CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Acan could not believe how many men had shown up for this evening’s event. Dammit, Jill! There were perhaps five percent women and ninety-five percent men. Gay men. Very nice, but very gay.
“I’m sorry,” Jill had said right before they’d opened the doors. “How was I supposed to know I shouldn’t put rainbows and an animal with a big phallic symbol on its head all over the ads?”
“Did you at least say the word wife in these ads?”
“I said partner because I didn’t want to frighten off any women who might not be ready for marriage but might be okay with a committed relationship.” Jill had begun to cry, which resulted in his feeling sorry for her and offering another raise.
With that, Jill picked herself up and continued the task of coordinating the evening—organizing the staff, greeting guests, and discreetly handing out VIP passes to the second floor, where Acan would get a chance to serve the selected women a cocktail. He would use his special gift to determine if a potential mate was here tonight. He knew that any woman worth her salt would order her perfect cocktail for the occasion. So few actually did. They ordered something safe, something familiar, or they ordered “their drink,” which was code for “I don’t know how to color outside the lines. Ever.” Any potential mate of his would order her ideal beverage for this very particular occasion, demonstrating a respect for the sacred, time-honored tradition of getting intoxicated. That will be my sign.
As the staff below got the evening going, and Jill handed out passes to women who might fit his criteria—love to party, hot, hot, love to party—the women began filing upstairs one by one, each female a bigger disappointment than the last.
“I’ll have a light beer,” said a perky blonde. “Oh. Nice abs. Work out a lot?”
“No. Here’s your ‘beer.’ Now you may leave.” He waved the woman—an unnaturally skinny thing, who looked like she survived exclusively on kale chips—to the exit.
She huffed and marched toward the stairway leading back down to the main floor.
Light beer, he scoffed. It is an insult to beer. They should call it that which is left over when beer takes a hot piss on an effervescent snowman and crawls into a can to die.
“Next!” he yelled.
The following women weren’t much better. Miss Vodka Tonic ordered a wine spritzer. Wrong! Wine Spritzer lady ordered a dirty martini. Wrong! Kalua and Cream gal asked for champagne. Sacrilege! What the hell is the matter with you, woman! It made him sick, seeing all of this incorrect drink pairing.
After the thirty-fifth woman, Acan felt completely discouraged. Margarita was right. This isn’t going to work. It can’t. The Universe wasn’t going to help him out and have the perfect woman magically walk into his club. She’d already given him a mate. But sadly, Margarita didn’t want to give her heart to him and nothing in this world could force her. Just like he couldn’t force himself to look at any of these women no matter how beautiful. What the hell am I going to do? I’m screwed.
Suddenly, his chest began to tighten and his legs turned ice-cold. He felt like someone had pulled the stopper from his awesome bathtub filled with awesome Acan light.
Fuck. Not now. No, no, no. He was flipping again. But this time he felt the powerful change coming on, sweeping through him like fire ants devouring everything in their path. He wouldn’t come back after this. He would stay evil.
Fuck! Dammit. No! He planted his hands on the bar, bowing his back. A frigid fire raged through his head, and his heart collapsed in on itself. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to change. More importantly he didn’t want to hurt anyone.
He reached to his side, under the counter, for the large chef’s knife he kept for slicing limes. He had to take himself out. A temporary solution, but what if he hurt the people here tonight? His happy unicorn-loving gays, the handful of women looking for love—or free drinks—same thing—and his staff.
He gripped the knife’s handle, trying to think. If he killed himself, he might return to this realm, but what if he did not? What if he stayed in the realm of the gods, where his reach into this world wasn’t limited by his human shell?
Acan gritted his teeth, the icy malevolent energy burrowing through him. He couldn’t win. Either way, he would hurt millions. Fuck you, Universe, he grunted in his head. I never wanted to be a god. I never asked for this role. But I’ve tried my best, and this is the thanks I get? You can just bite me.
“Hi,” said a perky little voice. “Can I have a Sugar Free Red Bull with Cherry Sprite and a twist of lime?”
Acan looked up at the young blonde wearing too much makeup. He opened his mouth to tell her to run, but when his eyes met hers—Green. So, so green—he noticed something amazing.
“That’s…that’s…your perfect drink.” He couldn’t believe it.
“Really?” She shrugged. “I’ve never tried it before. Just sounded good, yanno?”
He gazed in wonderment at her full lips, oval face, golden hair, and emerald green eyes, feeling an instant connection. Her energy washed over him from across the counter like a brilliant light filling a dark room, sending the creatures of the night scurrying for cover. The ice in his veins began to melt. His heart swelled. His light began pulsing, pushing back the evil.
He blinked at the young woman. “Do-do I know you?” he said in a scratchy voice.
“Jessica!” a woman bellowed across the room from the direction of the bouncer at the doorway.
Acan’s eyes focused on the tomato red face of…“Margarita?”
“You!” She pointed at him, pushing past the bouncer. “You get away from my daughter.”
Her daughter? He looked at the face underneath the five pounds of makeup. She was indeed Jessica, Margarita’s sixteen-year-old daughter.
He stepped back from the bar, thoroughly confused.
“Mom, what are you doing here?” Jessica barked.
“What am I doing here? What am I doing here? If you were smaller, I would spank the crap out of you. Okay, I’d also have to believe in spanking, but if I did and you were twenty pounds lighter, I would give you a paddle to remember.”
Acan couldn’t help but smile. He was so happy to see Margarita.
“You think this is funny, Mr. God of Wine? I will send your nut sack flying into the next galaxy if you ever—and I mean ever!—look at my daughter like that again.”
“Mom! You’re totally embarrassing me,” Jessica whined.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet. Where the hell is Ophelia?” Margarita demanded.
Jessica shrugged. “I dunno. Dancing downstairs somewhere.”
“You go find her and meet me at the front door while I have words with Mr. Party Pants here.”
Jessica scurried off, and Margarita turned the full force of her rage toward him. “How could you?”
He held up his hands. “I couldn’t. I didn’t.” Nevertheless, he couldn’t deny that seeing Jessica had saved him.
“I saw the way you were looking at her, Acan. Don’t fucking fuck with me.”
Wow, such language. Very hot. “I was only looking at her like that because I felt something powerful between us.”
Margarita’s green eyes flared. “She’s sixteen!”
“No. It’s not like that. I-I feel like she’s special. I feel drawn to her.”
“Wow. Just wow. You are the biggest prick I’ve ever—”
“I mean.” He shut his eyes. “I mean, I believe that whatever connection I have with you connects to her, too. In a purely platonic sense. But, Margarita, you are the one. There can’t be another. I see that now.”
“No. No! You stay away from us. I will not have our lives taken by some evil, murdering monster.”
“Monster?” Had she seen him flip last night?
“Yes, a monst—never mind!” She turned and headed for the stairs.
He ran around the bar and stopped her before she got there. “Wait. Why did you run out last night?”
“It doesn’t matter. Because I’m done. Enjoy your party.”
“Margarita, this is important,” he growled. “Because there will not be another for me, not ever, and everything is on the line.”
“I told you I’m done. Now let me leave,” she growled.
“I know you feel it too, Margarita. I know you feel the strong connection, and it’s only becoming stronger. Seeing Jessica just now made me realize that.”
“I can’t…do this. Not with you.” Her eyes filled with tears.
“Why?”
“I got a warning last night, Acan. And I don’t know if it was God looking out for me or fate or just dumb luck, but I know that I didn’t leave behind my entire Amish family, fight every day for a better life for my daughter, and bust my butt to make this world a healthier place only to have my life snuffed out in an instant by you.”
“By me? I would never—wait. You’re Amish?” And why did he feel like they’d already spoken about this?
She shot him a look.
“Sorry, it is simply that you are so modern—entrepreneur, single mom, and that body? So hot.”
She continued glaring.
“Not the time?” he said sheepishly. “All right. Tell me about the warning.”
“Some guy stopped me on the way back from the bathroom last night and handed me a note.”
“What guy?”
“I can’t remember his name—he was tall like you. Same color eyes. He handed me a note signed by your sister that said I died—or would die—or something like that if I didn’t stay away from you. It told me to run like hell and not to question or let your weird sister touch me. I didn’t understand.”
Forgetty had been trying to wipe Margarita’s memory? Without his approval?
Acan’s mind did several loop-ti-loops. “The man who gave you the note, his name wouldn’t happen to be Máax, would it?”
“Yes. That was the guy.”
“Where’s the note?” he asked.
“I shoved it at your sister—the DJ.”
This had to be why Forgetty was so upset this morning. Perhaps she’d read the note and felt leaving town would avoid a repeat of whatever happened? Sadly, there wasn’t enough information to know for sure.
“I believe,” he said, “that something went wrong last night. Very, very wrong.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Máax is my brother, the God of Time Travel, which he’s technically not permitted to do without a majority vote by the gods and only for matters of extreme apocalyptic-scale emergencies, which means he risked everything to come find you.”
Margarita’s face contorted. “I’m sorry, but did you say time travel?”
“Well, he cannot travel through time on his own. He must have the aid of a black jade tablet created by the Maaskab, an ancient sect of very violent bloodthirsty Mayan priests. But yes, time travel.”
“Mayan-priest-jade-tablet-whats?”
“Never mind. It’s complicated.” His mind raced. He’d flipped last night. Perhaps he had hurt Margarita during that episode and Forgetty had tried, but failed, to intervene? Yes, that is the only explanation. The only one. Otherwise, why would his brother risk severe punishment to help avoid Margarita’s death? Acan would call his brother and ask, but Máax would not know anything because whatever events sparked his journey last evening had been avoided—Gods, I hope! In any case, the version of Máax who would know the details no longer existed. It had all been erased at great risk to his brother.
All this led Acan to one conclusion: “That’s it, woman. We’re done playing games.” He grabbed Margarita’s hand and started dragging her toward the bar.
“Hey, what are you doing?” she protested.
“I’m ending this,” he growled.
“Ending what?”
“I refuse to put your life in danger simply because you think we won’t work out.”
She jerked her hand back. “You’re dangerous.”
“Not if you accept me.”
“You’re a bad example for my daughter and a complete pig when you’re in party mode.” She took back her hand, stopping in her tracks.
He grabbed her by the shoulders, refusing to let her leave. “These past few days I’ve proven that I can have just as much fun hosting the party as being the party. That said, yes, we will need to get wild with drink from time to time, but I am certain I will behave much better with you at my side. We can also agree in advance which holidays will be our wild days.”
“I can’t do this. It’s too crazy.” She stepped back, freeing herself.
He stepped toward her. He had to make her listen. He had to make her see the truth. “What’s crazy, my dear woman, is the pathetic life I’ve been living. I want a life that isn’t simply about waking up naked in a taco truck with a pile of hungover women on top of me, or a life of inspiring humans with my ability to consume five kegs of beer in one night.” He took her hand. “I want a life that is not lived at the bottom of a bottle. I want to wear pants so you are the only one who sees my enormous shaft—because it really is enormous. And you, Margarita, are the only cocktail I need.”
She blinked at him, confused. She still wasn’t convinced. But that was because she didn’t fully understand he was out of time and that everything happened for a reason.
“Let me make you a drink, Margarita. One drink.”
“You think giving me alcohol will make me change my mind? That’s ridiculous.”
He raised a brow. “I am the God of Wine and Intoxication. If there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that sometimes we need to let our guard down in order to see the truth. Or to dance naked on a tabletop, but that is neither here nor there. Let me make you a damned drink, woman!”
She huffed. “Okay. Fine. Make me the stupid special drink.”
Finally. With a room full of women watching them both, he walked around to the other side of the bar and stood in front of her. He stared into her beautiful green eyes and focused his mind, searching for what would be the ideal beverage at this exact moment in her life. Because in this moment, she needed to be convinced that they were meant to be.
“Got it!”
Margarita watched Acan go to work behind the bar, grabbing different bottles, pouring them into little glasses, measuring every drop going into his concoction. He looked like a mad scientist.
Meanwhile, she couldn’t deny that his words had reached through to her. They definitely had. But last night had terrified her. Would he ever understand how it felt to be a mother and want nothing more than to love and protect your child? Especially when you were all she had?
His world seemed dangerous, unpredictable, and very unhealthy. And how could he, this deity, be a good father or husband?
On the other hand, if she accepted him, he wouldn’t be a danger to anyone and that included Jessica and herself. So if last night was a disaster avoided, was tonight their second chance?
As Margarita tried to wrap her mind around all of the pieces, she watched Acan carefully pour the ingredients into an extra-tall glass, creating layer upon layer of different colors—reds, greens, purples, oranges and yellows. The crowd around them of mostly women oohed and ahed with each additional layer as if watching someone build a towering house of cards that could crumble at any moment.
“I hope you’re not expecting me to drink all that,” Margarita said. There had to be a half gallon of alcohol in that thing.
Acan grinned but kept his eyes and steady hands focused on his work.
“Mom? We were waiting downstairs, but some weird redheaded woman wearing a clown suit with a strap-on said we should come back up here.” Jessica and her friend stood there looking at her.
“Oh, sorry. I just…” Margarita’s words faded as Acan struck a match.
“Mom?” Jessica gasped.
“Christ.” Margarita stepped back, pushing Jess behind her. “You’re going to blow us all up!”
Holding the lit match, Acan stared into her eyes. “Not tonight.” He dropped the match into the glass and a giant ball of rainbow-colored flames burst from the top.
“Ooooh. Aaaahh,” said the crowd.
The flames began taking shape.
“Is that…a unicorn?” Margarita asked.
“Yes,” Acan said triumphantly.
“And that’s my special drink?”
“Be patient. The best part is coming.” He held out his hands to silence the crowd.
The unicorn figure died with a puff. Leaving behind an empty glass.
How strange. My perfect cocktail drinks itself?
Acan scooted the glass toward her. “Look inside.”
She stepped forward and carefully leaned over the bar to look inside. Charred to the bottom of the glass were the words “I love you.”
She looked up at him, trying to process.
“Margarita, I woke up this morning, having no memory of last night past the point of you leaving. Yet despite my enormous disappointment, I realized that the only thing I could think of today was finding a mate so that I would not turn into a horrible, decapitating monster and end up hurting you. But now I know that you are the one I want, you are the one I was meant to love. And there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you, including spending my eternity with another woman who wouldn’t make me happy. Which I now realize is ridiculous because if she didn’t make me happy, then I would still turn into a horrible evil god. So yeah, that makes no sense. But I think we do, Margarita. I look at you and your child and I know it is time to move on with my life and be a man. Who wears pants.”
Tears trickled from Margarita’s eyes. If she said yes to him, it would mean taking a huge leap of faith. Not only for her, but for her daughter, too.
“Mom?”
Margarita looked at Jessica, then at Acan and then back at Jessica.
“One second,” she said to Acan and pulled her daughter aside. “Jessica, see that really tall man right there?”
“Yeah?”
“He wants to be a part of our lives. Permanently. How do you feel about that?”
“I just want to see you happy, Mom. That’s why I came here tonight.”
Margarita crinkled her brows in question.
“The ad on Facebook said some successful businessman who liked to party was looking for someone special to share his life with. I recognized him from our apartment last night and thought I should tell him to pick you. You need a guy you can have fun with, Mom. All you do is work and worry. And the last thing you need is another person to take care of. He has his own money, so that wouldn’t be a problem.”
“So you think I should be with him?” It surprised Margarita that Jessica wanted this to happen and wasn’t concerned about sharing attention.
“I mean, yeah, he’s way younger than you, but he’s pretty cute and seems really into you.”
“Wait. You think he’s younger than me?” Margarita asked.
“He’s like twenty-five or something, right?”
Margarita had to tell Jessica everything. No more secrets. “Try seventy thousand. That’s the thing, Jessica. He’s a god. An actual, real live deity, and he’s kind of crazy. But I think he could be good for us, and I think he needs us, too.”
Jessica blinked. “Sorry, but did you just say god?”
“Of wine and decapitation.”
“Are you being serious right now?” Jessica asked.
“Completely.”
“Ohmygod. That’s so cool,” Jessica squealed.
“You will absolutely change your mind about that when you see him in party mode. It’s pretty horrible.”
Jessica lifted a brow.
“He forgets to wear pants, swears like a sailor, and drinks obscene amounts of alcohol,” Margarita explained. “But I think we should give him a chance. Honestly, I don’t see another choice at this point.”
“So you love him?” Jessica asked.
Margarita had to give that question some thought. She became a reckless, horny mess in his presence. He infuriated her with his cockiness, but his devotion to others fascinated her. She especially loved how people became instantly happy when he walked into a room. And last night, before that scary crap happened with Máax, had been one of the funnest nights she’d had in a long time. However, and more importantly, she’d never met a man that made her feel like this. Adored, special, and the most important thing in his life. Her heart thrummed with happiness in his presence and told her one thing: We are meant to be together. This was fate, and she couldn’t turn her back on it any more than she could stop wanting him.
Margarita rubbed her brow. “I’m not sure the word love could ever come close to describing how I feel about him. There just aren’t any words.”
“I’ll take that,” said Acan from behind her.
She turned and looked up at him. “You were listening?”
“I may be a deity, but I’m still a man. We don’t like being held in suspense for very long. Especially after one has prepared the legendary Randy Unicorn flagship drink and has proposed.”
“You proposed?” Margarita asked.
“Yes. Right now,” he said.
“When?” she asked.
“Now. I’m doing it now.” He looked at Jessica. “As long as your daughter will accept me.”
Jessica kind of nodded, but appeared to be too awestruck to speak.
Acan grinned at Jessica. “Good. Because in that case, you’re grounded, young lady. You should never sneak into bars and you should always tell your mother where you’re going. This city is not safe for children to be running around at night.”
Jessica’s jaw dropped. “I think I just changed my mind.”
“And I think I just made up mine. Yes!” Margarita popped up on her tiptoes, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him on the lips.
Acan beamed. “I’m going to assign a few of our security guards to her,” he whispered. “She’s a sneaky one. I can see it in her eyes.”
“And I can see we are going to be very happy together,” said Margarita, instantly feeling her heart blossom with a profound sense of joy. Okay, and a lot of passion. She seriously ached for him right now.
“I am already happy, which is why you must go,” he said.
She gave him a quizzical look.
“It’s not appropriate for your child to see so much joy.” He winked and glanced down toward his pants.
“Oh. That kind of happy.” She looked into his hypnotic turquoise eyes. She’d never done something as crazy as this, agreeing to be with a man—god—she hardly knew, but her faith had always carried her through. “I really want you right now.”
“Yep.” He pulled her arms off his neck and twirled her around. “Time for you to go.” He gave her a little smack on the ass. “I’ll see you tomorrow so we can discuss the terms of our living arrangement and the sharing of powers.”
“Sharing of powers?”
“I will explain tomorrow.” Wincing, he waved her off, angling the front of his body away from Jessica. His “joy” had to be uncomfortable and she wanted nothing more than to help him with it; however, now was not the time.
Her body shaking with hormones and adrenaline, but in a good way, Margarita took one final look at her beautiful man and left the club.
“Mom? Are you really going to let that man ground me?” Jessica asked as they slid into the car.
“Nope. I’m going to ground you.” She looked at her daughter. “And I love you, Jessica. More than anything and that will never change.”
“I love you, too.”
Margarita started the car, eager to get Ophelia and themselves home. “Man, I so need a glass of wine.” Her eyes went wide. Oh no. She totally had the urge to party. “This is going to be interesting.”