Divine and Dateless Read online

  Grim stomped through the doors, grumbling for me to hurry up, but then a white mist obscured my feet and filled up the elevator. I couldn’t see a damned (oops, darned) thing!

  “Are you coming or what?” Grim barked from somewhere behind the veil.

  “I would if I could see where I was going,” I snapped.

  His big arm reached out from behind the mist before I had a chance to swat him away. I gasped when he latched onto my hand. This guy had just dropped somebody in sludge. There was no telling what he planned on doing with me.

  And then there was that other problem. His warm fingers laced through mine sent a jolt of lust right down to the center of my secret sweet spot. Yes, that spot. You know, the “Oh, God! Oh, God! Yes, yes, yes!” spot?

  How was he able to do that with one touch? And, holy heck, wouldn’t he be amazing in the sack?

  He stepped next to me, so close we were only a breath apart. The haze didn’t seem so thick now, and I could make out his strong features. But the warmth he put off. Gah! This guy made me hotter than Hades.

  I cringed when he pulled my hand, expecting him to toss me over his shoulder like he had Stan. But he didn’t.

  “It’s okay, Ash,” he said in a tone that was shockingly borderline compassionate. “The fog will settle in a minute.”

  And so, like an idiot, I followed the guy. I had no idea how my feet were able to propel me forward, because it felt like I was walking on air. As the fog started to thin, I stole glimpses of a thick, muscular arm and wavy hair that curled around the base of a tanned neck in delicious, dark strands.

  The more I stared at all of his hard male parts, the more my lady parts turned to mush.

  Jesus! Oops, I mean Jeebus!

  I’d picked a bad time to get a major girl boner.

  What the hell is wrong with me? Wait a minute. I know what’s wrong. I need to get laid.

  I secretly hoped if Grim could enjoy happy hour on level thirteen, I was allowed to enjoy mind-blowing orgasms in Heaven. It was supposed to be paradise, right?

  Before I realized it, the fog had cleared and a lone figure emerged in the distance. I took a chance and looked down, and holy heck, I was walking on air!

  I stumbled and nearly fell face-first when I saw the blue sky below me. Luckily, Grim steadied me with a strong grip. My eyes bugged when a flock of birds flew underneath my feet.

  “There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Grim whispered as we approached a man clad in a hooded white robe.

  My throat had gone bone dry, or I would have answered him, so I squeezed his hand instead.

  A wave of clouds rolled in beneath me, once again shrouding my legs in mist, and I heaved a sigh of relief. Not that I thought walking through clouds was any safer, but at least I couldn’t see the drop in case God realized he’d made a mistake and tossed me out of Heaven.

  “Hey, Pete.” Grim waved at the figure.

  Pete? As in Saint Peter?

  Pete pushed back his hood revealing a middle-aged man with vibrant hazel eyes and a broad smile.

  “Con! So nice to see you again, old friend. How long has it been?” He stepped out from behind a clear podium.

  Grim, or Con, released me and shook Pete’s hand. “Nearly a year since I’ve delivered someone to The Top.”

  I flushed when both sets of eyes turned on me. That long since Grim had delivered someone to Heaven? He’d told me there were other Grims, but come on, I knew at least two dozen people who were more worthy of eternal salvation than me. Wasn’t it only last weekend that Tammy, Kelly, Sara, and I had been slurping tequila shots off of some college guy’s abs?

  Pete stepped back behind the podium and tapped on a clear screen in front of him.

  “Let me see who you’ve got here. Ashley MacLeod,” Pete said in a cheery voice as my name appeared backwards on the screen.

  I was shocked to see several pictures pop up, too, and most of them were of me at the retirement home. Geez. If this was all they had of me, no wonder I’d gotten into Heaven.

  But then my gaze caught an image that made my knees weaken. I was only twelve-years-old in that picture. I was as skinny as a twig, all arms and legs and a mouthful of braces. I hadn’t been anywhere near as popular as my outgoing older sister, and that hadn’t bothered me one bit, because I’d had the love of my one and only true friend, my black Lab, Jack. And in that picture I was cradling his head in my arms, sobbing into his fur as kids gathered around me. Jack had been racing across the street to meet me at the bus stop, just like he did every day after school, but this time he’d been struck by a speeding pickup truck. The guy hadn’t even stopped to check on my dog who was thrown into the grass. He’d just kept right on driving.

  Haunted by the memory of Jack’s silky soft fur and big brown eyes, a few teardrops slipped down my cheeks. I’d give anything to have him back. Anything. My hand shook as I reached out to touch his picture. But then new pictures popped up, images of my dead grandmother and uncle.

  “No wonder.” Pete was beaming as he tapped the photos, enlarging one family photo in particular, the last one we’d taken together before my uncle contracted pneumonia. “Your family is known for their charity work. Your uncle and grandma shot to the top, too.”

  I wiped the tears off my face. “Uncle Mikey is here?”

  “Of course.” He nodded.

  Though I’d been a child when Uncle Mikey died, I remembered my mom cried for ages when some minister said her little brother had gone to Hell. I always knew Uncle Mikey was too good a person to have suffered an eternity of damnation, especially considering all the work he did for AIDS charities when he was also suffering from the disease.

  “I’ve got it from here, Con.” Pete tapped the screen again, and it went blank. “You’ll have to visit when you’re not on duty.” He made a face while shaking his head. “Sadly, my job gets more lonely each year.”

  “All right, then,” Grim mumbled.

  I turned to him. “You’re leaving me?” Panic had slipped into my voice purely by accident. I didn’t know why I was expecting Grim to stick around. Besides, I should have been happy to see him go. The guy’s permanent scowl made Grumpy Cat look as perky as a princess.

  “My shift is over.” He shrugged, averting his gaze. “I’m sure your family is waiting on the other side.”

  And just like that, a balloon fizzled in my chest, or maybe that was the sound of my imploding heart. Grim didn’t give a damn about me. That kiss had probably meant nothing to him.

  “Oh, okay. Thanks.”

  “For what? Doing my job?”

  Despite the indifference in his tone, I thought I saw a flash of longing in his eyes. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on my part.

  I wanted to say, “For making me feel alive again, even though I’m dead.” But I didn’t. I’d given this man too much of my soul tonight. I wanted to part ways with some of my dignity, so idiot that I was, I said the first stupid thing that came to mind. “For not throwing me in green sludge.”

  I didn’t know why I said it, other than that image of Stan’s putrid mole spewed all over my mind like the memory from my seventh birthday when my mom had asked me to blow out the candles, and I’d barfed on the cake instead.

  This time Grim’s eyes did flash, but not with longing. His mouth tightened and his shoulders stiffened as if I’d just slapped him. “I’ve been accused of a lot of things, Ashley MacLeod, but I’d never hurt a lady.”

  I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to apologize or tell him to kiss my ass, but he turned and disappeared into the fog without another glance.

  Never hurt a lady, huh? So why does my heart feel like it’s about to split in two?

  “So what now?” I asked Pete as he went back to his platform and tapped his screen.

  “Hang on,” he answered. "I'm summoning your valet."

  “My valet?"

  “Yes, your valet,” came a surprisingly deep and familiar foreign accent.

  I yelped as I spun around.
Standing before me was over six muscular feet of tall, blond, and drop-dead gorgeous.

  Oh-my-freaking-God! The Swede!

  My hand flew to my mouth. “It's you!”

  He smiled and bowed. “I am whoever you wish me to be.”

  Pete softly chuckled as he came to stand beside me. “Your valet takes on the form that is desirable to you. If you were a child, your valet would most likely resemble your mother.”

  “Uh, huh.” I absently nodded. I had to force myself to shut my mouth before I drooled all over the clouds swirling at my feet.

  Now I know where rain comes from. Heaven must have an abundance of Swedes.

  “Your valet will be your personal servant during your eternal stay in Heaven,” Pete said as he handed the Swede a manila envelope with my name on it. “He will serve your every need.”

  "My every need?"

  "Yes, Ashley MacLeod, your every need." Pete winked.

  Was I reading the guardian of Heaven's gate correctly? Had he just given me the green light to have mind-blowing sex in the holiest of all places?

  Though I didn't remember all the Ten Commandments, I was fairly certain I was breaking at least half of them with the wicked thoughts forming in my mind. My own personal servant... my every need... Holy freaking moly!

  I chewed my lower lip while casting a furtive glance at my Nordic stud. Hot damn! That molten look in his dark blue eyes almost made my knees buckle.

  Coming within inches of my personal space, the warmth radiating off his body turned my insides to mush. When I inhaled his rich scent, alarm bells should have been ringing in my head, but I was too horny to do anything other than melt into my shoes. The Swede didn't smell like I remembered. His aftershave had been a mixture of sweet and spice. This broad-shouldered man hogging my ozone smelled too much like Grim, all heat and spice, and not a hint of sweetness.

  "Are you ready to join me in the afterlife," he whispered into my ear.

  A jolt shot down my neck, zinged down my spine, and arced like a wayward bolt of lightning, straight to that point of pleasure that made me want to spread my legs right there at the Pearly Gates.

  When he laced his fingers through mine, skimming my palm with the pad of his thumb, the last thing I cared about was his scent. My G-spot was already priming for an eternity of OH, GOD, OH, GOD, and YES, YES, YESSSS!!!

  I numbly followed the Swede as Pete ushered us toward the Pearly Gates. Yes, those Pearly Gates. Each bar was as luminescent as I’d envisioned, stretching so far above my head, I couldn’t fathom where they ended. Pete opened the gate with a key shaped like the one Grim had used to power the elevator, only Pete’s was bigger and brighter. Both huge doors swung open without so much as a squeak.

  I tensed up, waiting for a chorus of singing angels or dramatic orchestra music, relieved when neither happened. A lone shadow stepped from behind a mist of swirling clouds.

  When the Swede, er… my valet, told me to go inside, I was almost afraid to for fear intruder alarm bells would go off and I’d be zapped by God’s invisible electric fence.

  I closed my eyes when the Swede grabbed my hand, leading me through the opening.

  "There’s my beautiful grand-daughter."

  My eyes shot open. A woman who sounded and looked like a much younger version of my grandmother stepped out of the fog and held out her arms.

  I stood there with my mouth hanging open while the raven-haired beauty pulled me into a warm embrace. Mmm. She smelled like fresh-picked peaches and warm cinnamon, just like I remembered, but she sure didn't look like my grandma. This bombshell with the thick lashes and bright red lips could have been a 1940s pinup model

  "Grandma Clara?" I asked as she pulled back, holding me at arm's length. "You look different."

  "You didn’t think I’d make it all the way to the Penthouse and keep my old body, did you?" she said with a throaty laugh.

  "Wow." I waved a hand at her. "So this is the younger you?"

  "No, Ash." She winked as she protruded her plump double Ds. "This is the divine me."

  I nodded at her shapely legs, outlined by painted-on black tights. “I wouldn’t mind dropping about fifteen pounds.”

  She stepped back and pointed at me. “Look at yourself, Ash.”

  I glanced down and could not believe what I saw. I was wearing my little black dress. No, not the stretchy skirt I’d had to practically bathe in oil to pull over my hips earlier tonight, but the other black dress. The one I hadn’t worn since junior year in college, the one that was dangerously too short and daringly too sheer. And what was even more amazing was my butt and thighs fit into that skimpy piece of fabric without busting the seams.

  “Oh my gosh!” I twirled around as I stared down at my lean, long legs. “My thighs don’t rub together.” I squealed when I ran my fingers through my smooth hair. No more electrified mop!

  “Are you ready to go to your welcome home party? Your Uncle Mikey is there.”

  “I can’t wait!” I practically jumped out of my shoes.

  Grandma flashed a radiant smile as she turned up her chin. “To the suite,” she called and then snapped her fingers.

  “Surprise!”

  A chorus of people erupted into clapping and cheers. We were no longer at the Pearly Gates but had somehow been magically transported to the most lush apartment I’d ever seen, with big bay windows overlooking a moonlit sky and a sunken living room with recessed lighting, marble floors, and plush furniture. A flirty Katy Perry song was playing in the background. Whoever owned this place had good taste.

  I was so in awe of my change in environment, I nearly tripped over my own feet as I stumbled backward. Luckily, a strong set of arms anchored me by the waist before I landed flat on my ass.

  “Watch yourself,” someone male rumbled in my ear.

  I gasped as I tilted my head back and glanced at him. He still looked like the Swede, but hot damn, his throaty southern baritone sounded just like Grim’s.

  What the heck was going on?

  Before I could think to question him, I was captured in another tight hug. I wrapped my arms around the man holding me, breathing in the familiar lemony scent of his hair gel.

  Uncle Mikey!

  “Welcome home, pumpkin,” he sniffled against my shoulder as he rocked me. “I’m happy to see my baby niece, but so sad your life was cut short.” He wiped moisture from his eyes with a hankie.

  Odd, but I didn’t think there were supposed to be any tears in Heaven.

  Uncle Mikey looked like I remembered him: dark, slicked back hair, clean, crisp designer suit, and large, luminous brown eyes that were so beautiful they were heart-breaking.

  “It’s okay, Uncle.” I shrugged, turning my gaze to the swirling mist at my feet. I guess this mist thing was something I was going to have to get used to. “That life was getting me nowhere, anyway.”

  “No pouting in Heaven. Chin up, girl.” Uncle Mikey flashed his signature dazzling smile as he lifted my chin in his gentle grip.

  I couldn’t help but smile back. “You used to tell me that all the time.”

  I vaguely remembered sitting on top of my uncle’s hospital bed, my legs dangling over the railing. I’d been crying because I didn’t like all the tubes attached to his arms or the hollow look in his eyes. He’d managed enough strength to wipe away my tears and tell me to keep my chin up. We’d buried him a few days later, and I’d cried for many days until my mom brought home a cuddly, black Lab puppy. Mom had told me Uncle Mikey would be displeased if he looked down from Heaven and saw me so sad, so I’d stopped crying that day and poured all of my emotions into my dog, Jack.

  “You had just started grade school when I’d died,” Mikey said as he cupped my cheek. “You look so much like my sweet sister.”

  I searched his gaze as another memory of Uncle Mikey made my heart settle like a lead brick: his cold and ashen body lying all too still. My mom was draped over the casket, sobbing profusely as the pallbearers tried to take him away.

  I
could only imagine how she’d react when she discovered I’d died.

  “Sweetheart,” he said, stroking my face.

  I tried to answer him, but when I opened my mouth to form a response, a big, blubbering sob came out instead. He pulled me to him, and I buried my face in his crisp, clean suit and cried like a baby.

  “There, there. It will be okay.” He patted my back. “This girl needs some cheesecake.”

  “I think we all do,” Grandma said behind me. “Cheesecake takes all worries away.”

  “Cheesecake?”

  I lifted my head and slowly turned around, relieved when my uncle held onto my hand. I was so glad to have my family here with me in Heaven. Paradise or not, I didn’t know how I could have gotten through this dying stuff without them.

  There were several other people lounging around a granite countertop in the open kitchen, laughing as they took bites of cheesecake and sipped champagne. When I saw my valet piling slices of the decadent dessert on a plate, my hand instinctively flew to my gut. I seriously doubted there was enough toilet paper in all of Heaven to aid me after I gorged on gluten, but it sure was tempting.

  Uncle Mikey released my hand as a tall, dark, and buff Latin man handed him a big piece of cheesecake with a wink.

  “Thank you, Francisco,” Mikey cooed as he dug into his pie. “I’ll summon you later when I need you.”

  Francisco shot my uncle a sideways smile before poof, he was gone. I blinked hard, staring at the empty space where the tall hunk of tanned manflesh had been standing.

  “Where did he go?” I asked my uncle, but then the Swede’s large body was casting a shadow over me.

  “Here you are.” He held out three of the most sinful looking desserts I’d ever seen. “Triple chocolate chunk, dark chocolate raspberry, and cookies and cream.”

  I sighed and shook my head, even as my mouth watered and my tummy rumbled. “They all look heavenly, but I have a sensitive stomach.”

  “Ash.” Grandma came up beside me and settled a hand on my shoulder. “There are no sensitive stomachs in Heaven.” She took a big bite of vanilla cheesecake topped with sugared peaches, her eyes practically rolling into the back of her skull as she groaned.