Tirnan'Oge

by Amanda McIntyre

  Things were getting tense upstairs. The celestial powers that be expected better. Humanity’s romantic mojo seemed to deplete faster with each century. Humans focused less on love and laughter and more on doom and gloom. It’d gotten so bad that the heavens had to send out a legion of cupids—just to keep the romantics of the world inspired. He thought about his near-catastrophic last mission. Could he really fault himself for the late sixties?

  It was nothing short of tumultuous—war, riots, Woodstock. It was hard enough to find a daughter of Aphrodite in all the chaos. Not to mention the feminist movement he had to deal with. By the seventies, he was nearly at his wits’ end when nothing short of a miracle came out of a place called Detroit. A mortal by the name of Marvin Gaye released a song, “Let’s Get It On,” that set the earth ablaze with the mantra of “make love, not war.” It didn’t take him long after that to find his mate. Free love, no strings attached made it easy to convince her of her duty to karma, and for a long time the magic held tight. However, as is always the case with humanity, greed—the unabashed root of all evil—got in the way and tangled up the good vibes.

  A few minutes later, he looked up from setting the table as Candy walked in. She looked as fresh as a summer day in jeans and a button-up blouse—his personal favorite piece of mortal clothing. Whether unfastened slow or ripped open, sending buttons clattering everywhere, it was an exceptional rendering of mankind’s brilliant ingenuity.

  “Wow, this is nice. You outdid yourself—salad, strawberries, sweet tea? And are those cinnamon scones with clotted cream?” She dipped her finger in, tasted it, and sighed.

  Yep, he was ready to clear the table and throw her on it.

  Instead, he held her chair, breathing in the heady floral scent of her freshly shampooed hair. His fingers twitched, wanting to feel those silky, caramel-colored strands slide through his fingers.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  He hadn’t thought about it. He rarely ate much. However, if having a dining companion was what she wanted, then so be it. “Uh, okay.” He sat down adjacent to her. “Would you like me to feed you? There are some women who find that an aphrodisiac.”

  She paused midway of placing a strawberry in her mouth. He stared at her parted lips, ready to haul her over his shoulder and carry her to the first flat surface available.

  “Why don’t you try it?” She dipped the berry in cream and offered it up to him. Her gaze held his in challenge.

  “You’re going feed that to me?” He searched her eyes. How adorable. “Okay, I get it. You’re trying to seduce me.” He crooked his fingers for emphasis.

  She lifted a brow and leaned forward, giving him full view down her shirt. He swallowed as every thought fled his brain. Okay, maybe it’s working. He met her challenge and bit into the fruit, barely nipping her fingertip, wanting to lick the juice from her hand.

  She leaned back and proceeded to fill his plate, then hers, with salad greens. “Tell me about you. What else do you like to do?”

  The sudden shift in her demeanor threw off his game. Befuddled, he followed her lead and picked up his fork. “Do?” He pushed a cucumber around on his plate before deciding to try it. Not bad. Why hadn’t he been able to taste food before now?

  “You know. Take long walks on the beach, read, maybe distance jogging to stay in shape?”

  He chuckled. “Do I look like the athletic type?”

  She paused, fork mid-air. “Yeah, pretty much. You must spend every day in the gym, to look like that.” She pointed her fork at him.

  He grinned. What a great sense of humor. “Uh, no. Good genes, I suppose. I do, however, enjoy a good mountain climb now and again.”

  “Let me guess, free climbing?”

  “Is there any other way?” Suddenly hungry, he attacked his salad with renewed interest. This was oddly relaxing, once the initial awkwardness of setting aside fast and furious sex was achieved. He found himself interested to learn more about her, to find out what her childhood was like, what her dreams and goals were.

  After a long lunch, they stood together at the sink, washing and drying dishes, continuing their conversation—tackling everything from politics to best-selling books. Then she introduced him to a card game called “War.” They sat at the kitchen table and played it until the sunlight waned. He was ravenous. Yes, for sex, but his stomach oddly had been growling. He pushed from the table and busied himself with rummaging through the cabinets. Spotting a box of crackers, he stuffed two in his mouth, amazed that something so plain could taste so good. “What are you craving tonight, m’lady?” He leaned against the counter and watched her put away the cards.

  “You’re hungry…for food?” Candy chuckled. “What happened to saving romance?” Candy chuckled.

  He was as bewildered as she was. Why wasn’t seduction the first thing on his mind? He shrugged. “I guess I’m truly enjoying doing ordinary, human things with you.”

  “Uh-oh. Embracing the ordinary has gotten you out of the mood? That doesn’t speak well to the future of human romance, does it?” Her smile reached her eyes.

  Warmth reached into his comfy boxer briefs and he was grateful for the stretch of the fabric. He cleared his throat, stunned to find he was a little bit nervous. Nervous? “It’s been a nice day. I can’t remember the last time—if ever—that someone was interested…you know, in me.”

  She held his gaze, rounded the table, and curled her arms around his waist. “You’re quite an interesting fellow.”

  Damn if he didn’t feel his cheeks warm just a little. Weird. “So,” he said, drawing her closer, “does this mean you’re going to miss me tomorrow?” His intent to tease dissipated at the flash of sadness in her beautiful eyes. She rested her hands on his chest, her heat warming his flesh through his shirt. An odd tightness formed in his gut.

  “Do you have to leave right away?

  She slid her fingers beneath his shirt and slowly peeled his it over his head. The crackers fell to the floor. She pressed her lips against his bare flesh.

  He swallowed at his body’s intense reaction. “I’m not designed for the whole commitment thing. You understand, right?” Cupping her face, he searched her beautiful eyes, battling the whirl of confusion between his mission and wanting more time with her. This was crazy. It wasn’t what he was trained to do. Get in, get out—so to speak. Regenerate romance. Love is in the air and all that jazz.

  Her fingers curled into his hair, her mouth nuzzling the spot beneath his jaw.

  “You smell divine,” she murmured. “Like tangled sheets and cookies.”

  Cookies?

  “I just want to eat you up,” she whispered, nipping once at his ear.

  Her hands molded the denim covering his ass, and that was enough for him. “I’m guessing this means we’re done with the getting to know each other part?”

  She stepped back and held his gaze as she unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall from her shoulders. She wore nothing beneath. Her skin, sun-kissed and smooth, beckoned to him. She took his hand.

  “On the contrary, we’re just getting started.”

  She led him to the bedroom where a turntable surrounded by a shrine of scented candles awaited with Marvin’s album at the ready.

  He snapped his fingers, lighting the candles, as she turned the knob and placed the needle carefully on the vintage record.

  His heart seemed to beat in time to the sultry music. That was new and puzzling and he added it to his rapidly growing list. His body was on fire, needing to be close to her. Time stood still, unfolding before him in slow motion. He was entranced, captured by her desire to please him. For someone who’d forever been in the position of giving—not receiving—pleasure, the notion confused him.

  In a slow dance, what barriers remaining were swept away and he fell into those beautiful brown eyes. Driven by her sighs, his body moved with hers in delicious syncopation, filling him with delirious emotions so utterly foreign to his existence. She bowed her body to his touch, offer
ing herself freely, wrapping herself around him, holding tight, whispering words he’d spoken to many but had never fully understood until now. Fascinated by these strange feelings, he was keenly aware of his every sense—the petal softness of her skin against his lips, the musky scent of her sex, even the night sounds of the wood outside the cabin. Every nuance touched him, driving his need to please her. But the sweetest sound to bury itself deep inside him was her soft pleasured moan as they toppled over the edge into bliss together.

  Tucker rolled to his back, surprised by his exhaustion, both physical and mental. Yet, he felt more alive, more whole than he’d felt in centuries. Something wasn’t right. Gods don’t feel happy after sex, they just want more.

  “Three times during the full moon, right?” Candy snuggled in under his arm and rested her cheek on his chest. Her body caused him to react much faster than he’d bet she was prepared to deal with.

  “Are you hungry?” He brushed back the hair covering her face.

  She shifted and smiled at him. “Are you?” she asked, tracing her finger in concentric circles on his chest.

  He was far from it—at least, for food.

  The full moon sliced its icy fingers across the bed, illuminating her face. By the gods, he wanted to etch it into his memory, wanted to make love to her with or without the album. Just twice more, under Marvin’s sexual healing, and the world would once again tilt proper on its romantic axis. Singers would croon, writers would write, the world would once again be a place where dreamers dreamt. Humanity would have another chance. And then he’d return to his celestial home and wait, alone, until his next deployment, keeping vigil and reminding humans now and again of the power of love.

  “Later,” he answered. Tucker pulled her into his arms and unleashed a passion so raw it frightened him. He wanted to sear this moment into her mind, sickened by the thought that she might want to forget this—forget him. She met him with unbridled desire, his perfect match—soft against hard, gentle and reckless, demon and angel—driving, crashing into oblivion.

  Candy lay sprawled across him. “Oh my,” she said in a breathless voice. “Does it matter whether the album is playing while we’re, uh…?”

  Undeniably satisfied, Tucker crooked his arm under his head and stared at the ceiling. So, that’s what they mean by Hell, Yeah! Through his euphoric sex-filled brain, he realized she was right. The taste of her lingered on his lips and he smiled. “Yeah, technically for this to work correctly, we ought to have the song playing during sex.”

  She propped up on her arm and stared down at him. “So, what was that?”

  “Amazing?” And by the gods, it was!

  “Kind of like that night we met? A freebie?” she asked quietly.

  Ouch. He thought she’d rather enjoyed it. Tucker frowned. “What was it for you?”

  She eased off the bed, found his shirt, and slipped it over her head. It brushed the tops of her thighs. No goddess in the heavens ever looked as sexy.

  “Candy?” She had yet to answer his question and, for reasons he couldn’t explain, it bothered him. Tucker slid into his jeans and followed her into the kitchen. The refrigerator light shone on her face as she straightened and handed him a beer. He wasn’t sure what to do with it.

  “You drink it.”

  “Well, yes. I just didn’t realize I was thirsty.”

  She tapped her bottle to his and took a long pull on her drink. Her upturned face mesmerized him, how she seemed to guzzle the substandard ale of earth with such gusto. Shrugging, he followed suit, curious still why she hadn’t answered his question. He chuckled quietly. It was ludicrous, of course, to question his prowess in the bedroom. He tipped back the bottle and swallowed the rest of his beer, then licked his lips.

  “About what I asked earlier?” Maybe she didn’t want to answer. He tapped his finger to the bottle. How or if, he’d pleased her shouldn’t be of great concern.

  She looked at him and blinked as though she’d been off in another world and forgotten he was there. “It was more than I could ever imagine.”

  Her confession stopped him short and, unsure how to respond, he stumbled with a response. “I, uh, meant the part where I said I could delete your memory when we’re through.” He rubbed his hand over the dull ache that emerged in his chest.

  “Oh, that.” She turned away and faced the kitchen window over the sink. Outside, the moon carved through the trees, its brilliance casting long shadows on what snow remained. “Will you remember?” she asked with her back to him.

  A sharp twinge tweaked at his chest. What was going on? What was this strange melancholy pervading his thoughts, this bone-chilling dread that he might never see her, be with her again? He’d heard humans speak of such things—rumors, really. But, he was one of the elite, a celestial servant to Aphrodite, a warrior to the cause of sexual healing. Would he know love if it happened to him and, further, how was that even possible? Yet, he couldn’t lie— to himself, to anyone—even though he was riddled with confusion. “You want me to be honest?”

  She nodded, but didn’t look at him.

  “I don’t know why. I don’t understand it, but I never want to forget this, Candy,” he said. “Not one minute of this day, of this time with you—the lunch, washing dishes, playing cards, the laughter, dancing, even sharing human beer. I want to remember your face in the moonlight, your sighs…everything.”

  She turned, ran into his embrace, and hugged his neck hard. “Me, neither. If this is all we’ll ever have, then I want to remember every moment…always.”

  Tucker swung her up into his arms and carried her to bed, remembering, at least, to put the record on twice more during their heated night of passion. When the final dredges of night began to fade and the last note of the song had finished, they lay huddled close. For the first time in years, he slept.

  ***

  And in the cold light of day…

  Candy woke alone. She reached out and touched the pillow beside her, still curved from where he’d laid his head.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  Startled to discover she wasn’t alone, she pulled the sheets up and blinked through the sunlight steaming in the bedroom window. Was that Tucker holding a cup of coffee? Was she dreaming? He was dressed in his jeans and faded T-shirt. “You’re still here. I thought….” She wrapped the sheet around her and swung her feet to the floor.

  “Thought you could use this.” He handed her a steaming cup of coffee.

  She breathed deeply, her brain cells beginning to awaken and, with them, vivid memories of their lovemaking.

  The mattress gave as he sat down next to her. He stared out the window, seemingly preoccupied.

  “So, did everything go well? I mean, how will you know? Is there a memo that comes down from the heavens by carrier pigeon, or something?”

  He laughed quietly, and that alone lifted her heart.

  He pulled out a cell phone and held it up. “Text.”

  “Impressive. So, humanity is once again on track? We can expect a surge in romance novels, another movie by Nicholas Sparks, great works of art? It’s all good, right?”

  He stuffed the phone back in his pocket. “That depends.”

  She pressed together her brows. “I don’t understand. Basically, we followed the instructions—ad-libbing occasionally, I’ll admit—but eventually we got it done, right?”

  Without a word, he cupped her face and kissed her softly.

  Something had changed. “What’s going on?” She searched his eyes.

  He averted his gaze and released a sigh. “Let me tell you a story. I wasn’t born into this…this celestial being that I am. I gave myself to them—the gods—in the name of love, years ago. Centuries ago, to be exact.”

  “You have remarkable skin tone.” Candy smiled and sipped her coffee. How he came to be didn’t change the fact that they’d never have a future together. “Sorry, go ahead.”

  “I gave up my life for another. My one true love was dying. I wanted her
to live, so I asked the gods to take me instead. Apparently, they were so impressed with my sacrifice that they decided to offer me a full-time position. My job? To watch over humanity and, every so often, replenish the earth. Rekindle, as it were, the art of romance so that it’s kept alive. Provide inspiration for artists, writers, blah blah, yadda yadda.”

  Candy smiled. She wasn’t sure why he felt the need to share this with her, but it endeared him to her all the more. “Your one true love was a lucky woman.”

  “She lived to a ripe old age and bore fifteen children.”

  “You might have dodged a bullet there, just sayin’.” She offered a grin.

  He rose with a weary sigh and walked to the window. The sun shone around him, creating an aura-like quality. It seemed appropriate and, too, reminded her of their future—or rather, their lack of one. It’s best if you remember the good things.

  “Yes, I agree,” he answered, staring out the window.

  “I forgot you could do that.”

  He cleared his throat. “So, here’s the thing. After I submitted my report—”

  “When did you have time…?”

  “While you slept.” He paused, seemingly nervous to press on with what he had to say. “TPB—the powers that be—have offered a proposition,” he said, cautiously eyeing her.

  The corner of her mouth lifted in a wry grin. “The gods?”

  Tucker nodded with an audible sigh and pushed his hair back with both hands. “You’ll have to forgive me. Being nervous is not my forte.”

  “It’s adorable. Come on, Tucker, what did they offer?”

  “They want to know how you feel…about me.”

  She blinked, unable to hide how genuinely puzzled she felt. “They care about what I think?”

  “Care? No.” His gaze met hers and she was a goner. “I care about what you think. Their reasons are all business.”

  She waited in stupefied wonder as he knelt before her. “You’re serious?”

  “As an apocalypse.”

  “That’s serious.” True, her feelings for him had evolved into something far deeper than she’d planned, given the ordinary time they’d shared, the extraordinary moments in bed.