I open the door and all of my intelligent thoughts fall right off the shelf.
The man on the other side is tall, broad shouldered, strong jawed, in a suit of blackest black. Dark blond hair falls in waves that make me think of ivy tendrils. He’s the god of spring, powerful but sweet, burying things to make them come alive. The god of spring carries earth and rain on his skin wherever he goes. His brown eyes are topaz—a glass of root beer held up to the light, widening as he slackens against the door frame like he’s just been wounded.
“Oh...” His gaze rakes me. His eyes go wider still, and he rubs his chin.“Wow.”
I resist a million electrical impulses: to look away, bite my lip, cross my ankles, fiddle with my purse, fidget with my hair. To say apologetically,The dress doesn’t look like the one I ordered, or minimize myself with a grimace and aMy hair’s misbehaving. When he looks at me that way, I feel like a goddess.
I feel...
“Yes,” I agree, drawing myself up strong and tall. “You are a lucky boy tonight, Mr. Koehler.”
He nods, not a whisper of humor in it. “I am.”
In heels, I don’t have to jump to kiss him, but I do have to yank his lapel to get him to dip his head. One hand slides up his smooth cheek, and I leave a kiss on the other. When I pull away, his eyesfollow me in such an intimate way that I get tingles all down my spine. “You look incredible, as always. Where are we going?”
Wesley inhales a bracing breath. Puts on a practiced smile that quivers just the slightest bit, trying very hard to cover up his nerves. His hands are clenched at his sides. “I’m taking you to heaven.”
I must be hearing things. “WesleyKoehler. Is that a pickup line?”
He holds out a stick of chewing gum. “You might need this.”
I frown, but he doesn’t move until I accept it. “Is this a commentary on my breath?” I brushed my teethtwicebefore this. And flossed. And swished mouthwash until my eyes watered.
“You’ll see.” He swallows, smile widening as I side-eye him irritably, popping the gum in my mouth. Then he takes my hand and leads me toward the front door. Just as I reach for the knob, however, he loops an arm around my waist to haul me close to him and turns in a different direction.
“What are you—”
He shakes his head, striding down the hall with me in bewildered tow.
This half of the house is dark. I try again: “What are we—”
“Ah-ah-ah,” he admonishes me, clucking his tongue. Then he abruptly spins so that he’s walking backward in front of me, face-to-face. He takes my hands in his, turning again down a different corridor. In my peripheral vision, I see his brilliant smile transform his whole body, but I can’t look directly at him because I’ve been swept away into another world.
There are clouds in the corridor.
A whole night sky: great big puffs of cotton threaded with twinkly lights hanging down like raindrops. I think he made themhimself, affixing the cotton to paper lanterns and suspending them from the ceiling. We walk under and around cloud after cloud, the only illumination in this long, dark hallway.
“You’re probably experiencing a change in atmospheric pressure,” he tells me, raising our hands together and flattening our palms before his left laces tightly with my right and his other hand finds the small of my back. He brings me close to him, then reverses our positions in one fluid motion. Then again.
I realize we’re dancing.
He waltzes me down the hallway, eyes sparkling, wholly riveted on my face. Neither of us is getting the steps right, but I’m not even the tiniest bit self-conscious about it and he—oh, he’s a dream, just marvelous, mesmerizing, painfullyluminousin the glow of a sky he made all for me. “That’s because we’re up in the clouds now, going higher and higher,” he says.
“I see that,” I reply, hardly able to get the words out because I’m beaming so hugely.
“You see that bird that just went by?” he teases. “Caw, caw!”
I fall sideways just a bit, giggling. He catches me, holding me closer. Our graceless stumbling makes me throw my head back and laugh harder.
“Whooooosh,”he says at my ear, a smile in his voice, “there goes an airplane.”
I shake my head, but my heart leaps out of my body with a parachute. I feel wildly out of control, like I’m standing in the surf and the water’s pulling at me, trying to knock me off my feet. I’ve gotten close to this feeling before, manufactured in the superficial relationships of my fantasies, but that feeling falls flat on its face in comparison to this.
I am bubbles and butterflies. I am fizz floating into the nightsky. I don’t know what’s happening or whatwillhappen because for once, I am not orchestrating any of this. The lines are all unscripted, every second a thrilling surprise. I’m spinning out, carried away in a current. I want to fight it and I want to surrender.
My knees go wobbly as the identity of this feeling rips its mask off and declares itself to me, but Wesley thinks my heels are the culprit.
“All that effort, and you’re still all the way down there,” he tells me with a crooked grin. I blow a bubble with my gum, letting it pop in his face.
