Ryder Bailey had been my childhood obsession, my pre-teen dream, my teen angst. I’d been in love with the man before I even understood that love might add up to something more than holding hands and swapping sandwiches at lunch.
After an eight-year absence, he’d come back to Ordinary, set up his own architecture business and, wonder of wonders, dated me.
Once.
Apparently, me taking a bullet was the deal-breaker for our relationship. He’d had his fun, we’d tumbled into bed for exactly one night, then just slightly slower-than-a-speeding-bullet, he was over me.
I still wasn’t over him being over me.
Stupid heart.
“Hey,” I answered, out of breath, even though it wasn’t physical exertion that made my lungs malfunction.
Three months. We’d been working together off and on, me the Police Chief him our only Reserve Officer, for three months. I’d done my best not to be anywhere near him.
My sisters had wanted to kick him off the force completely, but we needed the manpower. Since they couldn’t kick him out, they’d resorted to giving him the crap jobs, scheduling him opposite me, and occasionally making him ride along with them and their silent disapproval.
“Are you naked?” His voice was low, warm, teasing. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’d been drinking.
Whoa. Not what I’d expected. I pulled the phone away from my ear to glance at the screen, then pulled it back so I could talk.
“Are you drunk? This is Delaney,” I said. “Police Chief Delaney.”
“I know.”
Nothing but the soft sound of his breathing and a background noise I couldn’t quite place. Cars? Voices?
“I’m at work,” I said, happy that the words came out steady. “I don’t know where you are, or what you think you’re doing, but don’t call me like this, Ryder.”
“Wait. Delaney.” His phone moved and a whoosh of wind gurgled down the line. “I thought you’d be in bed...”
A horn honked, and then another. A bus or something bigger...subway maybe, clogged up the background.
Where ever he was, it wasn’t Ordinary. And from the slight softening at the end of his words, I’d say he was either exhausted or under the influence.
“Are you all right?” It was the best I could give him. Just because he broke my heart didn’t mean I shouldn’t worry about his well-being.
That was sort of the job description of being police chief. I’d be just as concerned for anyone else’s well-being in Ordinary.
Liar, my heart whispered.
“Hell, I didn’t think. What time is it?” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Ryder? You need back up?”
He chuckled a little at that, then the sound behind him grew louder, like maybe a lot of cars had all roared to life inside a parking garage.
“No, thanks. I’m good. I just. I wasn’t thinking. Sorry about that, Chief. Should have listened and had the extra orange and cookie. Dizzy. What time is it? Oh. Morning.”
“Ryder?” That slightly defeated tone in his voice kicked spikes through my heart. He sounded like he was saying good-bye. Like he was making a last call before being shipped off into something dangerous.
But Ryder was an architect. He didn’t lead a dangerous life.
“I’m good. And Delaney? It’s really nice to hear your voice. Sorry I...just sorry.”
He hung up.
He hung up on me.
My heart rattled back into place like a dropped dinner dish, swirling, swirling to a ragged clatter.
Why had he called me? Why had I heard fear in his voice, or if not fear, worry, tension?
Why had he sounded like a man who’d been given his last phone call and had decided to waste it on a woman he’d dumped?
Why was I still staring at the disconnected screen on my phone?
I was dimly aware of Odin dragging his arm away, the door shutting, the room quieting. I looked up.
Dozens of gods were staring at me.
Neat.
More than half of them looked like they could read my mind and knew exactly all the things I was thinking about Ryder. How much I still cared for him even though he dumped me. How much I wanted to be his friend–no, how much I wanted to be more than that. How much my heart would jump at the chance to have him again, even though my mind knew that could never happen.
He had dumped me while I was lying in a hospital bed, shot. There was no chance for us, he’d made that clear. And I wouldn’t let him hurt me again. I was done being burned by the men I thought loved me. I was fine being alone and didn’t need to share my crazy life with anyone.
Then why did the sound of Ryder’s voice make me so lonely?
I pocketed my cell and tipped my chin up, the drip of rain slithering from my long braid down my back. “All right. Where’s the emergency?”
I did a quick head count. Twenty-five deities in the room. I knew them all, from Athena to Zeus. As per the rules of vacationing in Ordinary, they all had regular mortal jobs and gave back to the community in some way.
Death, who went by the name, Than, was the newest god to give this vacation thing a whirl and had been in Ordinary for the last three months. He stood off to the right of the room, close to the glass blowing furnaces Crow used to make his glass art, and where Crow taught tourists how to make their own fragile, molten treasures.
Than was tall, thin to the point of gauntness, and austere in his manners. Today’s outfit was a bright pink shirt with the outline of Bigfoot centered above words that said: UNBELIEVABLY ORDINARY. Over that, he wore a black Hawaiian shirt with what I hoped were oddly phallic geoducks. If not, then he needed an X-rating on that shirt.
His black hair was shaved close to his skull, and his eyes missed nothing as he silently considered each and every deity in the room. When he met my gaze, his expression was quiet and intense, studying me. He blinked once, a slow closing of that invasive gaze, and I found it suddenly easier to breathe.
He didn’t smile—he never smiled—but there was the glimmer of wry humor in the angle of his eyebrow. He was enjoying this turn of events, this new, ordinary life he was living.
The gods could live, work, and even fall in love in Ordinary. However, procreating while in Ordinary was not allowed.
So far, none of the gods had wanted to have kids during their vacation time which meant, so far, I hadn’t had to ban any of them from Ordinary.
The other deities shuffled and shoved Crow forward into the center of the room. They formed a half ring around him. None of them seemed happy to have been dragged away from their jobs and lives for the man who now stood in the middle of the room.
“Crow,” I said.
“Delaney Reed.” He gave me a smile that looked like he’d just swallowed needles. “Good of you to come.”
“You called. We’re here. What’s the emergency?”
He wore a white T-shirt under a flannel hoodie. The white shirt brought out the coppery darkness of his skin and made his brown eyes glow beneath artistically messy black hair. He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.
“There’s a...situation.”
I waited for him to continue. We all waited. It was uncomfortable.
“Get on with it!” Odin yelled.