by Cara Bristol
Now I could see the problem—Earth misconceptions had blocked her receptivity. She couldn’t accept what she didn’t believe. If she didn’t believe in Fated mates, of course she wouldn’t recognize him—me.
“How did we get on this topic anyway?” she asked.
“You asked what I did with my time.”
“That’s right.” She peered at me sideways. “So, what do you do for fun?”
“I like to read.”
“Like what?”
“Well, I finished Captain Underpants, James and the Giant Peach, and I’m about to start The Little Prince.”
“You mean you read to the children.”
“That, too.” I nodded. Reading to kits helped me learn to read as well. “I’ve also been learning to play a sporting game called baseball. My brother has joined a team.”
“Kord plays baseball?” She frowned.
I chuckled. “No, not him. Anthony. He’s a kit in Mrs. Jennetta’s class. He’s not really my brother, more like my little friend. It’s a club I belong to.”
“Oh, you mean like Friend 2 Family.”
“Yes! That’s it! Anthony doesn’t have parents.”
“You do a lot with kids.”
I shrugged. “I’m in training.”
“Training for what?”
“To have my own. Besides, I like kits.”
An expression almost like pain flashed across her face, but then it vanished under a smile. “You’re a good guy, Braxx. The woman who gets you is going to be very lucky.”
She was the female who was supposed to get me. I started to tell her but held back the comment at the last moment. Confessing my love and devotion in the past had pushed her away. I’d progressed further tonight than I had in the previous year. Maybe being her friend would be the way to her heart. “Thank you,” I said.
Playing on a hunch and hoping the Fates would forgive my lie, I said, “I’m sure the Intergalactic Dating Agency will find me an appropriate female soon.”
“So you’ve reactivated your membership?”
Was there an edge to her tone? I pretended to study the passing scenery. “You told me to.” I skipped around a direct lie.
“I imagine you’re quite popular with the ladies. You must get a lot of date requests.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” I said, relieved to be able to answer honestly. “The IDA focuses on finding the right match instead of a lot of dates. They advertise a 99 percent success rate.”
“Oh, well, if it’s advertised, it must be true.”
Definite sharpness there. My heart soared.
“If the IDA is so good at what they do, how come they haven’t matched you yet?”
Because you’re my female! A Fated mate trumped all others. The IDA boasted a 99 percent success rate, but the Fates achieved a 100 percent.
“These things take time,” I said. “I had a date scheduled for tonight, but I canceled to watch Clemmy,” I lied, feeling less guilty about it. The Earthers had a saying: “All’s fair in love and war,” and this was a battle to win her heart. I couldn’t let conscience sabotage our future.
“Well, I’m glad you gave up on me.” She sounded more unhappy than glad, which made me feel very happy. “I hope we can be friends. It will make it easier since Barb is like a sister to me, and you and Kord are brothers.”
“Yes, friends—I would like that.” Friends, lovers, mates. The whole package. I’d start with friends and work up from there.
The back seat had gotten quiet, so I twisted around to check on Clemmy. She’d fallen asleep with her fingers in her mouth.
“She’s sleeping now,” I whispered, even though we’d been talking at normal volume.
“Guess we’d better head back, then.” Her tone and shoulders slumped. Did that mean she was enjoying my company?
“Guess so.” I hated for the night to end, but, all in all, it had been successful. “Thank you for helping.”
“Happy to do it.”
She cranked a left at the intersection then two more lefts and a right to drive back to Kord and Barb’s hut.
All it had taken was a reverse in direction to head the right way.
Chapter Seven
Holly
While Braxx snuggled a sleeping Clemmy against his chest, I unbuckled the empty car seat and lifted it out of the car. Motion-sensor floodlights illuminated the sidewalk as I followed him to the front door, ogling his backside. Instead of his usual buckskins, he wore a formfitting, soft heather-gray T-shirt and tight blue jeans. If he’d had a dime in his pocket, I could have discerned if it was heads or tails. He didn’t have a dime, but he did have a hell of a nice ass. Not to mention long and strong legs, and shoulders straining the stretchiness of his T-shirt.
Focused on his rear, I almost ran into him when he stopped dead. “You’re going to have to unlock the door,” he whispered and turned to face me. “They keys are in my left front pocket.”
I stared at his zipper, at how the fabric cupped his crotch—
“Holly? The keys?”
“Right.” My cheeks heated. Had he caught me checking him out? I set the car seat on the sidewalk while I wiggled my hand into his pocket. My face grew hotter as the key eluded me, and I had to grope around for it. I couldn’t help but be conscious of how close I was to parts I ought not to be thinking about since I’d consigned him to the friend zone. By the time I hooked the key ring, I was burning up all over.
Embarrassment. And…lust.
Now that he was safe, since he’d agreed to be just friends, all my desires and fantasies about him had unleashed.
I fumbled with the key but got it into the lock, opened the door, and stood aside so he could enter.
“Let’s put her in the kittery,” he whispered.
Kittery?
I grabbed the remote from the coffee table and followed him to the nursery. I zapped the carrier, transforming it to a bassinet, and he gently laid Clemmy in the crib. We tiptoed out and into the living room.
“Obah!” He flashed thumbs up and a megawatt smile that made my stomach and nether regions clench.
Why was I reacting this way? While he’d been coming onto me, I wasn’t interested. Now that he’d agreed to be friends, suddenly I got the hots for him? What the hell was wrong with me? Barb had had to overcome a few issues with her past before she’d been able to get involved with Kord, but I had no issues. I didn’t play games. I didn’t throw myself at men who were unavailable. I didn’t reject nice guys in favor of assholes. I didn’t suffer from low self-esteem. I didn’t allow myself to be manipulated or taken advantage of. Unencumbered by baggage, I traveled light, leaving me open to new, positive experiences.
Look up well-adjusted in the dictionary, and you’d see my smiling face.
I only had one problem. Actually, it wasn’t a problem. You could do something about a problem. My situation was a circumstance. I couldn’t change it; I could only accept it, and make decisions accordingly, which I had done.
Braxx had come on so strong when we’d first met, I’d tagged him as a Casanova, a player. After spending the evening with him, seeing him with Clemmy, and learning more about him, I realized he was a nice guy. Sweet. Humble. Ready to commit. Protective. A+ daddy material. The perfect potential husband. The kind of guy any woman would be thrilled to get. It wouldn’t take long for the Intergalactic Dating Agency to match him.
So, I had to reject him for his sake.
He wanted children, and I couldn’t rob him of a chance to be a father. Not just him, his people. The survival of his species depended on Dakonians producing offspring.
I adored children. But every smile from Clemmy and every other baby, every gurgle, their sweet new-baby smell, stabbed through still-aching wounds.
I couldn’t have kids.
An implanted contraceptive device had caused an infection, which resulted in such severe scarring, I’d been rendered sterile and heartbroken.
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As soon as I’d delivered the bad news to Addison, he’d called off our engagement. Besides the blood tests required by law, the Smythes had required a full medical exam to verify worthiness to marry into their esteemed family. “A technicality. Nothing to worry about,” Addison had assured me before I’d gone in for the tests a month before our wedding.
The exam discovered the infection I’d suffered a year previously had left me unable to get pregnant.
“I’m so sorry, Holly,” Addison had said. “Unfortunately, this changes everything. I need a wife who can give me an heir.” Filtered through a layer of hurt and disbelief, his voice had seemed to come from far away.
“What are you saying?”
“I can’t marry you.”
“We could adopt. There are plenty of children who need parents.” I delivered a moot argument, his defection altering my feelings in a blink of an eye. I wouldn’t have married him then if he was last the man on Earth and begged me with his dying breath.
“No. It has to be my real son, my own flesh and blood.”
It? An interesting choice of pronoun for a man for whom children were all-important. “What would happen if you produce daughters?”
“Science has advanced. There are ways to manipulate conception to increase the odds of getting a boy, but it’s all academic now, isn’t it? Again, I’m so sorry. I’m the sole son, and I have to continue the family name.”
Addison had four older sisters. He was the baby, the fifth child. I realized his parents had kept popping out kids until they got their favored boy, the golden child adored and raised with such entitlement they’d turned him into an asshole. “Perhaps your parents should have hedged their bets and had more sons, then!”
“There’s no need for sarcasm. We can be civil, can’t we?” And he’d peered down his hooked Smythe nose like sarcasm was a greater offense than breaking an engagement or being a douche. I’d grabbed something from the desk in the study of his family’s Beverly Hills mansion and thrown it at him. It shattered against the wall. I’d charged out the massive front doors and never looked back. I never did know what I’d broken, but, two weeks later, I received a letter from the Smythe attorney saying they were willing to overlook the destruction of a “priceless heirloom,” provided I never darkened their doorstep again. Like I ever would.
The irony of tragic ironies? Addison had been the one to insist on the contraceptive implant in the first place. “An unplanned, unwed pregnancy would cause a scandal. Smythes do not have children out of wedlock,” he’d said.
“It wouldn’t have to be out of wedlock,” I’d pointed out. “If I got pregnant, we could get married.”
“People would count. And Smythes do not get trapped into marriage.”
I’ve kicked myself for not dumping his ass right then. So much pain could have been avoided. I would have had a different future. Braxx and I could have had a future. Coulda, woulda, shoulda.
Braxx stood there in Kord and Barb’s living room, his expression open and friendly. His hair, mussed by frustration, needed combing. A shadow of a beard darkened his jaw. His T-shirt had wet spots where Clemmy had drooled on him. My foolish stomach fluttered. He was not only a better man than Addison—not that the bar had been set very high—but a good, crazy-hot guy who deserved to have his wishes fulfilled. However, I was a dream breaker, not a dream maker.
“Well, listen…it’s…uh, getting late, and I’d better be going. Clemmy will be okay now.” I wrestled with my desire to do the right thing and my growing attraction.
“Thank you again for coming to my rescue,” he said.
“Don’t mention it. I enjoyed it.”
“I’ll be sure to tell Kord and Barb how you helped.”
I shrugged. “Lucky guess on my part.”
He stuck out his hand. “We should shake on our amity. Seal the deal.”
I hesitated.
“Isn’t that what Earthers do?” he asked.
Funny how friendship could be the start of something—or the end of something. My heart ached at what circumstances forced me to give up.
His warm palm enclosed mine like a hand hug, and a current of electricity shot up my arm. I looked up into dark, enigmatic eyes, and I’d swear his horns swelled and pulsed. “I’m glad we can be friends,” he said.
“I am, too.” I longed for so much more than friendship.
He released my hand, and immediately I missed the warmth and contact. “Well, uh, good night.” Comfortable companionship had vanished—for me. He didn’t seem to notice any awkwardness. With nothing left to do or say, I pivoted and strode to the door while I could contain the tears gathering behind my eyes.
“Holly?”
“Yeah?” I didn’t dare turn.
“Am I still banned from Barbie Q’s?”
It would be easier if I never saw him again, but what right did I have to bar him from the restaurant? What right had I ever had? Other than making his interest known, he hadn’t caused trouble. He’d been a perfect customer. Barb owned the restaurant, not me. I only helped manage it.
“I guess not,” I said and fled.
* * * * *
Through the window of Barb’s office lair, I watched Dixie lead Braxx to his table. He was back in his buckskins, the ones with the beaded hems. His shoulder-length glossy hair was tied back with a kel thong. He resembled a Native American, except for the horns. I sighed.
“I’m guessing your sigh means Braxx has arrived.” Barb rocked as she nursed the baby. “Why are you two still fighting? Didn’t you work things out when you came over to help with Clemmy?”
“We were never fighting,” I corrected her, “and we’ve agreed to be friends.”
“So what’s with the look?”
“I don’t have a look.”
She had a look as she twisted her mouth sardonically and continued to rock. “Why don’t you give the guy a chance?”
“Oh, like you did with Kord?”
“Excuse me?” She arched her eyebrows and jutted her chin at Clemmy. “What is she if not a chance?”
“Well, eventually you did—but not until you gave him the runaround and then broke up with him before coming to your senses.”
“Which is why you should learn from my mistakes. Anytime you can benefit from someone else’s screw-up, that’s like a free lunch. Accept it and say thank you.”
“Barb…he wants kids. He’s a natural father.” I turned away from the window and paced.
Barb kissed the top of Clemmy’s head. “You can adopt.”
“Because that suggestion went over so well with Addison.”
“Addison is a stupid ass. Don’t judge other men by him.”
“Dakonians need to reproduce. Adopting children won’t replenish their dwindling population.”
“Neither will coming to Earth and having kids here. You’re looking for excuses. You’re afraid of getting hurt.”
Once bitten, twice shy. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. I could think of a lot of trite sayings to fit this situation, including the pot calling the kettle black.
Due to a dysfunctional family background, Barb had been terrified of having kids and being a bad mom—so she’d rejected Kord. They’d reconciled but not before she’d put them both through the wringer. “And, again, I say, what about you?”
“And, again, I say, ‘Free lunch’.”
“It wouldn’t be right to deprive him of having children,” I said.
“Why don’t you let him decide? Be honest with him. Tell him the truth.”
The idea of holding that conversation caused me to break out in a cold sweat. I’d been burned before. When the doctor had delivered the bad news, I’d been devastated, but I’d expected sympathy and support from Addison, not walking papers. What if Braxx treated me the same way?
In stature and character, he stood head and shoulders above my jerkoff ex, but the one thing they had in common was a re
quirement to reproduce. My ex desired an heir; Braxx needed progeny to carry on the Dakonian genes. Addison wanted his surname to survive; Braxx fought for his race to survive.
Just because children would be born on Earth didn’t mean they had to remain here. In fact, Barb’s high school classmate Moxie Maguire met a Dakonian through the IDA, married him, and relocated to Dakon. Interplanetary travel wasn’t as simple as hopping a commercial airliner and jetting to the Bahamas, but coming to Earth didn’t have to be a one-way trip, either.
“Braxx works as a teacher’s aide at an elementary school,” I said. “He volunteers with Friend 2 Family.”
“So maybe those will serve as outlets for him.”
“Instead of having his own children?” I twisted my clammy hands. In my mind’s eye, I envisioned telling him the truth. There wasn’t any scenario that didn’t involve disappointment, extreme awkwardness, pity, rejection, heartbreak…
Clemmy stopped nursing. After burping her and settling her into the Baby Tram 1000 swing, Barb turned toward me. “How have other men you’ve dated reacted to the news?”
“I haven’t told anybody.”
“Nobody?”
“It’s only been two years since Addison and I broke up. I haven’t had a serious relationship since then. It’s not the kind of thing you share on a first date.” I twirled my hair around my index finger and affected a Valley Girl accent. “I’m like a Leo and sterile, you know?”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
I shrugged. “This is a circumstance I have to deal with. I can’t have kids. I need a guy who either doesn’t want them or already has them.”
Barb was shaking her head before I even finished speaking. “Don’t settle,” she said. “If he’s the one you want, give him a chance. Get to know him a little better. You spent one evening with him at my house. Mostly you’ve been avoiding him. Spend time with him. Feel him out. Have some heart-to-hearts. Then you’ll have your answer.”
“That might have been a way to approach it, except, he only wants to be friends. He’s given up the whole you-are-my-mate idea.”