Delivered to the Aliens: Cosmic Connections

by Nancey Cummings

  Sophia scanned the room. The morning light didn’t do it any favors. The house needed a few more lady things and a deep cleaning to make it a comfortable home. “You got the credit for me to go on a shopping spree? You don’t even know me.”

  He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a soft smile returning to his face. “You’re my wife. I trust you.”

  He really shouldn’t. People who trusted easily were targets for predators. She should know.

  “The location’s programmed into the navigation panel,” he said and tossed her a set a keys and a credit stick. Then he withdrew a blaster from the holster at his hip and handed it to her. “You know how to use one of these?”

  Sophia nodded, placing the blaster pistol in her bag.

  “Get whatever you need,” Alton said. “The house ain’t fancy but I’d like you to be comfortable here.”

  “It’s not… that bad.”

  He laughed, loud and booming. “It looks exactly like a pair of feral bachelors have lived here for a decade. I’m sure a sweet little thing like yourself was expecting something more refined.”

  Sophia thought back to the lower levels of Aldrin One, the smelly dive bars, and her tiny apartment. “I like the fresh air and sunshine well enough to tolerate a feral bachelor.”

  The truck’s auto-nav system brought her into town without issue, rolling past empty fields. That wasn’t right, Sophia realized. She was viewing Corra through her city-eyes. There were fields of crops she didn’t know the name of and fields of alien animals she didn’t recognize but they were far from empty. Occasionally a forlorn farmhouse appeared.

  A tall white wall appeared after a bend in the road. The settlement inside the walls was a cluster of low, square buildings. Some were empty. Simple and stark. Every sign was in Corravian script and no sign of Universal anywhere.

  The truck pulled up to a low, white building identical to all the other low, white buildings in town. This must be the place. Sophia entered, a bell jingling above the door. She stepped into the dim store. Conversation stopped. Eyes and horned heads turned toward her. Every single Corravian wore a pair of tinted lenses, propped up on top of their heads. She was the only Terran in the crowd.

  A faded poster showed a Corravian warrior grappling with a giant insect. Must be a mornclaw warning notice. No giant bug wrestling. Got it.

  Forcing a sweet smile on her face, she approached the counter.

  The Corravian male behind the counter gave the air a sniff. His horns stood tall, curly wildly in his graying flaxen hair. “You smell like you belong to Altonan Zan but I ain’t never seen you around.”

  Sophia didn’t question the odd pronunciation of Alton’s name. She fished the list from her pocket. “I just arrived. Could you help me with my list? Alton said you could help me find anything I needed.”

  The male grabbed the list. “I have all this in stock.” He came around the counter with a cart. They worked their way through the store, filling the cart. Sophia picked up cleaning supplies, “nice smelling” soap and lotions, a rug, blankets, pillows, curtains, and a dozen smaller items to make the house comfortable. In dry goods, she added a few bars of chocolate, because chocolate. A girl never knows when she will need it. Finally, the male added a tight roll of foam to the pile.

  “What’s that?”

  “A bed.”

  There was no way that little thing of foam was a bed.

  “It expands. It’s comfortable. You sleep on it. Don’t get too picky, princess. It ships cheap out here to the frontier.”

  Once all the shopping was loaded into the truck, her stomach rumbled. Lunch time. The only meal option in town was a no-name cafe. The sign had a picture of a spoon, which she interpreted as “Food here.” There was a good sized crowd and the cafe had a comforting, inviting scent of good, plain food. A waitress, Corravian with violently blonde hair and too much makeup, hustled between tables.

  Much like in the General Store, conversation ceased and heads turned. They must not get a lot of Terrans in town. Or new people, period. The waitress waved Sophia to the counter.

  “Don’t mind them, sweetie,” she said in Universal. “Everyone knows everyone in a small town and new people confuse us.” She handed Sophia a menu written entirely in Corravian.

  Sophia flipped the menu over, as if her language was hiding on the back. “Do you have this in Universal?”

  “Wrong continent for Universal,” the waitress, voice cheerful. So much for Corra being an integrated Terran-Corravian community. “Either tell me what you’re in the mood for or trust me to bring you the perfect meal.”

  “Surprise me,” she said.

  The waitress served Sophia a bowl of chili with a side of cornbread, or its Corravian equivalent. Fragrant steam curled up from the bowl. It smelled amazing and tasted better. She might live in a hovel but at least the food on Corra was damn good.

  “Hey!”

  Sophia’s spine stiffened at the familiarity in the voice. That was the voice of someone who recognized her. Shit.

  An older Corravian woman with iron grey hair and an eager expression approached Sophia. A pair of heavy, yellow tinted goggles covered her eyes.

  “You’re that new Terran whore in town.”

  Charming. “Look, lady, I’m just trying to eat some lunch.”

  “Alton brought you here.”

  Sophia sighed and pushed her bowl away. Word really does get around fast.

  The woman shoved a pamphlet toward Sophia. The cover had a pastel illustration of an idealized Corravian male and baby animals.

  “Why are you giving me this?” Sophia asked.

  “As an elder and a mother,” the woman said, “I want you to appreciate that we don’t tolerate the mixing of the species here.”

  Sophia’s eyes glazed over. Day One in a small town and she found the crazy person. “Excuse me?” she asked.

  “You’ll dilute our superior Corravian genes with your weak Terran blood.”

  “Lady, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but who I dilute genes with is none of your damn business,” Sophia said without thinking. Seriously, what the hell?

  The woman fumed, her nostrils flaring.

  “Esterlin Hass! Leave this nice woman alone,” the waitress snapped, setting down a glass of iced tea.

  “You’re not the boss, Miri,” Esterlin said, vitriol flashing in her eyes. She ran her tongue over her teeth, eager for a fight. “I want to hear your Brace tell me to leave.”

  “Wells! Molig!” the waitress called loudly. A male stomped out from the kitchen, white apron stained from hard work and a towel tossed over his shoulder. He had tall, twisting horns, the kind designed for a fight. He took one look at Esterlin and jerked a thumb at the door.

  “Your fundamentalist behind isn’t welcome here, Esterlin,” Miri said.

  “I have a right to be served here!”

  “Not when you harass my customers and my sister-in-law.” Her voice was tired, like she had to remind the older woman frequently.

  “I’m a paying customer,” Esterlin said.

  Miri slapped a bill on the counter. “Consider this one on the house. Now get out.” She stared at Esterlin until the woman left, door slamming. Turning to Sophia with a warm smile, “Sorry about that. She gets worked up. How about some sweet patta pie to finish your meal?”

  “You’re my sister-in-law?”

  Miri blushed, sliding a slice toward her with a thick dollop of homemade whip cream. “Alton’s my little brother. I didn’t want to mention it while you were eating.”

  “Oh, but I have so many questions.” So many. “How did you know I married Alton?”

  “You smell like him.”

  Oh. She did spend the night in his bed. A blush crept over Sophia. She focused on enjoying the pie. The crust was flakey and buttery. It was divine.

  “Everyone in town’s shocked he found a mate. No one had any idea!”

  “The pie is really good. I’ve never had sweet patta before,”
Sophia said, trying to change the subject. She didn’t want everyone to know she was a mail-order bride. It seemed so… The right word to describe the situation eluded her. Desperate? She was desperate to leave Aldrin One. Alton was desperate for a mate. Desperate seemed about right.

  “How did Alton find a Terran like you?” Miri asked.

  “You asking because I’m Terran or because you’re curious?”

  “Because I love my little brother and he’s wanted a mate since females stopped being icky.”

  Sophia smiled at the honestly. “We were introduced by a mutual acquaintance.”

  Miri snorted. “Well, that’s vague and mysterious.”

  “My name’s Sophia Barber, by the way. Pleased to meet you.” Sophia extended her hand.

  Miri stared at the extended hand, blinking slowly. She took it with her left hand, gripping it by the fingers and gave it a weak pump. “Miri. My Brace is Wells and Molig there in the kitchen. They don’t say much but they cook like nothing else.”

  “Do all Corravian males cook?”

  “Alton trying to impress you with his cooking? Is it working?”

  The blush returned. Miri gave a joyous laugh. Another diner signaled her, grabbing her attention. She moved away, water jug in hand, cackling with laughter.

  A man leaned against the lunch counter next to her. Sophia kept her eyes fixed on her slice of pie. “Hey, ain’t you…”

  Oh stars. Not again. Had no one in this tiny town ever seen someone from Earth before? Or was it the novelty of a new person in town that got them all in a flap?

  “The new gal in town who thinks people who live in the country are simple,” he said.

  Sophia breathed a sigh of relief. “I never said those words.”

  “But it was insinuated,” the man said. “You like that ten cent word, darling? Insinuate. I’m insinuating that you’re a little stuck up for a good looking broad.”

  Sophia slammed her fork onto the counter. So much for friendly small towns. Her head sprang like a coil toward the man. “What is it about me sitting here, eating my lunch, makes you think I care about your opinion.”

  The Corravian male was the most gorgeous person she’d ever seen in real life. Golden complexion and hair, lightened from working in the sun. Broad chest, strong shoulders, and a proud pair of twisting horns. His eyes were an arresting blue, the color of the prairie sky.

  The man dressed like a cinema version of an Old Earth cowboy: light brown cowboy hat, plaid cotton shirt unbuttoned at the collar, rolled sleeves revealing skin tanned from working in the sun, shirt tucked into slim fitting jeans. A pair of grubby work gloves were stuffed into the front pocket. The jeans were tight and left little to the imagination. The bulge to one side implied he had a very satisfied girlfriend.

  It took everything in her not to fan herself and sigh with unrequited desire.

  The sparkle in his eyes coupled with the cocky grin said he knew exactly the effect he had on women and he loved it.

  This was ridiculous. Sophia had an objectively gorgeous male at home, her husband, who seemed only too eager to get on more intimately familiar terms with her. Why was she making goo-goo eyes at this alien cowboy?

  The alien cowboy winked.

  Sophia squirmed on the stool, thighs squeezing together.

  He was trouble. So much trouble. Sophia needed to talk herself out of doing something real dumb.

  Typical good looking jerk thinks he can melt women with his backhanded compliments. There. That got her blood up.

  “Do you need me to repeat myself? Because that involves my shoe up your ass,” she said.

  His loud laugh echoed in the cafe. “You’re all right, asali. Zan,” he said, holding out his hand.

  Sophia looked at it pointedly but did not shake. She didn’t know what asali meant but it sounded adorable and she did not want the hot, sexy male referring to her as adorable.

  Wait. Really?

  Zan settled onto the stool next to hers. His hat landed on the counter and he waved to the waitress. “My usual to go, Miri.” For a minute he watched Miri’s curvy figure while she had her back turned, making fresh coffee. Miri wore a short blue dress that hugged her hips and left no doubt she could bear healthy children. Her tail, a slightly darker tawny from her face, came out the back of the dress through a flap. Was it rude to stare at her tail like that? Did all Corravian clothing have a tail flap?

  “How do pants work with the tail,” she wondered out loud.

  “Asking about my tail already? My, you are a bold one,” Zan said, chest puffing up with pride. His own tail flicked playfully against her leg. Sophia batted it away with a frown.

  “So, how are you getting on at the sentry post? You have everything you need?”

  Sophia took a large bite of the pie and chewed slowly, making the irritatingly attractive male wait. “I don’t see how it’s any concern of yours,” she said at length.

  “Well, I thought it was relevant considering how we’re married and all, but I must be mistaken,” Zan said with a grin that could melt her clothes.

  Miri returned to the counter with his order. Putting his hat back on, he gave a wink to Miri and tipped the hat to Sophia. “Be seeing you around.”

  Wait. Married? Sophia jumped up from the stool but he was already out the door.

  “Married?” No, no, no. She was married to Alton.

  Alton Zan.

  Fuck.

  Miri refilled the iced tea. “He’s just trying to get your temperature.”

  “What does he mean married?”

  “He’s one half of your Brace,” Miri said matter-of-factly. Sophia stared blankly at her. “You know, a Corravian Brace. Two males, one female. Like my two fellas back in the kitchen? Tradition?”

  Nope. Not ringing any bells.

  “Didn’t Alton explain that to you?”

  “No, I can’t say that he did.”

  Zan

  “So what do you think?” Alton asked.

  Zan picked up the beer and took a long drink before answering. The lights in the bar were dim but Corravians didn’t need much light to see. “She’s got a mouth on her.”

  “That’s never bothered me,” Alton said. He leaned over the billiards table, cue stick in hand and lined up a shot. Drawing the stick back like a spring, he released the tension, sending the white cue ball across the green felt like a rocket. It nudged the red striped ball into the pocket.

  Zan scratched the base of his horns, studying the table. Alton was so desperate for a mate that he pulled this mail-order bride stunt. Zan’s rational side understood that Alton had stooped to extreme methods because he reached his breaking point. His Brace partner risked destroying their unit for a mate. Zan had denied Alton’s desire for a mate and children for several years and he couldn’t wait for Zan to come around to his way of thinking.

  That’s what the considerate, rational side of him expected.

  The other side? The stubborn side was mad as hell that Alton pulled such a harebrained move and expected Zan to just roll over. Zan had legitimate reasons to not want a mate. He had always been upfront about it. Alton knew Zan’s concerns when they started their Brace. Alton completely ignored him in his selfish quest.

  “I’m still only going to give her one week,” Zan said. One week to drive her away. One week to prove to Alton that they did not need a mate or the risks involved with vulnerable, fragile females. Better to live a solitary life, taking pleasures one or two times with a willing partner but nothing more serious than a fling. No commitment. No risk of heartbreak. Zan simply couldn’t survive having his heart break a second time.

  Still, that Terran female had spirit. Spirit and fight was exactly what a person needed to survive on the frontier.

  “She’s got a nice rack, too,” he said.

  Alton nodded. “I’m more of an ass man.”

  “See,” Zan said, picking up his cue stick, “how our tastes are complementary. I get the front, you get the back.” He circled the tab
le, scouting for the perfect shot. “Did you notice how she bounces when she gets worked up? Adorable. I want her to bounce like that on my face. A good, angry, bouncy screw,” Zan said.

  Alton grinned and waited for the other male to make his shot. A solid connection and the ball sank in the pocket. He said, “Too bad I’m her favorite.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “I’ve seen her without panties on.”

  Chapter Seven

  Sophia

  Sophia checked the marriage contract first thing. The truck squealed to a stop in front of the house. She raced upstairs and found the information packet the agency gave her. There, clear as day, “Sophia Barber enters into a marriage contract with the Brace of Alton Whittix and Zan Faraden.”

  Damn. In her haste, she didn’t read the contract carefully. She was married to two aliens.

  A cold chill swept over her. Yes, it was obvious two men lived in the house. Alton always said “we”, never I. Sophia assumed he meant the two of them, together like a unit, not him and another male.

  A pair of feral bachelors.

  Those were his exact words.

  Make the best out of a bad situation. That’s what her mother always said. Make lemonades out of lemons.

  How was it possible to make the best out of this situation? One alien husband. Fine. She made peace with the idea. Two? How would the logistics work? Did they alternate days? Neither one had been in the house at the same time so far.

  Or did they do everything together? Like, everything everything. The idea terrified her and exhilarated her in equal measure. She didn't hate the idea. Actually, she kind of liked it.

  Then again she was the worst judge of character. She lived with Derek for a year, after all.

  How the hell did she make lemonade out of all that?

  Leave. That was always an option.

  Sophia checked the balance on the credit stick. Hmm. Not enough for a ticket off planet. She was stuck on Corra, which Sophia was oddly okay with. Leaving seemed wrong. She’d only met Alton and Zan once, but they drew her to them. Well, Alton. He cooked and made her so deliciously flustered. Zan… Well, he just infuriated her. Besides, breaking the marriage contract came with heavy penalties. Sophia was too broke to leave even if she had the credit for a ticket. She could tough out the year, get her bonus credit and then go anywhere that tickled her fancy.