Blaze: A Firefighter Romance

by Lisa Lace

  "It's nothing. I'm just a little tired of tossing and turning on the new mattress we bought last week."

  "Me too. It's going to take a few more nighttime activities before we break it in," Eden said with a grin. She sighed and traced her finger along the buzzed sides of Thiago's head. "If a new mattress is our biggest problem, we've got a good thing going here. Malatov's going to prison as we speak. You're practically a celebrity now, and the payout for his capture was more than we had ever imagined. My family on Earth is living happy and debt-free. I'd say our life is divine right now, don't you think?"

  "I suppose so," Thiago replied. He chugged back the rest of his ale and placed the empty goblet on the dashboard.

  Eden took the passenger's seat and tapped her toes nervously against the leg of her chair. She wanted to say something to Thiago, but she wasn't sure how to open the topic of conversation.

  "You know what this place needs? A little music."

  Pulling up the radio on his dashboard screen, she selected a random station and started the music. A faint tune drifted through the speakers before the system sparked and died out. Eden pressed some random buttons, but they had no effect. Thiago bent forward in his seat and removed the cone of the exterior speaker.

  "Well, this is a surprise."

  The cone dropped between Thiago's feet. Eden clapped a hand over her mouth. Two baby alien arachnids the size of newborn puppies crawled out of the speaker opening. They each scooped one onto their lap. Thiago and Eden's heads hit each other as they peered into the radio opening. Two large broken eggs with purple polka-dots on their shells were nested deep inside the ship, incubated by the warmth.

  "Hercules was a girl!" Eden said, gently crooning as she tickled the giggling creature in her lap.

  "I suppose she was," said Thiago, his cheeks flushing with rosy affection at the baby animal burrowed in his lap. He glanced up at Eden. "This is amazing. I'm glad Hercules will live on, in a way, through her children. Why don't you take this one, too? These babies call for a proper celebration. You can't have any of the Pasquin ale, but I think there's some honeyberry champagne in the refrigerator that's safe for humans."

  "No. I can't."

  "Why not?"

  Eden lowered her eyes meaningfully, rubbing one hand on her stomach. "Hercules wasn't the only mother on board."

  Thiago smiled as Eden took his cold, clammy hand and warmed it between her palms. The pair leaned in close together. The tips of their noses touched as their lips locked in a long, passionate kiss. When they finally broke apart, their eyes stared out into the distance.

  A new adventure awaited them beyond the fluffy formations of pink clouds on the horizon.

  Wrong Alien

  A TerraMates Novel

  Chapter One

  ANNALEE

  I walked out of the childcare facility and stepped onto one of the transporter pads that had finally been installed around town, entering the coordinates closest to my second job. Some people refused to use the transporters. They were afraid their bodies might not emerge at their destination. Not me.

  If there was a new device or gadget, I had it. If there was new technology somewhere, I was the first in line to try it. I swiped my phone over the payment processor and waited, tapping my fingers nervously against my thigh.

  The moment stretched too long, and I bit my lip. Not again. A beep sounded, and the screen lit up: Transaction incomplete due to insufficient funds.

  I couldn't believe it. I just got paid. How could my mother have spent it all already? I angrily pressed my lips together. Now I would have to dip into my college savings for everyday expenses, and that made me upset.

  I had worked in different places since I was twelve years old. I had started out babysitting and working under the table at my father's restaurant. Then I got a job at a summer camp while I was in high school. When the restaurant closed, I got another job as a waitress at a fancy high-end restaurant where I made huge tips in addition to my paycheck.

  When I finished high school, I started working at a childcare center, taking care of three and four-year-olds and running the preschool program — plus my job waiting tables at the new restaurant in the evenings. I was chronically exhausted and frankly, a little depressed at how little my life resembled my dreams.

  I wanted to be a teacher. I had always wanted to, as long as I could remember. I wanted to walk into my classroom and see a bunch of sweet little shining faces looking up at me. I wanted to create fabulous lessons that would engage the kids and have them learning new things in such interesting ways that they wouldn't even know they were learning.

  I wanted those sweethearts to come in and give me hugs and apples and pictures of people with arms coming out of their heads. And I wanted to be well-paid so I wouldn't have to work so hard anymore.

  I also wanted a pony.

  The screen was still flashing the insufficient funds message.

  Right. Like I would ever get to become a teacher.

  I tried not to get down on myself, but ever since my parents got divorced, my mother's life had taken a turn for the worse. She could hardly take care of herself anymore. She was always shopping for great 'deals', as she called them, and spending all the money. I needed to move out. Even if I had to pay all the rent myself, I could still save more if she wasn't spending everything I made. But I didn't see how she would manage without me.

  What did I have to show from all my years of saving? I had saved nearly every penny, working summers and weekends, and almost every weeknight after school. Now that I had a full-time job, I tried to keep half my paycheck. My money disappeared like water down a drain.

  I stepped off the transporter pad and began walking up the street. There was a cold drizzle coming down, and my uniform was getting damp. The restaurant was a thirty-minute walk away. Even though I took quick steps, I wasn't sure if I would make it on time.

  How much did I have saved? Only one year's tuition. I didn't even want to go to the best university. All that work and I could only pay for one measly year. The thought made me want to cry.

  I needed five hundred thousand credits to go to school and get an education degree. Tears sprang to my eyes as I walked. I wondered if I would ever be able to get that much money. I had been denied a student loan twice before because my mother couldn't pass the credit check. My father? I didn't know where he lived now or if he was even alive.

  I sniffed and wiped at my eyes behind my Internet-connected glasses. When I blinked, the time popped up in front of my retinas. Shit. I was going to be late. I couldn't look like a mess when I got to work, so I made myself stop crying. It wouldn't help matters. The prettier I looked, the better the tips. I fixed my make up as much as I could. I stood up straighter.

  I would earn the money somehow. I would figure it out. I would become a teacher.

  I had made this vow before to myself. Today with the clouds and the rain and the insufficient funds message, it was a bit much to take. Combined with being late for work...my manager hated when I was late...it all just seemed so hopeless. I sighed. The suffocating feeling of being trapped in a life I didn't want and had never asked for weighed me down.

  If only there was some other way to get the money. But any other way was probably against the law. If I couldn't get a loan and it would take me years to save, the only other option for getting that much money was taking it.

  I wouldn't do that. I snorted at the thought. I couldn't steal.

  But if only there were a way to get the money that wasn't stealing...I felt my heart longing for some other way. An easier way than working my fingers to the bone for the next ten years. At this rate, I would be dead of exhaustion before I even had a chance to go to college.

  If only there were some other way.

  That night, as I lay on my bed at midnight, trying to relax enough to go to sleep, I pulled out my phone. Sometimes when I feel bad, I'll buy myself a new app. It's the only indulgence I allow myself because they're not very expensive. I know it
sounds like something my mother would do: buying stuff when you're feeling down. But it was a small thing, and it made me happy.

  I tapped on the store, and a page came up, showing different categories. I went through all my favorites but found nothing that interested me. Back on the front page, I noticed a new group. It was called Love and Relationships.

  I hadn't had a boyfriend since high school. When would I find time to go on a date when I was working two jobs? In fact, I had turned down a guy who asked for a date tonight. Instead, I came home and hung out with myself. I preferred technology to people. Technology didn't let me down unless I forgot to update my phone.

  But Love and Relationships seemed interesting.

  I stared at the category, then tapped it to see what sort of apps were in there. The first one that I saw was one called M8r — as in mate-er. Cute. Developed by a company called TerraMates.

  TerraMates? As in find your soul mate?

  I tapped on it. What the hell could this app be for?

  Oh my God. It was a mail-order bride service.

  I giggled. Who would be desperate enough to use an app to arrange their marriage? I read through the description, laughing until I got to the fine print. You had to click twice to get there, but I always did. I never knew what things the app developers were trying to get away with, and I always read everything, especially the fine print.

  At the bottom after reading all the other legalese, in what must have been 5 point font, it said they compensated female applicants for the worry and stress caused by leaving Earth and moving far away to an alien planet. At least, that's what I understood from the convoluted legal language.

  I sat back in shock. So the men were aliens? And the women got paid to marry them? Holy shit.

  Of course, my next question was, How much do they pay?

  "Do you wish to become a TerraMates bride, Miss Beauchene?" Mrs. Lynch, the owner of this TerraMates branch, looked over her glasses and down her long and pointy nose at me in an intimidating manner.

  I worked with three-year-olds and senile, rich assholes who snap their fingers for my service. I wasn't intimidated easily.

  "Actually," I said, ignoring her look and sitting forward in my seat. "I think there's been a bit of a misunderstanding. I wanted to find out more information. I found your app and was curious if your service might be a fit for what I'm looking for."

  "Miss Beauchene, the only thing we provide are husbands. If you are looking for anything else, you need not apply," she said curtly.

  How could anyone be that bitchy?

  "Okay, then. Suppose I did want a husband, how does the process work?"

  "You fill out an application and undergo various medical and psychological tests. Based on your application, and your test results, we may approve you. If you are approved, we match you with a male."

  "An alien, you mean," I said. I needed everything spelled out.

  "Miss Beauchene, please." I sat back to distance myself from the lightning bolts shooting from her eyes. "How are you not an alien to him? We do not tolerate bigotry here at TerraMates and will not approve anyone who displays such tendencies."

  I raised both hands. "Hang on a minute. I'm not prejudiced, and as I recall, I didn't say anything derogatory about aliens. I'm trying to keep things straight in my mind. I want to make sure I understand what I'm getting into if I choose to apply to become a bride, Mrs. Lynch. Don't get your knickers in a knot."

  "Miss Beauchene, we do not use such vulgar language here. You are already failing the interview portion of the evaluation."

  "If I didn't apply yet, how can you start evaluating me?" I asked. My face was becoming hot. This wasn't fair.

  "In my experience, Miss Beauchene, whether the woman knows it or not, by the time she arrives at our office, she has already made a decision about entering into an arranged marriage."

  I stared at her, my swagger deflating.

  "Those who are truly on the fence stay at home and remain on the fence. They don't come to our offices for more information."

  I had the feeling if she knew what air quotes were, she would have put them around the words 'more information'.

  I sat back and crossed my legs. If this was an interview, I had a few questions myself. "If I'm not passing, what am I doing wrong? What do the girls who pass do instead?"

  She folded her hands together in her lap.

  "You have an attitude problem, Miss Beauchene, and too much irreverence. You appear independent, which isn't necessarily a desirable quality. To be frank, you're not very pretty. Physical beauty is not a must-have, but it certainly helps."

  I sat back in shock. No one had ever told me I was unattractive to my face. I thought about my appearance. I was wearing glasses, and my hair was in a messy braid behind my head. Wild strands of hair were escaping and rioting around my face. I hadn't put on any make-up, and I probably had bags under my eyes from last night.

  It was my day off. I was going to pick up some groceries for dinner when I happened to pass by the TerraMates office and thought I would pop in and get a brochure. I wasn't looking particularly glamorous today, but I had always thought I was mildly pretty in a girl-next-door sort of way. Not beautiful by any stretch of the imagination, but easy on the eyes.

  What did this woman know anyway?

  The receptionist didn't give me a pamphlet. She led me into Mrs. Lynch's office and asked me to wait. Apparently the interview started as soon as Mrs. Lynch walked through the door.

  "I'm not saying you shouldn't apply. We have assisted many potential brides similar to you who have been satisfied with their alien husband."

  "Happy?" I repeated distantly. I wasn't listening to her. I couldn't get over the fact that I wasn't pretty enough to be a mail-order bride. Surely, an alien who used such a service couldn't afford to be choosy. If they wanted to be picky, they could go and find a three-eyed wife of their own.

  "Yes, we have a high rate of..."

  "Divorce?" I finished for her. I was confident that was what she was going to say.

  "No," she said, giving me a steely glance. "We have a very low divorce rate, which you would know if you did any research on our company. Very few of our women request a divorce when they complete the required year."

  "I don't believe it," I said, folding my arms over my chest.

  "You don't have to believe something for it to be true," she said, opening a drawer in her desk and taking out a tablet. "What I was going to say was that we have a very high rate of satisfaction among our women. Please fill this in."

  "How do you know I want to apply?" I said. "Especially after what you said about me?"

  She looked at me for a moment. A tiny smile appeared on her withered face and she looked amused. I wondered what her story was. How had she become such an unpleasant person? The smile disappeared quickly, but I wouldn't forget it.

  I didn't think a person like Mrs. Lynch knew how to smile.

  "How do I know you want to apply?" She studied me closely. "Because you didn't walk out when I said you were ugly, my dear."

  She pushed the tablet across the desk towards me and stood up.

  "After you complete the forms, come down the hall. We have a nurse on staff that will perform your medical examination. There's one more thing."

  "Yes?" I said blankly.

  "You didn't ask, but your compensation is five hundred thousand credits. I suggest you don't do it for the money. That sort of thing never works out."

  I stared at the door long after it had closed. Eventually, I gazed at the tablet. I reached out and turned it on, watching my hands move by themselves.

  Everything about TerraMates was crazy. But 500,000 credits would pay for everything. Still, being a mail-order bride felt like prostitution no matter what the contract said. I knew I should get up and walk out the door right now. I wasn't really going to do this, was I?

  But a tiny part of me knew that I was. I was sick of this life. I was sick of never getting anywhere. And I was sick
to death of wishing and hoping for my dreams to come true and never seeing them happen.

  I wasn't going to wish and hope any longer. I was going to make my dream of becoming a teacher a reality. And it was only going to take a year.

  No doubt it would be an eventful year, but maybe that was a good thing. I had never left my hometown. I worked six days a week. I was tired. And I felt old, like I had never lived.

  This was going to be an adventure and the beginning of a different life.

  That's when I knew I had already made the decision. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the thought.

  I was getting married.

  Chapter Two

  JESSE

  "Father, I have no desire to get married." The fire on the hearth crackled in the background of our conversation.

  "Then you have no desire to take over the farm."

  "There must be another way to satisfy the requirements."

  "There is no way but marriage. The law explicitly states you must have a wife to inherit while I am alive, and with good reason. You cannot expect to raise and train a herd of hundinlark without assistance."

  "The help could be anyone. I could hire a worker."

  "You know hundinlark require a very sensitive touch, and they respond better to women. You can't have a bunch of men caring for your herd. I'm sorry, son, but they'll be better if a woman raises them."

  "Why can't I hire women to work for me?"

  "You know they won't do that, and none would work for you even if they would work for someone else."

  "You're being ridiculous."

  "That's not what years of tradition say."

  "I don't mean it's ridiculous that hundinlark respond better to women. I mean the rest of it."

  I stood up and paced while my father sat calmly in his chair by the fire. The house had been part of our family for generations — since The Before Times.

  "It doesn't matter what you want. You cannot inherit the farm unless you have a wife. Period. End of story, son. Why are you suddenly upset now? It has always been this way."