She scrolled back up to his image, trying to discern why a striking man such as him needed a matchmaking service. The photo told her nothing. Rereading the bio told her nothing more than he lived on a remote planet, ran a bed and breakfast, and wanted a family.
Isn’t that what she wanted? A family with a responsible partner? She could picture an idyllic life in a B&B, chatting with guests, and chasing after the little ones.
That sounded good, actually.
She went back to the photo. He had a charming smile and Georgia felt the desire to get to know him better, but Celestial Mates wasn’t a dating app. There was no casual dating or even a get-to-know-you. She had to make a serious commitment, a leap of faith.
The smart thing to do would be to delete the message and forget the beautiful alien man with a charming smile.
The rain showed no signs of letting up. She should get home now before traffic turned into a nightmare. It rained sparingly in Southern California but when it did, the city came to halt. She rushed out, oblivious to the rain. It drenched her with a cold that settled into her bones. Once in the car, she shivered and rubbed her hands together until the heater finally warmed the space.
Her options were running out and she didn’t know how much longer she could abuse Freema’s hospitality. Going off to marry a stranger on the far side of the galaxy seemed like overkill but, honestly, why not? Her evil ex would continue to torpedo her job prospects. Her bank account had hunger pains it was so empty.
But Freema…
Georgia had no family to speak of, but she had an amazing and supportive friend. Then again, Freema had always talked about going to an off-world colony after she finished her residency. A lot of colonial governments paid bonuses for skilled professionals to emigrate, especially doctors.
All that was a year away, but Georgia didn’t think Freema would change her mind. She talked about it too often.
Her gut said to take a chance on the Celestial Mates match, her perfect match, but her gut also thought moving in with her boyfriend and taking a job at his company was a grand idea. She couldn’t trust her gut.
Back at the apartment, she made a lasagna from scratch and waited for Freema to come home.
“Something smells amazing,” her friend said, dropping her rain-soaked coat at the door.
Georgia went to the kitchen and served up two helpings. She must not have looked the part of a happy homemaker because Freema laid a hand on her wrist. “What’s wrong? Is it the job hunt? Don’t worry. You can stay here as long as you need, roomie. Especially if you keep making me lasagna,” Freema said.
“I need to pick your brain.”
“Well, that sounds ominous.”
Georgia pulled out her phone. She explained the message from the agency and all the reasons to take a chance.
“This is him?” Freema grabbed the phone and examined Tranquility’s photo. “He’s almost too pretty.”
“I know, right? I keep wondering what the catch is.”
Freema stared at the photo. “Too lazy to date or too busy. I say go for it.”
“For a guy who’s too lazy or too busy to date?”
“He wants a family and he’s upfront about it. Besides, if it doesn't work, get a divorce and come live with me.”
“But you won’t be here by then,” Georgia said. Corra was far away, like a six-month journey away. By the time she got there, Freema would already have her bags packed. Her residency ended in eight months and she’d been shopping around offers for placement on a colony. A decade practicing medicine on a colony meant total debt forgiveness. Freema had been talking about that plan for years, since their freshman year of college.
“So come with me,” Freema said with a shrug. “You can be my office manager.”
Georgia looked at Tranquility’s photo again, willing it to whisper all his secrets and tell her what to do. “I’ve never had such a difficult time making a decision.”
“It’s a big one.”
“I want to say yes. I feel like I need a fresh start, but I’m scared.”
“You’d be silly not to be a little scared,” Freema agreed.
She took a deep breath. She wanted a family but even if the worst happened and she lost her fertility to cancer, there was adoption. Her kids didn’t have to have her DNA; she’d love them with her whole heart. Could she love Tranquility? Celestial Mates thought so.
Saying yes was a risk but it felt like the right move. Plus, she had a backup plan. If the match didn’t work out, she’d go to Freema.
“Any idea where you’re headed?” she asked Freema.
“I got a few offers, but I haven’t agreed to anything yet.” Freema finished the last of her lasagna and reached for Georgia’s hand. “It’s going to work out. I have a good feeling about this.”
“Okay,” she said, all the breath leaving her body in a rush. “Okay. I want to do it.”
* * *
Talen
* * *
Welcome to your new home on Corra!
Our beautiful homeworld offers limitless opportunities for the industrious immigrant.
- Corra Immigration Affairs
* * *
The property did not appear more attractive in person. The honey stones glowed in the morning light, which was about the only appealing feature Talen could find. When he looked at the sprawling house—more a manor, really—the inevitable and enormous heating bill, the roof in desperate need of repair, and a hundred fucking broken windows, crowded his imagination.
Quil bounded across the lawn in long strides, toward the tumbledown building, bubbling over with excitement.
In the three weeks since winning the property from Lerrence, they kept a low profile in the Terminal. Quil only played fair at cards, no hustling, Charl took the time to install necessary upgrades to the ship, and Talen splurged and booked a room for Bright. As much as he hated to admit it, Quil had been correct. Climbing up and down the ladder in the ship was too much for Bright’s aging hips and knees. If they were stuck at the station for weeks, she should at least be able to go out and enjoy all the station offered, rather than be confined to the ship.
Her silvery hair caught the morning sunlight and Talen hadn’t noticed how gray she had become. In his mind, she still towered over him with infinite strength and even more patience. Had she always been so small and slender? When had the warm amber of her complexion and hair faded to gray?
She hobbled, the arthritis in her hips and knees hindering movement. Talen held out an arm to her as they traversed the uneven ground. Bright was the first name he ever spoke and her presence formed his earlier memories. He had only a vague impression of his parents. When he thought of his mother, he thought of Bright. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her if she asked.
How long had the climbing the ladder in the ship been painful for her? She fell six months back and badly bruised her knees and hips. Luckily, she suffered no fractures. Even as Talen carried her up and down as needed, she never complained about the unfriendly accessibility of the ship. That fall had to have been the genesis of Quil’s scheme.
Quil had been correct to say that living planetside would be easier for her and it rankled him that Quil saw it first. Talen had never been one to anticipate the needs or wants of another. He was more the type who, once he had been steered toward a problem, threw himself at it with a single-minded focus until he fixed the issue, be it a faulty engine, a face that needed to be punched, or a sprawling house with broken windows.
Damn Quil.
The inside of the house proved the building to be in better condition than Talen feared. The house had not been abruptly abandoned, but closed, as if the original owners planned to return. Heavy canvas tarps protected furniture from dust and falling plaster. Water damage, vermin, and simple age damaged the majority of furnishings in the house, but he felt some could be salvaged. Delicate porcelain dishes sat stacked in cupboards, coated with a thick layer of grime but in otherwise perfect condition.
Portions of the floor buckled from water damage, but those boards could be replaced. The subflooring felt solid. He inspected the floor joists in the lower levels and found them to be sound.
Quil rushed them through the house, throwing open the doors to reveal room after room filled with moldering old furniture. Leaves, dirt, and other debris scattered across the floor. Animals had nested in a few closets, leaving behind bones and other filth.
The sound of claws in the walls drew Talen back. He assumed it was vermin but it could be mornclaws. The aggressive pests arrived on Corra—no one knew how but speculated that a clutch of eggs arrived with a cargo vessel—and devastated the Corravian environment. They had no natural predators, bred quickly, ate almost any animal, and slaughtered huge portions of the population.
No. Those did not nest in houses. They buried their eggs in grassy fields, the more vegetation the better.
“Vermin. The place requires an exterminator,” Talen said, wondering how much of the dirt on the floor was scat and if he could slip on gloves and a mask without his brother mocking him. Let Quil laugh. He had never been bitten and suffered rat-bite fever or had to recuperate in an understaffed and overcrowded naval hospital.
“We’ll get a wuap. They make good hunters,” Quil said.
The house had enough room for them all, more than enough. They could each have their own suite of rooms and still be able to comfortably put up a dozen guests and a herd of vermin-hunting wuaps. Talen had no idea why they needed so much space. He had lived the last decade of his life with all his possessions fitting into a duffel bag. What would he do with a suite of rooms? All he required was a bed and a footlocker.
Quil’s excitement grew as they ventured further into the house, but the repair costs kept racking up higher and higher in Talen’s mind.
“It’s not perfect, I know, but can’t you see the potential?” Quil said, standing in what had once been a library
Windows lined the far wall. Unfortunately, storm damage had broken half the windows. The library overlooked what had once been a charming garden but was now little more than an overgrown wilderness. Uncontrolled vines, heavy with perfume, pressed right against the glass and broke through into the room in several places. Sunlight filtered through the greenery, flooding the space with a soft light.
The room hurt Talen’s soul. Soggy books sat on the shelves, swollen and smelling of mold. A few books had obviously been chewed on by vermin. He couldn’t imagine that the remaining books were rare or valuable. The library had obviously built by someone who loved books and Talen wanted to believe that they took the most precious books with them when they abandoned the property. Still, most books were digital and physical copies grew scarce. How could they just leave all those books to rot?
The stairs to the upper level of the library looked like they would crumble to dust with the slightest bit of weight. Talen squinted, trying to see into the shadows of the upper level. Shelving lined the walls and he could see the binding of several books.
He needed to save the books that could be salvaged. The rank stink of the room made him sneeze but he could never forget the scent. It would haunt him.
Damn Quil for knowing exactly how to manipulate him.
Mentally, he already segregated the books into various categories: acceptable, damaged but salvageable, and those without hope of saving. Yeah, Quil knew all his buttons.
The outdated kitchen was fully furnished. Charl pulled out a set of tools—from where, Talen had no idea—and got the stove in working order.
Finally, they entered what had been the conservatory and Talen understood. Barely visible, black and white tiles peeked out from under the layer of dirt that carpeted the room. Half of the glass panes had been broken, exposing the room to the elements, and the surviving plant grew in a riot of greenery. A thick vine twined around the exposed skeleton of the windowpanes, up and over like a canopy, and exploded in pale violet blossoms. The floral scent overpowered the space, mixing with the pungent aroma of soil and decaying leaves.
Quil ignored the show stopping blossoms and fell to his knees in front of a low growing plant with broad silvery-green leaves. “Oh, look at you lovelies—”
“You planned this whole thing,” Talen said. They had targeted Lerrence, not out of a sense to right a wrong or even to liberate some credit from the arrogant man, and practically stole the man’s property because Quil wanted a plant.
“The moon violet, still thriving. You’re gorgeous. Yes, you are,” Quil said to the plant, reverently stroking the leaves.
“I wish someone would look at me the way he’s looking at that plant,” Charl said, sharing a sentiment disturbingly close to Talen’s own thoughts.
Bright found a stone bench, brushing off the surface before lowering herself with a sigh. The light pooled at her feet and the air warmed with the sun overhead. “How much work is it to get this place habitable?” she asked.
“It’s habitable now,” Quil said, rising to his feet.
“If you don’t mind a lack of heat and running water,” Charl said. “I suppose we could live on the ship until I got the basics working. The roof seems solid enough, but we might have some surprises the next time it storms. Let me take another look at the boiler in the basement.”
Talen grabbed Quil by the elbow and pulled the male to the side. “All this for a plant?”
His brother yanked his arm away. “Not just any plant, the moon violet. Very rare and only found in a handful of locations.”
“And here.”
“Yes! Aren’t they beautiful? They blossom under the moonlight, you know. The soil has to be just right. The fact that they’ve survive here, abandoned, is miraculous. This house is a miracle.”
“This house is a money pit,” Talen said.
“This house is our future.”
Talen disagreed strongly but Quil kept talking. “I know we’ll sink most of our money into repairs.”
“Our inheritance.” The compensation they received from a second cousin for their parent’s stolen estate and bank accounts. The brothers went missing after their parent’s assassination and were presumed dead. After a decade, they had been legally declared dead and a cousin inherited what should have been Quil’s. Talen didn’t particularly miss having a house and land, or a title, but he knew it bothered Quil, who had always loved the gardens.
Had the political climate allowed for Quil to inherit, rather than be smuggled off-planet to save his life, he would have made a fine lord of the manor.
Of course, the brothers weren’t dead, and the cousin’s lawyers found them in due course. The brother received a payout for signing an agreement to never return to Talmar and never use their birth names. Some males might be disturbed by turning their backs on their heritage, but it was all ancient history to Talen. The planet of his birth had treated his family cruelly and he felt no great love for Talmar.
“Yes, and half that money is mine. I let you buy the ship,” Quil said. “We’ll do what we need to get this place presentable, then offer rooms as a bed and breakfast. We won’t be able to restore all the rooms at first, so we’ll have to do it as we go. Did you know there’s a hot spring somewhere on the grounds? Guests will like that.”
“Wait, a bed and breakfast? You’re joking.” Not once, in all the years, had his brother ever expressed an interest in playing host. Gambler and gardener, yes, but not a host at a B&B. “You don’t have the temperament for it,” Talen said.
“You don’t.” Quil rested a hand on his chest and said with all sincerity, “I am charming as fuck.”
Talen huffed, unmoved by his brother’s dramatics.
Quil continued, “But I know what you’re saying. I’m going to be too busy in here. I think it’s too late to plant for the spring, but I’d like to see what the
grounds look like in the summer, anyway, before I plant.”
“You’re not listening to me at all.” Frustration edged into his voice.
“No, you’re not listening to me,” Quil said, finally turning his full attention to Talen. “I want this. When you came back from the Navy, you weren’t yourself.”
“I was—”
“I know, I know, and I don’t blame you. The only thing that made you seem half-alive was leaving port. Always had to be moving, could never let the ground grow cold under your feet, so I went with that. We made a tidy profit, had a few laughs, and that was good enough for a time.”
“Half-alive? Was I that bad off?” Talen knew his behavior after being discharged had not been optimal, but he thought he was better off than half-alive. It was just… he couldn’t pin it down, exactly. The universe was vast and he wanted to see as much as possible. Staying in one place made him restless. Anxious. If too much time passed, he found himself looking over his shoulder, which was unfounded and paranoid, adding to his frustration. Better to move on and not think too hard on it.
“So, we did your thing, and it had some fun, but I’m tired. I told you the truth about that, and Bright is getting older,” Quil said.
“I know.” He noticed how she climbed the stairs slowly and needed to rest frequently. “But you think this big house is the solution to that? She’ll wear herself ragged trying to run the house.”
“Then we’ll hire help. A place this size needs staff.”
“And Charl? You plan to give him a recommendation and drop him off at the next port?”
“He’s family and welcome to stay. This place has more than enough projects to keep the cranky bastard entertained.”
“You want to demote our engineer to a handyman?”
“Estate manager, then. It’s a promotion. What do you think?” Quil spread his arms wide and grinned, surrounded by the chaotic greenery of the conservatory. His tail swayed from side to side, pleased with himself.
Bright enjoyed the sunshine and the flowers. Charl was having the time of his life grubbing around, inspecting the inner workings of the house. Talen had lost the fight. This ridiculous scheme proved good for his family.
Pulled by the Tail: Celestial Mates Page 4