Raelor

by Terra Wolf

  “You're going to have to put some clothes on. We don't walk around without our shirts here in America.”

  She watched as he looked down at his body.

  “My strong body offends you?”

  Marci could hardly contain her blush. Of course it didn't offend her; Raelor was ridiculously good-looking. It just wasn't the way things were done, and part of her also had deep jealousy that she didn't want other women to see Raelor without a shirt on. That was something that was only reserved for her, his host. Behind the closed doors of her apartment. It wasn't for the world to see.

  “No, it's not that, we just don't do that here. We wear clothes all the time, it's our culture. Shouldn’t you learn more about that?”

  He nodded slowly, placing a box of cereal back into the cabinet. “Yes, I should. But now we know I also have a mission, and part of that mission is that you and I look like a believable couple at this gala. So I think I should be involved in choosing your attire. Also if you insist that my attire is inappropriate, I will change, and perhaps I should also purchase something at this mall that you speak of. Something more suitable to wear so I fit in with your culture. Does that sound good to you?”

  Marci was stunned. Raelor really did want to fit in after all.

  “How much of this is because of your father's mission? And how much of this is because you actually want to get to know me? Because it certainly sounds to me like after your mission is completed, you won't be returning home. You still have to stay here for the length of the program. And then I guess it's up to us.”

  Raelor raised an eyebrow at her. “Up to us? What do you mean?”

  Marci could feel the redness once again creeping up on her cheeks. It was time to tell Raelor the truth. “I didn't choose this.”

  Raelor rolled his eyes, bright yellow slipping underneath his eyelids. “Neither did I. But here we are. And this is my duty.” He took a step closer to her. “I want to keep you safe. You're my host, and I will take care of you as well. Even though sometimes I feel like I don't even understand you or my mission myself.”

  That was exactly how Marci was feeling. Like somehow, she still had feelings for this behemoth of a man standing in front of her, even though she hardly knew him. Was this all the lust of just meeting someone, or was there something more to it? She had to find out.

  “No, I didn't sign up for the program. My therapist did it for me. I just meant that I literally didn't sign up for this and I feel terrible about it. It's not your fault that you are stuck with me. And now you have this big mission to do and who am I? Just some girl. I am absolutely nobody exciting. You're the son of a high commander? Things like this, between people like you and I, they just don't work out. This isn’t a fairytale.”

  Raelor cocked his head. “A fairytale? What is a fairytale?”

  Of course he wouldn't know what that was. Stupid silly alien customs. She sighed heavily. “A fairytale is like a dream. It's make-believe. Like when two people meet under circumstances like ours and they fall in love.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “You mean like mates. So your therapist signed you up with the Celestial Mates program. And you disagree with her assessment that you needed to join?”

  Marci shot him a dirty look. He was so honest all the time, and she was annoyed that he was right. “I guess. I certainly wasn't expecting it. I wasn't expecting you or any of this.”

  He moved toward her, placing his giant hands on her shoulders. “But here we are. Can you not admit that my presence here has changed something in you? This means you feel something that you hadn't felt before? Because as much as I disagreed with my father about being sent here, I know that I have felt the change inside of me. Friends of mine have talked about finding their mates, about how it shook them to the core, and I laughed at them. I thought that they were crazy that they left the Galactic Alliance for some silly made up dream. For a fairytale.”

  He moved another step closer so that her back was pressed up against the cabinets, and she could feel the heaviness of his breathing. Something was about to happen, she just knew it.

  “But now I know that they were right. Don't you feel that way too? I’m not saying we’re mates, but you’re a pretty woman, and I am a warrior. Things might happen.”

  Holy shit. Things might happen? Her mouth dropped open. This was the time to say something. This was the time to speak up about how she felt. She didn't have any words. People had never called her quiet, so she assumed for the first time in her life she was speechless. That must have been it. But the words didn’t escape her mouth, and she stood there waiting for his next move, hoping that it would be something so profound that it would shake her out of her silence. But nothing happened. She missed her moment as he pulled away. Was he hurt? Probably. She was such a dumbass.

  “I'll come with you to get your dress. Or whatever it is the humans wear to these events. I'll find something to wear as well, something more suitable that you approve of.”

  He backed away from her and turned to walk toward his hammock in the living room. She watched him reach into his bag and pull out a shirt. He put it on over his rippling muscles and she continued to stand there, dumbfounded. What the hell was wrong with her? This was her moment. And she ignored it. Fear paralyzed her. He just admitted that he was here for the long haul, that he would stay after his mission was completed, and yet she didn't react. She didn't tell him how she felt that moment when he was naked in the hallway, or even the moment that she met him. She shook her head and let it go.

  “Are you ready?” Raelor asked her as he popped his head around the corner of the tiny kitchen. He didn’t even looked fazed by her lack of reaction. Great, what a missed opportunity this was.

  “Yeah. Let's go to the mall.”

  “Does the mall have food? Any more sustenance than those crispy wafers that are inside the box? What is cereal, anyway?”

  Marci rolled her eyes as she laughed at him. They could get through this, just one step at a time. No need to sprint. Even if he wanted to.

  Chapter 11

  Raelor

  Raelor followed Marci around the mall as if he were a lost puppy. He suddenly understood the meaning of the phrase. Sights and sounds and smells surrounded him, and nothing looked familiar. He had traveled throughout the seven galaxies, he had met thousands of different species of aliens, and he had been around humans more than any other species. But here he was lost, and everything was new to him.

  Including the sashaying hips in front of him.

  He couldn't deny the feelings that were brewing inside of him for this crazy woman. He was happy that he had told Marci how he felt, but disheartened that she hadn't responded positively. If she truly was meant to be his mate, why weren't they embracing as his other former brothers in arms had done with their mates? Why was she so different?

  He knew what part of it was. She had grown up on Earth, and none of the other women he had ever encountered had. She was snarky and had a sassy attitude that he was still adjusting to, but he liked it. It made him feel slightly less in control of his destiny and for a moment, he was fine with that. However, he was so lost in his thoughts, taking in the environment around him, that he didn't notice Marci stopped and he ran right into her.

  “Sorry. I wasn't watching.”

  She turned around and smiled at him warmly. “It's fine. This is the food court, so you can eat something here from pretty much all seven continents. As long as you're okay with it being dipped in grease. It's not really the healthiest food. And I know how you feel about your figure.”

  “Is that a jab at my going running every day?”

  She shook her head at him. “It's a jab at you that you wake me up every day at 5 o'clock in the morning to go for your run. Some of us have to work, you know.”

  He nodded at her. “Point taken. I will wait to begin my morning activities until after I'm sure you're awake. Does that suit you better?”

  He was being so nice to her, nicer than he had ever been t
o anyone. This wasn’t like him. But he knew that she deserved some of his respect as she was his hostess. Not to mention that her beauty had overtaken his feelings, and now he was just trying to impress her.

  “That would be super helpful! Now what do you like to eat? Lunch is on me.”

  Raelor looked around what Marci had called the food court. There were small shops tucked away into the wall with counters in front of them, with people of every nationality behind them serving food. Many were calling out to passersby, offering free samples.

  His eyes settled on what looked like a sandwich shop. Sandwiches weren’t new to him; they made them on the ship all the time. Something easy to eat if they were busy up on the deck. He missed the Galactic Alliance and his friends that he had met there, and he missed piloting a ship. Maybe a sandwich would remind him of home.

  He pointed directly behind Marci, “Sandwiches? Do you like those?”

  “That's a good place, but I'm feeling Chinese. But the best part about this is that you can get that and I can get Chinese and we can both be happy. It’s the best of both worlds. You'll see what I mean.”

  She took him by the hand and yanked him across the food court. Bright lights shone down on them, cheap flooring under his feet. The place certainly wasn't very impressive, but after they ordered their food and sat down, Raelor was surprised at how tasty the sandwich was.

  “This is almost as good as we have on the ship. And what did you say this meat was?”

  “Salami. I thought you might like it. So why don’t you tell me more about the ship? I mean, I know some stuff about your family, but it doesn't sound like you see them very much.”

  Marci sipped on her cola with her bright blue eyes, anxiously awaiting his response.

  “I joined the Galactic Alliance some number of years ago. My father and I, you're right, don't really see eye to eye. It was better for me to not be on my home planet. Besides, I was an expert pilot and a strong warrior, so the Galactic Alliance could use my skills to their benefit.”

  “So you've been on missions and stuff?”

  She was always so eager, it was endearing. “Yes. Most of which are classified and I can't discuss.” He watched as she stopped sipping, and her face looked dejected. “But I can tell you about the aid that we've done. I've assisted in delivering aid to over twenty different planets. I've met species from hundreds of different origins and I really like to run.”

  She laughed, “What is it with you and running?”

  Raelor set his sandwich down and looked around the room again. No one was paying any attention to them; people were laughing at the table to their left, and another couple was holding hands on the right. As much as they were surrounded by other human beings, they were in a private moment. He suddenly felt like he could tell her everything about himself. Even things that had stayed buried for years.

  “In my youth, I was very angry. I had a lot of harsh feelings about my father and some of his dealings in the seven galaxies. But I used to run to get away. It was my time to collect my thoughts and make my body and mind stronger. Impenetrable to the enemy, no matter who they were or what they meant to me. And then it became very ritualistic; if I wasn't running, I was noticing my temper rise again. I didn't want to be that person anymore. Do you ever feel like that?”

  Marci shook her head, “Not really. But that doesn't mean that you're not allowed to feel like that. When I'm upset, I drink wine and I eat. I guess everyone has their vices.”

  Raelor picked up his sandwich again. “I'm okay with eating. But the wine is something you'll still have to introduce me to.”

  Marci smiled at him broadly. “That is, if I’m willing to share. Maybe we could stop somewhere on the way home and I'll buy you your own bottle of wine. Or we can just wait until the gala.” She paused, her face scrunched up with thought. Raelor had to admit it was adorable. “Well, wine has the tendency to make you feel less inhibited, so it’s maybe not the best idea for a mission.”

  “Maybe not the best. But perhaps after being successful in our mission, then we could celebrate and let go of our inhibitions together.” He was trying to get her to make a move, to respond to his claim from earlier. Hopefully it worked. He watched with interest as the red filled her cheeks. He liked making her blush; it gave him some sort of odd sense of pride.

  “Maybe. We should get going; finish up that sandwich so I can go find a dress. And we have to find you a suit.”

  “I was thinking about that. Do you think my uniform would suffice?”

  Marci shook her head. “No, I don't think so. I think the point is that you're supposed to seem more human, or at least appear that you're attempting to learn our culture, remember? Wearing a suit shows you’re making an effort. And you’ll blend in more. I mean, if they even make them in your size. Besides, you’ll look good.”

  He noticed how she phrased the last part of her sentence. He wanted to look good for her. “Will I? Look good?”

  He watched as she chewed on her lower lip for a moment before answering. “Yes, I'm sure you will look good.”

  They finished their meal and he once again began to follow her as she wove in and out of shops, pulling dresses off racks and then deciding not to try them on. Finally, she grabbed a dark navy gown which had a plunging neckline and an open back.

  “What do you think of this one?”

  Raelor tried to imagine her in it and realized that his mouth was hanging open. “Try it on. We want to make sure it fits.”

  He watched as Marci dragged herself back to the changing rooms; he could get the sense that she didn't enjoy shopping as much as she had made it seem.

  He stood dutifully by as he watched her pull the curtain across the tiny dressing room, and he listened as she struggled, often audibly, to get into the gown.

  “Do you need help?”

  Finally, he heard a sigh of frustration, and she emerged with her back toward him.

  “Can you zipper this? My little arms can't reach!”

  He tried to stifle a laugh. But as his fingers brushed against her skin and he pulled up the clasps to the zipper, he realized he'd much rather have been taking the dress off than putting it on her.

  His hand lingered for a moment, feeling her flesh against his. This woman made him feel things he wasn’t accustomed to. He didn't need wine; this woman made him feel uninhibited all the time.

  Finally, she pulled her hair to the side and turned around, the dark contrast of the navy fabric against her alabaster skin breathtaking.

  “It's beautiful.”

  She admired herself in the mirror, turning this way and that. “You think? It's not too tight?”

  Raelor couldn’t even wrap his head around fabric being too tight on Marci's body. “Definitely not. Every man at the gala will be jealous that you're on my arm.”

  “Well, if you say so. It's a week’s worth of wages so it better be worth it.”

  “It's worth that, I promise.”

  “Well then, done. I'll get out of this and pay and we’ll find you a suit.” She began to pull the curtain back across, and Raelor was wishing that she hadn't. He stood next to the room for a moment more as an inch of the fabric stayed open, and he watched as she continued to admire herself. She should, she looked incredible. He only hoped that a suit would make him look good enough to do her justice.

  Chapter 12

  Marci

  Marci held her breath as Raelor’s hand enclosed her own. Her eyes shifted to Raelor and she took in his suited figure again. Damn he looked good. She had slipped into the navy gown and placed her hair at the nape of her neck. It had taken her over an hour to get ready but it had been worth it. She looked kickass, and she knew it.

  “So what do we do?”

  “We watch,” Raelor said as he tucked her arm into his and entered the ballroom. They showed their invitation at the door and had left their coats in a large coat closet near the entrance.

  Classical music played from the string quartet on a small stage i
n the center of the dance floor. People moved around as if the music was flowing through them, it was some magical movement that Marci couldn’t even understand. Hell, Marci had never seen anything so civilized. This was the kind of thing that she watched on TV on a Friday night drowning her sorrows in a bottle of wine with an adult onesie on when it was only six in the evening. This was a sight from movies, no way it was her real life. As Raelor guided her over the white marble floor she looked out into the throng of people to see both humans and aliens from all over the seven galaxies. As a waiter passed by them, Raelor grabbed them each a glass of champagne. He parted from her and then gave one to her. She continued to discreetly survey the crowd while sipping the champagne. His father had never sent a picture so she wasn’t even sure what she was looking for. Someone who seemed out of place? However, that could easily describe her.

  Quickly she noticed a couple of women her age standing by the dessert table looking annoyed and disgusted. She watched them for a moment and then realized why. Three small aliens approached them, with yellowing skin and large gray eyes. There were clearly admiring the girls in front of them but they were gross looking. She definitely lucked out when she been matched with Raelor. Except for the whole partners in crime, ninja, alien, kicking ass portion. She still had no idea how that was going to go down. Yet here they were making an attempt at being do-gooders together, but at least he didn't smell the way those little creatures looked. She could only imagine sharing her tiny one-bedroom apartment with one of them.

  She had never won anything in her life. How had she gotten so lucky in getting Raelor as a match? She thought about her now total lack of relationship with her ex therapist. Sure she totally invaded her privacy and stepped over her boundaries. But maybe one day she would buy her a pizza on Valentine’s Day to apologize. Maybe. Not this Valentine’s Day though. Too soon.