Nice butt, though.
“No. You’re a jerk face and I’m dying here.” He laughed. Actually laughed at her dying from exercise.
“The medic said that you have to reduce your caffeine intake or exercise moderately. This was your choice,” he said.
Van gasped. “Coffee is life. How could you even suggest such a thing?”
He pointed down the corridor. “We are nearly at our destination. I will have a reward waiting for you.”
Then her cruel tormentor ran off, which she didn’t mind because those pants really showcased his assets.
“I could be sleeping, but no, we have to do this!” she shouted to his retreating figure. Snacks happily chased him, the traitor.
This was the worst. The absolute worst punishment she could imagine except starting her day without a cup of black and sinfully sweet coffee. The medic expressed concern about her caffeine intake, called it a dependency, and suddenly Jaxar was all about heart-healthy meals and omega fatty whatnots.
It was kind of sweet the way he fussed over her, but she’d never admit it.
Van chugged along at a brisk walk, periodically breaking into a jog, all the while telling herself that it would get easier. The first day was always the worst. Going for a run with her husband and space ferret-dog was bonding and so much more interesting than running on a treadmill. As for running laps around the training rooms, no thank you. Van wanted to keep the audience to a minimum.
Nearly there. Her calves burned in a good way and the endorphins must have finally hit her brain because she felt sort of good. Dying—obviously—but also relaxed. No doubt she’d ache tomorrow.
Rounding a corner, she arrived at the Night Garden. Panting, she bent forward and rested her hands on her knees.
“I’m very proud of you,” Jaxar said, handing her a water cube. She popped it in her mouth and choked it down, knowing she needed to rehydrate. He nuzzled her brow, right where her sweaty hair plastered against her forehead. “And your ass looks amazing.”
“Gross. Stop objectifying me,” she said with mock outrage, pushing him away. She did not feel her most attractive, sweaty and struggling to catch her breath, but his eyes swept over her like she was the best thing ever.
Snacks had to be part of the action and wiggled her way between them, her tail battering Van’s shins and her cold nose pressing against any patch of skin she could find.
“Oh, good girl. You can objectify me all you want, Snack-a-doodle,” Van said, dropping to her knees. Snacks bounced, her body giving that strange undulation in the middle. She ran off and returned with a much-loved, much-chewed ball.
Van tossed the ball into a darker corner of the garden and Snacks took off like a rocket.
“We should stretch to reduce muscle soreness, then consume a small portion of protein and fats,” Jaxar said.
“You make it sound so romantic.”
He led her deeper into the garden, where bubbling water splashed over rocks. A basket sat on the green lawn, along with a towel and a fresh set of clothes.
“You got the fountain working!” Van hustled over to the water’s edge. Round and sculpted to look like a natural rock formation, the fountain blended into the garden. The top tier cascaded down into a lower pool, filling the space with a soothing noise.
Once filled with debris, Van initially believed the fountain to be a raised container or plant bed. Only after mucking out the layers of old leaves, sediment and slime, did she realize it was a fountain. Long cut off from the water mane, the plumbing needed to be replaced entirely, which was beyond her paygrade. “Is this my reward?”
“No, this is. Hot chocolate made from a plant-based milk and enriched with protein.” He pressed a silver travel container into her hands. Steam curled up as she removed the lid, inhaling the rich aroma. “The beverage contains a quarter of the caffeine in your coffee,” he informed her.
Chocolatey and smooth, Van savored her first sip. “Oh, that’s good.” Better than a plant-based milk should taste. Possibly better than the bitter brew she loaded up with sugar, but she would never admit it. She could do this, make these changes to look after her heart. She wasn’t in danger of keeling over, but artificial gravity had a way of stressing the body and she wanted to enjoy every day of her many years with Jaxar.
“Now we stretch, which will help prevent muscle soreness,” he said.
Van groaned but mimicked him as he worked through the motions. Now that she wasn’t moving, her legs and arms felt noodly. Snacks bounced up again with her ball. Van tossed the ball between poses.
With the cooldown stretches finished, Van toweled off and changed into dry clothes. She sank down into the lawn, which was a pillowy moss, and kicked off her shoes. The moss squished between her toes. Jaxar handed her a bowl of porridge with fruits and nuts. She knew it was his breakfast of choice and she’d grown accustomed to the chewy grains.
Snack dropped her ball into the fountain’s lower tier and happily splashed after it.
“Um, have we checked the bacteria in the water?” Van asked, her spoon hovering at her mouth.
“Hillam analyzed it yesterday. The water is safe.”
Van chewed thoughtfully, soaking up the atmosphere. Hillam converted her old cabin into a lab and forbade her from returning to work in the garden until she made significant progress with her research. She suspected that he had no idea that a doctoral thesis could take years of research and writing, but she appreciated how invested he was in her education.
“Is this why he wouldn’t let me in the garden this week? He gave me some bullshit reason about the high pollen count and allergies,” she said. In all fairness, she had no idea if she’d develop allergies from the alien plants but none of the plants were toxic for humans. At worst, she’d develop a case of the sniffles.
Snacks splashed around in the pool and nosed her ball out of the water. As it rolled away, she pranced from foot to foot, making a chirring chirping noise, then sprang into action. The classic Snack Attack.
She was a good space ferret-dog, even if she was skittish around strangers. Her calm and playful temperament made her a perfect fit for life on a spaceship. The odd machine noises and voices drifting in from the corridor never seemed to bother her, until someone came to their door. Then Snacks went into hiding, usually to her pallet in the bedroom, until her curiosity got the better of her and she came slinking back. Van couldn’t blame her for being timid. Snacks learned some hard lessons early in her life, but Van was glad that patience and love helped her blossom into the best space ferret-dog ever.
Jaxar handed Van a pouch of chewy fretti treats. He knew her so well.
“Who’s a good girl?” Van called, tossing a piece to Snacks.
She scraped out the last bit of porridge in the cup and stretched back on the moss. Dense like a cushion, it was easy to forget that under the organic layer was metal and carbon, along with a surprisingly primitive filtration system using porous rock and sand. Jaxar stretched out next to her.
“This is lovely. Thank you,” she said. “For all of it.” Three months ago, the morning after meeting the family, she and Jaxar went to the Mahdfel recruitment office and she officially volunteered. The clerk did a cheek swab, ran the genetic test—they were 99.6 percent, thank you very much—and had Van sign a series of documents stating that she understood her rights and she swore that she was under no duress.
Just like that, they were married. Two months after meeting Jaxar and three years after swearing to never mess with aliens again, Van still felt a little stunned by how fast they moved from first hellos to promising forever. Still, fast for her was incredibly slow from Jaxar’s point of view.
Van liked her life aboard the Judgment. Slowly she made friends with the other mates. Most of the other women were deep into pregnancies or dealing with infants, but Van found she could feed a baby a bottle or change a diaper like a pro. The kids were always amusing but Van’s favorite part was handing the squirming bundle back to their mom. Kids we
re great, especially when they belonged to someone else.
Nakia and Rohn left two months ago to settle on Sangrin, but they remained in contact. Nakia was her legal counsel, after all.
“Take me home,” Van said. She rose to her feet and stretched, ignoring the way Jaxar watched her, practically licking his lips. He reached for her and she skipped back, smirking.
“Don’t think about it,” she warned.
Her laughter must have destroyed the effectiveness of her warning because Jaxar scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder like a bag of rice.
“Put me down!” She kicked her feet, connecting with his stomach but it felt like kicking a brick wall for all the good it did. Snacks thought it was great fun, chirring and bouncing in excitement.
He patted her on the ass and took off at a slight jog. “I’ll put you down in bed,” he promised.
She bounced on his shoulder. While her over-the-shoulder vantage offered a great view of his ass, the position made breathing a touch difficult. “I can walk.”
“I refuse to wait all day.” More jogging. More bouncing.
“Are you calling me slow? Seriously, this is uncomfortable,” she said.
He hummed a response and adjusted her in his arms until he carried her in a cradle. Much better.
In moments, he carried over the threshold into their quarters. Home.
How lucky was she?
Afterword
What kind of ending is that? What happened with Havik and Teddy and all the stolen women? How can I leave you hanging?
Don’t hate me. I consider Jaxar and Vanessa’s story to be finished. Those loose threads will lead directly into the next book. Care to guess the hero? Drumroll… Havik!
I know. I’m as surprised as you are. When I started the book, Havik was a mean-spirited jerk in my head but then he pushed his way into the story—much like he did on Van and Jaxar’s date—and upended everything I thought I knew about him. So, since I like a redemption story, I’m going to try my best to get Havik his redemption and his HEA.
Thank you for reading Jaxar and Vanessa’s story. I had a blast writing a cinnamon roll hero who covered his love interest in frosting—I know, gross, but also literally—until her grumpy butt admitted that she loved him too.
Infertility is a sensitive subject. As a woman who is infertile, I did not want to shy away from the issue but also wanted to keep a respectful tone. The choice to have or not have children is deeply personal and it can hurt physically and emotionally when our bodies take that choice away. Part of my reason for tackling this subject is my growing frustration with the way infertility is portrayed in books, film, and TV. (Looking at you, Witcher.)
There is a trope where a woman chooses between power/career or a family and, invariably, if she chooses power/career, she regrets that choice and becomes obsessed with having a baby. Infertility always feels like a punishment in these stories, especially considering how power-driven male characters never lament their low sperm count. (I’m limiting myself to the binary definitions of woman/man for simplicity’s sake, and also as a function of the trope, which is very restrictive and black and white in its thinking.)
I hate this trope. It does not reflect me or my experiences. Infertility is not a punishment. It’s just a thing my body does, like being near-sighted or having allergies. It does not define me.
My biggest gripe, though, is how narrowly this trope defines what is a “real” mother and only considers a “real” child to be one created with their body.
Fuck that noise.
Hormonal treatments, IVF, surrogacy, adoption, and fostering are beautiful choices and very real ways to make a family. Don’t you dare tell me that love is not real. (Still looking at you, Witcher. There was literally an orphan wandering in the forest for the entire season, but no. Yennefer was obsessed with growing a baby in her belly. Or how about the hundreds of street urchins starving in the background? Street urchins need homes too.)
Look, not every person who can’t make a baby the old-fashioned way is obsessed with it. I would like to see a character who was not defined by this one aspect of their body or felt they failed at life and had no meaning to their existence because they’re out of the gene pool.
Anyway, so this is me getting off my soapbox.
I very much never wanted Van to feel lesser because of her infertility. She’s angry at the way she’s been treated and fearful at being rejected and hurt, but she never considers herself broken or defective. Because I’m not broken and neither are you. I hope that message came through loud and clear.
This whole conversation is weird. I know. The entire point of the Warlord Brides universe is making alien babies and is this really the hill you want to die on, Nancey?
Yeah. I felt it was important to say that even in a universe where women are valued and traded like commodities to make babies with aliens, you still have worth and deserve love if you do not. So there. That’s my hill.
Will Jaxar and Van ever adopt down the road? Possibly. I imagine if fate threw a foundling in their path, they’d open their hearts and their home.
As always, I have people to thank. My friends Jenny and Sushma were ever so patient as I complained about my plot and my characters not doing what I planned for them to do. Jenny, in particular, suggested that if Jaxar needed more time to work his magic, he should steal her. So that was all Jenny. And Sushma helpfully suggested “sexy times” when I didn’t know what would happen. So there’s that.
My editors, Lyndsay and Aaron, are amazing and totally tolerate that I don’t know how commas work. Thank you so much!
The magic of the GarGirls continues as Regine Abel, Stacy Jones, and Stephanie West kept me on track with writing sprints nearly every day. Particularly Stacy who gives the best beta reads. Seriously. AND the Khargals of Duras authors will be at Simply Romance Bookish Weekend Convention in Gatlinburg, June 19–21, 2020. I can’t wait to meet my writer friends and readers. I hope I’ll see you there.
PS: I did enjoy Witcher overall, but I also like to complain about stuff.
Also by Nancey Cummings
Warlord Bride Index (with Starr Huntress)
Snowed in with the Alien Warlord
Alien Warlord’s Passion
Warriors of Sangrin (with Starr Huntress)
Paax
Kalen
Mylomon
Vox
Warlord’s Baby
Seeran
Rohn
Jar
A Winter Starr (with Starr Huntress)
Alien Warlord’s Miracle
The Alien Reindeer’s Bounty
Delivered to the Aliens
Tail and Claw (Celestial Mates)
Have Tail, Will Travel
Pulled by the Tail
Valos of Sonhadra
Blazing
Inferno
Taken for Granite (Khargals of Duras)
Dragons of Wye (with Juno Wells)
Korven’s Fire
Ragnar
Alpha Aliens of Fremm
Claimed by the Aline Prince
Bride of the Alien Prince
Alien Warrior’s Mate
Alien Rogue’s Price
About the Author
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I write fun, flirty and fast stories featuring sassy heroines, out-of-this-world heroes, all
the mischief they can managed and plenty of steamy fun. Hopefully you want to read
them too.
I live in an old house with my husband and a growing collection of cats.
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Jaxar Page 23