Braxx Read online

  “So, Dakonians, like Earthlings, sexually reproduce, and your two species are compatible? Interesting. Would you mind if I included that in my report?” Alar asked.

  Kord, Aton, and I glanced at each other. I shrugged. “Fine by us,” Aton answered.

  A clear, slim box about the size of my phone materialized in Alar’s right hand. He tapped at it with a stylus that also appeared out of nowhere.

  As Earthers would say, I took a stab in the dark. “Somarins do not engage in relations?”

  “Goodness, no. We self-generate. We discovered eons ago auto-cloning avoids a lot of messy interpersonal issues.”

  The device and stylus disappeared, and Alar finished off his spritzer. “I’ve enjoyed our conversation, gentlemen. It was a pleasure engaging with you all. If you’ll excuse me, I must go and observe an ancient Earth custom called a bachelor party.”

  Aton scooted to the end of the bar to mix drinks for some newcomers, and Kord and I sipped our ale. We watched as Alar exited the Stellar Dust Bin. By the time he pushed through the door, he’d nearly become invisible.

  “Auto-reproduction would save our species, but it would kind of take the fun out of it, wouldn’t it?” Kord commented.

  “For sure.” I laughed, although I had yet to experience that kind of fun since my mate would have nothing to do with me.

  “I can’t stay long,” my brother said. “It’s date night. Barb and I are taking a harbor dinner cruise.”

  “I’m thrilled for you but envious,” I admitted. My brother and Barb were happily mated and already had a kit and a cat. They’d gotten off to a bumpy start but had worked things out a whole lot faster than Holly and I were doing.

  “If she’s your Fated mate, it will happen.” Kord clapped me on the shoulder.

  “She is my Fated mate.” My belief never wavered. When Kord had had trouble convincing Barb they were intended for each other, I’d questioned if she was truly meant to be his female. Now I understood his certainty.

  “You’re not spending enough time with her,” he said. “She needs to be closer to you more often for her feelings to form.”

  “I’ve tried to set up dates like the Intergalactic Dating Agency recommended, but she won’t go out with me. Do you know how many times I’ve asked her? Sixty-two.” I took a gulp of my ale. “I haven’t seen her in two weeks. She told me she would never be my mate, and ordered me to stay away from the restaurant,” I said glumly.

  “She can’t bar you from the restaurant. It belongs to Barb,” Kord pointed out.

  “But being there isn’t getting me anywhere.”

  Alar had been correct that auto-cloning eliminated messy interpersonal issues. At this point, it didn’t sound like a bad idea.

  No, it was a bad idea. I wasn’t a Somarin. I was Dakonian, and I wanted Holly! “If only I could speak to her alone, get her away from the restaurant and the crowds.”

  Kord snapped his fingers. “I have an idea! Barb’s mom was going to kitsit Clemmy tonight. What if you did it instead?”

  “I love Clemmy, and I’d be happy to watch her, but how will kitsitting help me get Holly alone?”

  Kord grinned and leaned closer. “Here’s the plan…”

  Chapter Five

  Holly

  Clemmy was crying as I strode up the walk to Barb and Kord’s house. The baby’s sharp distress shot my anxiety through the roof. I’m not cut out for this. I shouldn’t have come.

  I considered sneaking away, but Braxx, holding a red-faced, screaming Clemmy, spotted me through the glass bracketing the door. He flung it open. “Thank the Fates, you’re here. I’ve tried everything. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Did you try calling Barb and Kord?” I entered my friends’ house and shut the door.

  He jiggled the screaming baby and rubbed her back. “Everything but that. This is the first time they’ve been away since Clemmy was born. I didn’t want to spoil their evening.”

  Clementine’s screams hurt my ears, and Braxx looked harried and frazzled, but the sight of him rocking the baby did squishy things to my insides.

  “How about Mrs. Quintain?”

  He ducked his head and pressed a kiss to the top of Clemmy’s near-bald little head. “She had something else planned for tonight. That’s how I ended up kitsitting.”

  I frowned. “She loves babysitting.”

  “I only know what I’m told,” he said, his head bent.

  I had no qualifications to deal with this situation. I had zero experience with babies. Not to mention spending time with Braxx was the last thing I should be doing. I needed to distance myself from him. However, Barb was my best friend. How could I not help her child if she needed me?

  “The kit is screaming and crying and won’t stop! I don’t know what to do! Can you come over? Please?” Braxx had begged, his arrogant chill replaced by panic. Through the phone, I’d heard the baby’s ear-splitting shrieks.

  So, I’d dropped everything, showered, put on makeup, tried on five outfits before settling on a sundress, slipped on a pair of heels, and rushed over. And, here I was: out of my element and in over my head. I had no idea why a baby would cry like this. “Is she hungry?”

  “No. I fed her a little while ago.”

  “Wet?”

  “I’d changed her diaper before the screaming began.”

  It was about 9:00 p.m. Shouldn’t she be in bed? “Tired?”

  “She wouldn’t be if she’d be quiet and go to sleep!” Exasperation looked cute on him.

  “Maybe she wants attention.”

  “She’s getting attention! Why don’t you try holding her?”

  Before I could utter a word, he’d thrust her at me. I understood him needing a break, but he should have prepared me. Warning! Incoming! I held the wailing, unhappy infant at arm’s length like she’d acquired a contagion. Her little face screwed up as she demonstrated how healthy her lungs were. I flinched as the sound stabbed through me. It seemed unfathomable people chose to become parents. Nobody in their right mind would volunteer for this. It defied logic that women who couldn’t have children should feel such aching longing and inadequacy. They should be relieved they’d been spared.

  A lot of things made no sense—like why I’d hurried over here when I had nothing to offer.

  “It helps if you hold her closer, against your body,” he suggested. “She seems to like the physical contact.”

  Reluctantly I cuddled her against my chest. Big fat teardrops leaked out of her eyes and dampened her contorted face. “There, there, Clemmy, it’s okay,” I murmured. “Why is her head red?” The bumps on her skull looked irritated.

  Braxx peered at her then widened his eyes. “That’s why she’s crying! She’s horning!”

  “Horning?”

  “Her horns are growing in.” He darted into the other room and returned with a tube of ointment. “This ought to help.” He squirted a dab on his finger and gently rubbed it over the two red spots.

  Clemmy continued to cry.

  “Maybe she needs a distraction,” I suggested.

  “What kind?”

  My gaze settled on the Baby Tram 1000 in the living room.

  “I tried putting her in the swing. She screamed louder.”

  “But it converts.” As a baby shower gift, I’d purchased the item for Barb and Kord with money collected from the employees of Barbie Q’s. With a click, it transformed from swing, to stroller, to bassinet, to car seat. “Let’s take her for a car ride.”

  “Where to?”

  “Around the block.” I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. It’s the ride that counts.”

  I spotted the controller on the coffee table. “Get the remote.” I jerked my head. “Turn the swing into a car seat.”

  With a click of the button, the Baby Tram 1000 transformed. I settled Clemmy into the car seat and buckled her in. Braxx carried her, and I led the way to my hatchback.

  “You’re doi
ng good, really good,” I heard him whisper. “Keep it up.”

  I turned. “What did you say to her?”

  “Uh, she’s doing better…the crying seems to be tapering off.”

  “You think so?” I couldn’t hear a difference, but he’d been with her longer, so maybe he was going deaf.

  I prepared the back seat, and then we secured Clemmy and the carrier. “Get in.” I motioned to the passenger side. He folded himself into my car, and I settled into the driver’s seat. I backed out of the driveway and drove slowly.

  Half a block later, the shrieks went quiet. Sudden, total, blessed silence.

  He twisted around to check on Clemmy. “She stopped crying!” he whispered.

  I braked at a stop sign.

  “Waaaaaa!”

  I checked left and right then zoomed through the intersection.

  Silence.

  “So that’s how it’s going to be!” I glanced at Braxx. As long as we kept moving, she’d chill.

  White teeth flashed as he grinned. “Appears so.”

  We endured several more recurrences of crying when red lights forced us to stop, but finally we turned onto a thoroughfare stretching for miles, and I got in sync with the traffic signals.

  Kord and I cruised down the boulevard with Clemmy gurgling in the back seat.

  The oddest sort of contentment and electrified excitement settled over me.

  Chapter Six

  Braxx

  With Clemmy’s help, my brother’s plan had gone better than expected. The screaming had gotten a little intense, but it worked like a charm to convince Holly I needed her assistance. Actually, I had needed her help. I’d started to get worried for real when I couldn’t get Clemmy to stop crying.

  “Here’s the plan,” Kord had said at the Stellar Dust Bin. “We’ll have you kitsit instead of Barb’s mom. You call Holly, tell her Clemmy is fussing and you don’t know what to do. She’ll come over, and you’ll have your time with her.”

  “Why would she assist? I can’t even get her to go out with me.”

  “She’ll help Barb. She’d do anything for her. They’re like sisters.”

  “When she sees it’s a ruse and Clemmy is fine, she’ll get mad and leave.”

  “Tell her Clemmy stopped fussing moments before she got there. Or you ran out of diapers. It’s a chance. You got a better idea? You got any idea?”

  “No…”

  Fresh out of ideas of my own, I agreed to kitsit but had held off committing to Kord’s scheme because tricking Holly didn’t seem right. However, desperation weakened my resolve. She had stymied all attempts to get closer and had pretty much ordered me not to show my face at the restaurant again. I’d run out of options.

  Then the kit had gotten cranky. No amount of walking, rocking, or soothing would calm her. So, I called Holly. I might have played up my niece’s distress on the phone, but by the time Holly had arrived, an inconsolable Clemmy screamed with gusto.

  “Your idea to drive Clemmy around was brilliant,” I said. “I never would have thought of that.” If I had, I couldn’t have done it. I didn’t drive, and I didn’t have a car. When I needed to go somewhere, I used Uber or public transportation.

  She shrugged. “I work with a lot of women, and they talk about their kids. Sometimes driving calms a cranky baby—so I’ve heard.”

  “You noticed she was horning, too. I didn’t.”

  “I only noticed the red spots. I didn’t know what they meant.”

  “You don’t give yourself enough credit,” I said. Together we’d made a pretty good team.

  “How long does it take before the horns finish growing in?” she asked.

  “About one solar rotation on our planet.”

  “I had no idea female Dakonians had horns or that you weren’t born with them from the get-go.”

  My lips twitched. “I’m just a man, so I don’t know much about birthing babies, but would you want to give birth to a baby with horns?”

  She chuckled. “Mother Nature thinks of everything.”

  Nature hadn’t found a way to fix the fertility issues resulting in a decline in female births imperiling our existence. “Sometimes. Not always.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” she muttered.

  “How long will we need to drive her?”

  “Well, we’re headed north, so I’d say until we hit Canada or she falls asleep, whichever comes first.”

  I peered into the back seat. Clemmy gurgled, kicked her feet, and waved her fists. “How far is Canada?” I was glad the shrieks had stopped, but I hoped it took Clemmy a while to fall asleep. I wasn’t ready to return to the hut and end my time with Holly.

  “About a thousand miles.”

  Perfect.

  Holly looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen her. The streetlamps cast enough illumination to study her yet not so much that I might get caught at it. She’d fluffed her hair and painted her face. Instead of the slacks and pull-over tunic with Barbie Q’s emblazoned on the front, she wore a flowery dress that swirled around her shapely legs when she walked. I’d noticed her tanned and toned legs as we’d left the house. When she’d gotten in the car, she’d kicked off her slip-on high heel shoes, leaving her feet bare. She had cute toes.

  “What are you staring at?”

  “Your feet,” I said.

  “I can’t drive in heels. They get in the way.”

  I’d envisioned our date for so long, and now I couldn’t think of a thing to say. Nothing interesting anyway. “Have you worked at Barbie Q’s for long?”

  “Since the beginning. Seven or eight years, since Barb started in a food truck.”

  “A food truck?”

  “Some people cook and sell food out of a truck. It’s great for part-timers or for testing a restaurant or to build up a customer base before opening a brick and mortar business. Barb and I met when we waitressed at the same restaurant. When she left to start the food truck, I went with her.”

  “You never tried to open your own restaurant?”

  “No. It’s hard to establish a new restaurant. Most new ones fail. Barb worked her ass off, but she also got lucky. I’m a hard worker, but I’m not a workaholic. I’m not ambitious like she is. My motto is work to live, not live to work. I want to earn enough to pay the bills then enjoy my free time and do the things I enjoy.”

  “Like what?”

  “Swim at the beach—I’ve started taking surfing lessons—hike, go to movies, go dancing.”

  “Line dancing?” My brother’s mate had enjoyed country western dancing before she’d gotten pregnant and had Clemmy. I peeked in the back seat. Still awake. Good.

  Holly shook her head. “Don’t tell Barb, but country western dancing isn’t my thing. No, I just like to let my hair down.”

  “Isn’t your hair down now?”

  “Letting your hair down means I like to let loose—move with the music.” She glanced at me out of the corner of her eyes. “What about you? What does an independently wealthy gentleman like yourself do with his time?”

  “Well, I attend Mrs. Jennetta’s kindergarten class at Gilbert Avenue Elementary School.”

  She laughed. “It sounds like you’re in kindergarten.”

  “I am.”

  She did a double take. “No, really.”

  “I help Mrs. Jennetta with the kits.”

  “Oh! You mean like a job.”

  “That’s right. I work as a teacher’s aide.”

  “For money.”

  “Yes. I receive Earth credits in my account.”

  “That makes more sense. It’s awesome you work when you don’t have to. My fiancé wouldn’t lower himself to perform actual labor. He was a trust fund baby. He sat on a few charitable boards in a token of noblesse oblige, but basically he partied—discreetly, of course.”

  I couldn’t parse it all. Some of what she’d said I didn’t understand—trust fund baby, noblesse oblige? But I caug
ht the gist she thought I was wealthy. However, what stood out was the fiancé part. My stomach dropped to the toes of my boots.

  Did this explain why I’d never been able to gain any headway with her? She was supposed to be my female. The winds of Fate never erred; they would not have matched us if she’d been claimed by another. “You have a mate?”

  “Ex—I should have said. As in past tense. Goodbye. Adios. Don’t let the door hit you on the ass.”

  Her angry vehemence relieved my fears somewhat. The fiancé seemed to hold no special place in her heart, but I had to be certain. “Mating is for life.”

  “Maybe on your planet. Here, people mate for nanoseconds.”

  I must have looked shocked because she added, “Well, maybe longer than that. What I’m trying to say is hooking up is not an all-or-nothing arrangement on Earth. There are different degrees of relationships. Some people seek quick sex with no commitment. Others date for a while but don’t get serious. Some are serial monogamists—exclusive to one person until the relationship peters out, and then they move on to somebody else. Others live together for a while then break up. Some live together forever. Some get married and break up. Some marry for life.”

  “How do you know what you’re going to get?” I asked.

  “Some people make it clear up front—although feelings can change. Relationships are a roll of the dice. Maybe you get lucky and meet the great love of your life—or maybe you end up with a string of broken relationships.”

  “This is why having a Fated mate is much simpler. You know what to expect.”

  “But if you’re fated, then you have no choice, correct? You’re stuck with somebody you may not like.”

  I couldn’t help it—I Iaughed. Sometimes Earth people treated Dakonians as if we were primitive simpletons. We’d had great industries and technologies until the asteroid wiped out thousands of years of advancement, forcing us to start over. But we never lost our wisdom. We were wise in the ways of the heart. Earth had a lot of catching up to do. “When we meet our Fated mate, she/he is somebody we like and would choose. How could you not be happy with someone who fills your life with joy, who makes you a better person than you were before?”