Inferno: Alien Castaways 5 (Intergalactic Dating Agency) Page 4

  He raked a hand through his hair. “I think I was having a premature midlife crisis. I felt stifled, and I lost sight of what was important.”

  “I stifled you?” If she hadn’t handed him back the papers, she would have thrown them in his face.

  “No! You were the important part.” He plucked at his T-shirt. “I hated my job, and I allowed my dissatisfaction to infect other parts of my life.” He reached across the table to cover her fist, resting on the table. “I deeply regret the way I acted. We had something good, and I threw it all away.”

  She extracted her hand and laced her fingers on her lap. The conversation had taken a bad turn. “There’s no going back. I’ve moved on,” she said to head off any potential misunderstanding.

  He twisted his mouth. “My loss.”

  Millie delivered lunch. “Getcha anything else?”

  “No, thank you,” Geneva answered.

  He shook his head, and Millie moved on to another table. “The old Trenton would have forged your signature again.”

  “And kept the money.”

  “And kept the money,” he agreed. “When escrow closes, you’ll get a check. You can have it sooner if you do direct deposit.”

  Call her wary, but no way would she give him bank account numbers. “I’ll wait by the mailbox.”

  His lips quirked in a familiar smile set in a face she hardly recognized. Old Trenton, new Trenton—she didn’t know who the heck he was, but then she never had. She’d been married for ten years to a stranger. He’d done her a favor by dumping her.

  With nothing left to say, she dug into chicken-fried steak smothered in thick, creamy gravy. It came with a mound of fluffy mashed potatoes and a serving of carrots sautéed in butter. Basically, a heart attack on a plate, but damn it tasted good.

  “This isn’t bad,” Trenton said after sampling his.

  “For a diner in a little town that isn’t much to speak of, you mean.”

  “I never understood the attraction for this place.”

  Obviously. In ten years of marriage, he’d accompanied her to Argent once. “Aside from my family living here, the town is quaint and charming. The people are good-hearted.”

  “Can’t offer much of a social life.”

  “You’d be surprised,” she prevaricated, unwilling to admit to him the town was Deadsville as far as dating went. The only two “eligible” bachelors in Argent were eighty-year-old widowed Gus from the bait shop and the resident gay guy, who, while unmarried, was seeing somebody.

  “Does that mean you’re seeing someone?”

  “Yes.” She saw a lot of someones. Millie. Her friends from yoga class. Her uncle. Parishioners. The landlord. Mandy who’d opened the Inner Journey health and wellness center across the street.

  “Been seeing him long?”

  “A while.” She lied without any qualms. She didn’t owe Trenton Walker anything. Besides, not for a second would she allow him to entertain the notion the town or her life might be lacking.

  “Good. I’m glad. That relieves a lot of my guilt.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” she said sarcastically.

  Trenton studied her with a somber gaze. “Do you hate me, Geneva?”

  She sighed. Her reply had been snarky, but she didn’t mean it. She had recovered from the hurt and betrayal and the resulting bitterness, too. While she’d be wise to remember how he’d treated her, she’d forgiven him. “No, I don’t hate you, Trenton. I hope you’ve found what you’re searching for. I do wish the best for you.”

  Chapter Five

  After the customer paid for her purchase and left the Inner Journey, proprietor Mandy Ellison slid onto the opposite love seat in the alcove. “Need a warmer for that coffee?” she asked.

  “No, it’s good,” Inferno replied, taking a sip. Mandy specialized in herbal tea, but after Shadow had had an unexpected bad reaction to one of her blends, she refused to serve tea to ’Topians.

  She regarded him with a sympathetic gaze. “No progress?”

  “None. Geneva still avoids me. Tigre suggested I write her a note, which I did.” He lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “I got no response.”

  “Are you sure she received it?”

  He nodded. “I left it where she’d be sure to find it.” He raised his cup and took a drink. “That’s why I came to see you. I was hoping you might have had another vision.”

  Mandy shook her head. “Nothing has come to me, but let me try, right now.” She touched his hand and bowed her head. After a minute, she released him and met his eyes with a sympathetic gaze. “Sorry. I’m not seeing anything new. But I’ll add you to my daily meditations. Maybe something will come to me. Unfortunately, visions can be hit or miss. The universe acts in its own way on its own schedule.”

  “I understand.”

  “It’s only been a little over three weeks since you met. On Earth, it can take a while for the chemistry to kick in. It’s not unusual for people to spend months or even years as friends before they start to date.”

  “Months? Years?” Horrified, he shook his head. “You and Shadow connected in a matter of weeks. And you two were under the mistaken impression you weren’t genmates.”

  “Each couple’s courtship is unique.” Mandy canted her head. “It’s going to take time and patience to break through the wall of skepticism she’s constructed around herself.”

  That pretty much confirmed his suspicion—that Geneva didn’t believe he was ’Topian. “But, how do I get through to her?”

  “That answer I don’t have.”

  He sighed.

  A customer entered the store. “Welcome to the Inner Journey!” Mandy said. “Feel free to browse. If you need help finding anything, give a shout.”

  “I’d better let you get to work.” He downed the last of his coffee. “Thanks for everything.” He appreciated her concern, even if she couldn’t help him convince Geneva to accept him. On his way out the door, Mandy shouted, “Chicken-fried steak!”

  “What?” He and the customer stared.

  “I saw—I mean, I think Millie might be serving chicken-fried steak today…” Mandy flushed under the customer’s scrutiny. “Doesn’t that sound good?”

  “Thanks for the tip,” Inferno said, to ease her embarrassment over the outburst. With a wave, he left. Hands in his pockets, he strolled up the street and pondered the sad state of his love life.

  Mandy was probably right. Maybe he expected too much too soon. On his planet, a male never had to woo a female or work to convince her he’d make a good mate. Genetics took care of that. Bonding occurred automatically. Although Geneva had the mating marker, she was human, not ’Topian. Genetic bonding was as alien to her as courtship was to him. Maybe he hadn’t expressed himself well enough in his note.

  But, shouldn’t she feel at least a fondness for him by now? His mating glands had reacted within minutes of meeting her. Females didn’t have mating glands, but she should still be reacting. He thought of her constantly. His throat and jaw ached. He existed in a state of perpetual arousal.

  However, they hadn’t spent much time around each other. Once, when they met and she threw him out of the church, and a chance encounter outside Millie’s when she’d ordered him to go away again. If he added up the time they’d spent in each other’s company, it didn’t amount to ten or fifteen minutes.

  He should be more patient—and grateful. While he wasn’t living happily ever after like his four brothers, at least he’d found his genmate. Poor Tigre hadn’t encountered his. Nor had Mysk, their fellow ’Topian who’d arrived on Earth fifty years ago. Some ’Topians never did. Even on their home planet, some men died without ever mating.

  He needed to stop feeling sorry for himself. And if a hollowness remained in his belly, well, maybe he could fill it with chicken-fried steak. That did sound good.

  He scooted across the street to Millie’s Diner—and shopped short. Who the herian is he?

  Inferno glowered through the restaurant window at the s
trange man ogling Geneva in a proprietary way. Jealousy ignited in his gut and spread through his limbs, threatening to burst into flames. He studied her for signs she reciprocated the man’s interest. It offered some relief that she appeared…neutral, even annoyed.

  Or was she?

  She masked her emotions well—except for anger, which had been directed at him.

  Their meal finished, she and the man stood up. The interloper pulled out his wallet and extracted a few bills. Geneva shook her head and slapped money on the table, too. Irritation flitted across the man’s face before he shrugged.

  Geneva waved at Millie, and then the man put his hands on Geneva’s body! Fire surged from Inferno’s core to his extremities and into his fingertips. He curled his hands into fists to contain the flames.

  Chapter Six

  Trenton’s neutral expression slipped a few times, revealing he wouldn’t be averse to rekindling their relationship. Well, Geneva was averse. She’d stamped their relationship account closed. She’d rushed through her meal, and, as soon as she’d swallowed the last bite, she jumped up and announced she had to get to work.

  Several times, he’d accidentally on purpose brushed her hand, then he’d insisted on trying to pay for her meal, as if they were on a date. Oh hell, no. She tossed her share on the table. Trenton refused to take his money back, so lucky Millie. She was getting a heck of a tip.

  With a hand against her lower spine, Trenton guided her out of the restaurant. Once, she’d gotten hot and sweaty with this man; now, she squirmed out of reach, unwilling to have his hands on her even for an instant. As she twisted away, she spotted Inferno glowering through the window.

  Oh, great. Double trouble, she thought, but felt an instant fluttering in her tummy and a throb of arousal between her legs.

  Trenton followed her gaze. “What the hell is wrong with his face?”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s bright red.”

  “Yeah, well, you stained your neck blue. There’s nothing wrong with his face!” If she had to choose between the two men, she’d take Inferno over her ex any day—even if he did call himself an alien. She stomped outside.

  “Geneva?” Inferno said.

  His deep, rumbling voice sent another surge of heat rolling through her. She flushed. “Hello, Inferno.”

  Trenton puffed up like a rooster. “You two know each other?”

  “We’re genmates.” Inferno puffed up, too.

  Trenton snorted. “This is the guy you’re seeing?”

  Where did he get off questioning and judging her? She was tempted to say yes to knock the smirk off his face, but that would signal a wrong message to Inferno, so she settled on, “My social life is none of your business.”

  “Whatever. It’s your life.” Shaking his head, he stalked off.

  “Yes, it is! And thanks for bringing the paperwork. I’ll wait for the check!”

  He got into a dinged-up two-door rental car and sped away.

  “Who was that man?” Inferno asked.

  “My asshole of an ex.”

  “So, you are not with him anymore.”

  “Oh God, no. Banish the idea. This is the first time I’ve seen him in two years.” Why was she telling him this? She didn’t owe him any explanation.

  He smiled, his whole face lit up, and she stared, almost mesmerized. Damn, he’s hot! She could stare at him all day. He had soulful eyes. An angelic smile. And the horns of a devil, she reminded herself—although they were hidden under his ball cap. Still, in the light of day, he didn’t look as fiendish as she remembered.

  Two cars pulled up to the curb, and four people emerged from each vehicle and piled into Millie’s. After the door closed behind them, she asked, “Did you leave me a note?”

  “Yes. You wouldn’t talk to me, and I needed to express my feelings, so I wrote you a note.”

  “Your behavior could be considered stalking,” she said.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Did you follow me here?” She studied his face.

  “No.” He shook his head and pointed down the street. “I went to the Inner Journey, and Mandy mentioned chicken-fried steak, so I decided to try it.”

  He sounded sincere, but she’d call Mandy and check out his story. Trust but verify. “The chicken-fried steak was very good.” The only thing wrong with the meal had been the company. She peered into the restaurant. While they’d been talking, all the tables had filled up. The lone available counter seat was wedged between two portly gentlemen. “Looks like it’s full.”

  “I can wait.” He lifted a shoulder. “Or I’ll grab something at the Whitetail Saloon—or go home and eat. I have options.”

  Geneva bit her lip, poised on the brink of a decision. Leave. Just leave. That would be the sensible thing. When a man claiming to be from another planet leaves you a love note, you should run to the nearest courthouse and get a restraining order.

  But her entire body tingled with awareness and odd expectancy. He smelled wonderful, like warm spice, exotic yet familiar. He called to mind cuddles by a roaring fire on a rainy night, romantic picnics in a field of wildflowers, and stolen kisses. Especially the latter.

  Aware she was about to make a huge mistake, she said, “You could walk with me while you wait for a table to open up.”

  His eyes widened with surprise, and then he smiled. “I would like that.”

  Side by side, they fell into place. “One of the niceties of living in a small town is that you can walk everywhere,” she commented, making conversation. “Which is good because my car is old and not very reliable.” With the windfall, she could fix all of Wanda’s mechanical issues. “If not for the bad weather in winter, I could do without a car.”

  “It’s nice today,” he said.

  “Yes, it’s unseasonably warm.” People in the diner had been wearing short sleeves. Spring in North Idaho was chilly, even outright cold. Snow still was possible. “Have you lived in Argent long?”

  “About one of your Earth years.”

  Still going with the alien thing.

  “Have you always lived in this village?” he asked.

  “A little over two Earth years,” she quipped.

  “Where did you live before?”

  “Boise.

  “I’ve never heard of that.”

  “It’s the state capital!”

  The church came into view as they turned left on Second Avenue. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him where he’d lived before Argent, but she had a hunch the answer would annoy her. Continuing with the theme, he’d probably say ’Topia, that alien planet he’d mentioned before. Why do the cute ones have to be crazy? Or lying con men? I shouldn’t have asked him to walk with me.

  “How did you get the nickname Inferno?” she asked.

  “It’s the name my parents gave me.”

  “Your parents named you Inferno? It’s your real name?”

  “Yes. Didn’t your parents name you?”

  “Why would they give you a name like that?”

  “Because I’m a Luciferan.”

  Why did he smell so good? Why did her body hum with desire? Why did she like him despite his lies? Or despite his craziness. “You shouldn’t have written that note to me.”

  “Why not?”

  A love note from somebody you loved was sweet and romantic. The same note from a stalker was…scary. “It was inappropriate. We’re strangers.”

  He halted on the sidewalk. Expression somber, he pressed a hand to his chest. “I’ve been waiting for you all my adult life. I know you in my hearts.”

  “Hearts?”

  He nodded. “I have two of them. The main one and a spare.”

  She planted her hands on her hips and dropped her jaw. “You won’t quit, will you?”

  He scratched his head, pushing back his hat, and she caught sight of a horn. “What do you mean?”

  “You do not have two hearts!” She stomped her foot, annoyed with him, madder at
herself for liking him when he gave her every reason in the world not to.

  He grabbed her hand and held it to the left side of his torso. His heart drummed a strong, hard beat in a chest radiating heat like a furnace. She was one of those women who was cold most of the time. How heavenly would it be to curl up next to him, absorb his delicious body heat, inhale his enticing scent... She jerked at the fantasy taking shape.

  He moved her hand to the right, and she felt another thumping against her palm.

  “Two hearts,” he said and released her.

  There had to be a plausible explanation. Perhaps his heart beat so strongly, the contraction of the muscle could be felt on both sides, she reasoned, and then realized she still had her palm pressed to his chest. She yanked her hand away.

  Her gaze collided with his, and the spinning world threw her off kilter.

  “Somebody is waving at you,” he said.

  “What?”

  He gestured, and she turned to see her uncle coming down the steps.

  “Hello, I’m Pastor Mike,” he introduced himself when he reached them.

  The two men shook hands. “I’m Inferno. It’s very nice to meet you.”

  “Interesting name.”

  “So I’m told.”

  “Are you visiting, or do you live here?”

  “Oh, I live here.”

  “Wonderful! Argent is a great place to live.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Uncle Mike pushed up his glasses and peered at Geneva. “Any idea when Trenton is coming?”

  “He’s come and gone. He showed up early and met me at Millie’s.”

  “Everything go okay?”

  “Fine. I’ll fill you in later.”

  “Good. We’ll talk this afternoon. I’m off to an interfaith council meeting.” He kissed her cheek and then regarded Inferno. “Nice meeting you. I hope you’ll drop in for Sunday services sometime.”

  “Thank you for the invitation.” After her uncle left, Inferno asked her, “Do you attend?”

  If she said yes, he’d probably show up front and center every Sunday. “Occasionally.” Only often enough to support her uncle and satisfy propriety. She found the singing peaceful and calming but couldn’t buy the theology.