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Barb frowned. “What makes you think he only wants to be friends?”
“I told him how it had to be, and he agreed. We shook on it.”
Barb laughed like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.
Chapter Eight
Braxx
The instant I walked into Barbie Q’s, my horns tingled with anticipation at seeing Holly again, but I was nervous, too. I’d gotten her to agree to be friends, and we’d shaken hands, but I could be certain of nothing until she agreed to be my mate. I had a hunch achieving my ultimate goal would require more finesse. I’d already had to adjust my timeline. Getting to Earth by spaceship had eaten up three months. I’d wasted several more months being matched by the IDA with unsuitable women before I’d met the female I was supposed to have. Then a year had passed while I’d tried in vain to soften her heart toward me.
While friendship wasn’t the goal, it did represent a big leap forward. She would at least talk to me, and I could eat at the restaurant again. However, I had experienced how contrary she could be. What if she’d reversed herself since the night she’d helped kitsit Clemmy? What if she’d reconsidered and decided she didn’t want to be my friend?
Dixie, one of the server females, spotted me and led me to my table. I always sat in the best location to view the big windows overlooking the dining room. Although I couldn’t see inside, Kord had relayed that people in the office could see out. When Holly wasn’t bustling around the restaurant, she was up there, so I wanted her to know when I arrived.
“The usual?” Dixie asked.
I always ordered the all-you-can-eat barbecued brisket because it reminded me of the roasted kel we had on Dakon. I’d loved it at first, but after a year of eating it night after night, I didn’t think I could force it down again. “What do you have that’s different?”
“Well, you could go with chicken or, if you want to get crazy, you could try the smoked tofurkey. It’s new. Barb added a vegan option to the menu.”
Chicken was a fowl similar to our phea, but I had no idea what kind of animals tofurkeys or vegans were. Recent events had proven doing the same thing produced the same results. Getting a different outcome required new action. As soon as I’d changed my pattern with Holly, I’d gained some forward movement. Why not try something new for dinner as well?
“I’ll have the tofurkey,” I said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Brave man,” she said.
“With extra sauce.” That would be new, too. Generally I preferred meat without sauce.
“Wise choice. You’re gonna need it. You want the usual dark beer to start, or do you want to shake that up, too?”
“Beer,” I said. “Don’t shake it.” Shaking would cause it to foam.
She laughed. “Gotcha.” She left to place my order, returning a few moments later with my beer and a basket of Texas toast. I liked the fluffiness of Earth grain products. Our macha, which we used for gruels, biscuits, and breads, baked out heavy and hard.
I was chewing a slice of Texas toast when Holly emerged from the office. I swallowed and washed down the mouthful with a gulp of beer. She descended the stairs and headed for my table.
My horns throbbed, and my heart raced with excitement and desire. My mate. Her lack of acknowledgement didn’t change the facts—the Fates had selected her as my female. However, our new amity was evidenced by a welcoming smile instead of the more familiar scowl.
I owed my brother a big debt of gratitude for suggesting the ruse. I did feel a little guilty for tricking her, but in the end, I had needed help. Clemmy wouldn’t stop crying! I think the little kit had helped to soften Holly’s heart toward me, maybe showing her what the future could hold for her. It had certainly reinforced how perfect she was for me. I loved her. She was everything I ever wished for. Wise and caring, she would make a great mother to our many kits—five or six at least. I couldn’t wait until we were mated, and she became pregnant. Beautiful now, she would be more lovely with her tummy rounded and swollen with our baby. I would cherish her every single day. I would cook for her, massage her feet and back, and support her in her labors to bring our kits into the world. I couldn’t wait until our hut filled with the gurgles and giggles of our own babies.
“You’re back!” she said with a little lilt in her voice.
“You said it was okay,” I replied. “I came to see you.”
She bit her lower lip and shoved her hands into her apron pockets. “Friends…right?”
Her wary tone caused my hopes to sink a little, but I reminded myself I’d achieved more in the last week than I had in the previous year. She’d come to my aid, spent an evening with me, talked to me, even smiled. With kitsteps and more time with her, I would win her over. “I wanted to thank you again for your assistance with Clemmy.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “You don’t have to thank me. I was happy to do it. Clemmy is a little doll, and Barb is my best friend.”
“Actually, I had another reason for coming here again.”
“Oh?”
“To apologize,” I said, playing a hunch. I prayed my lie didn’t anger the Fates, but pre-selection of one’s mate didn’t guarantee a mating, as I’d discovered the hard way. Fate left the details to the individuals. I’d achieved greater forward momentum when she thought I wasn’t interested in her.
“Apologize? For what?”
“For making a nuisance of myself and foisting my feelings on you. I’m over it now. I promise I won’t bother you anymore. You said I could come back to the restaurant, but I won’t if you don’t want me to.”
For a second, her face and shoulders sagged, and she blinked rapidly before assuming a blank expression. It bothered her to think I no longer cared about her. Obah!
She cared! My mate cared!
Perhaps I shouldn’t feel so elated over her dejection, but I couldn’t help it. I promised the Fates when Holly was officially mine, I would confess my lies to her. But for now, I would take any advantage, fair or unfair. She wasn’t immune to me, but she resisted showing her feelings. Why? I wondered.
“Oh…uh…that’s all right. I, um, overreacted. You don’t need to stop eating here. I meant it when I said you could come back.”
“Thank you. But I must confess, I’m getting a little tired of the same thing every night.”
“Then order something else.”
“I did this time. I got the tofurkey.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“No…” I shook my head.
She glanced up at the window then leaned close. “Listen. I love Barb. She’s my friend and a great boss. Getting a restaurant off the ground is no mean feat, and to turn it into the hottest eatery in the city? She deserves all the accolades she gets, but”—she lowered her voice—“smoked tofurkey is not one of her better ideas. Try the chicken instead. Or maybe ham.”
“Tofurkey, coming up!” Balancing a loaded tray on her shoulder, Dixie scooted up to my table.
“He can’t eat that!” Holly said.
“Hey, it’s what he ordered.” Dixie opened a rack, set the tray on top, and then with a grin and a flourish set a platter in front of me along with a squirt bottle of barbecue sauce. I recognized the fries, corn on the cob, and beans, but I stared at the little grayish cubes of…something. What part of the animal did this come from, anyway? Some internal organ, maybe? Some people ate animal innards, but Dakonians didn’t.
I squirted some sauce on top of it, stabbed it with my fork, and popped it into my mouth.
It was like congealed, tasteless…mush. Good Fates! I needed to spit it out, but both females were watching me. Dixie stood with hands on her hips and smirked. “Well, what do you think?”
“Uh…um…”
“Stop teasing him. Get him some chicken,” Holly said. “Smoked turkey. Ham. Anything.”
I forced myself to swallow the mouthful. “I would prefer that.”
<
br /> Dixie laughed and grabbed another plate from her tray. “Here you go, hon! I ordered you some chicken since I knew you wouldn’t like tofurkey.”
“Thank you,” I said gratefully.
“Enjoy your meal.” Dixie winked, gathered up her tray, and moved on to another table.
Holly waved at me. “Please, eat. I don’t want to disturb your meal. I have to…uh…get back to work anyway. It was nice seeing you again.”
I couldn’t let it go at this. If I let her walk away now, I could lose the ground I’d covered. I had to find a way to keep moving forward. But, what? How?
Maybe…she’d come to my aid the other night. What if she thought I needed help again? I did have a problem—getting her to recognize she was my mate! Suddenly, I got an idea. It would involve another lie. I hated to mislead her, but I vowed to confess when I could be assured of her affections. “Could you help me with something?” I asked.
“Sure. What is it?”
I shook my head. “No, never mind. You have better things to do.”
“No, what is it?”
“I took your advice and reactivated my membership in the Intergalactic Dating Agency. I don’t want to make the same mistakes with other females that I made with you. Could we maybe get together so you could give me some dating pointers?”
Chapter Nine
Holly
I clung to the chain-link fence surrounding the diamond and scanned the field. Braxx sat in a lawn chair on the sidelines with the parents of the children. The bases were loaded; a girl stepped up to the plate. She got two strikes before she hit the ball and got herself to first base, allowing the little boy on third to race to home.
Braxx jumped up and cheered. “Go, Anthony!”
As soon as the boy crossed the plate, he ran straight to Braxx. “I did it, Mr. Braxx! I did it! Did you see?”
“I saw, Anthony! I’m so proud of you. You scored a point for your team!” He ruffled the kid’s hair.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Preoccupied by Braxx and the game, I answered it. “Hello?”
“This is credit card services with an important message about your account—”
“Dammit!” They’d got me. I hung up and blocked the number. At best, robocalls were annoying, but most were scams. Without the roboblocker, I’d be bombarded. Still, at least a half dozen sneaked through daily—the “Internal Revenue Service” threatening to have me arrested if I didn’t pay up, “Microsoft” needing access to my computer to fix it, fake charities soliciting donations. Even my “grandchild,” stranded in Europe called me needing money to get home.
Hence, I ignored any and all calls I didn’t recognize—unless I picked up by mistake.
As I rounded the fence, Braxx saw me and waved me over. I pasted on a smile and tromped across the grass. “Hey there,” I called.
Holy smokes, he looked hot—and cute. He wore tight blue jeans and a tan shirt. On his head he had a ball cap with cutouts for his horns.
Braxx introduced me and the boy.
“Are you Mr. Braxx’s wife?” Anthony asked.
“I’m his…friend.”
“I’m his little brother,” he boasted with a beaming smile. He stared up at Braxx with hero worship in his eyes—the same way I’d be gazing at him if I didn’t check myself.
“I figured that,” I replied. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“You have? What did you hear?”
Wouldn’t you know the kid would call me out? I racked my brain for something Braxx had mentioned. “Oh…that you play baseball…you go to school at Gilbert Avenue Elementary, and you’re in the class where Braxx works. You’re both in Friend 2 Family.” I hoped he wouldn’t notice I stated the obvious. I omitted one fact I was aware of—Anthony was a foster kid.
I thought the kid’s face would crack with how wide he grinned, making me feel guilty and glad. Anthony retained his childlike innocence, but being in the system, how long would that last? This little boy craved positive attention, and my respect for Braxx took another quantum leap. How many single men would devote their spare time to helping a child in need?
Seeing Anthony and the other kids made me long for the children I could never have and for the man I had to reject because of it.
Another kid on Anthony’s team—the Muskrats according to their shirts—struck out, and their opponents in the field ran to take their chance at bat.
The coach motioned to Anthony.
“You’d better get back in the game…slugger,” Braxx said.
Anthony raced off to take up position in the outfield, and Braxx turned to me. “Did I say that right? Slugger?”
I smiled. “Yes.”
“Good. I’m still learning your Earth terminology. Thank you for meeting me here. You’re a little early.”
We’d arranged to have dessert at some little shop so I could coach him on his dating technique, but he’d asked if I could pick him up at the park and drive him.
“There is still more left to play,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind waiting.”
I glanced at the scoreboard. “They’re in the bottom half of the final inning, but don’t the kids go out for burgers or ice cream afterward?”
“Yes, but Anthony won’t be able to attend this time. His foster mother wants him back right after the game. They’re going out of town, so she’s coming to get him. In fact, I should text her now.” He pulled out his phone. His thumbs and his lips moved as he sounded out the words.
Anthony iz all most redie. U can pik him up.
I hadn’t meant to read over his shoulder, but his spelling was interesting even for text language. I recalled the children’s books he said he was reading, and the significance finally dawned on me. Oh my gosh. He’s just learning to read and write English!
Still, he knew more of my language than I did of his. The only foreign phrases I spoke were obah and kel in Dakonian, cómo estás, hola, and adios amigos in Spanish, au revoir and oui in French, and some dirty words in Croatian I’d picked up from a busboy. Foreign curse words came in handy when you needed to cuss out stupid drivers.
“I think what you’re doing—being a big brother to Anthony—is wonderful,” I said when he shoved his phone into his pocket.
“Who wouldn’t help a child?” he asked.
“A lot of people.” Me, for instance. I’d been avoiding children like the plague.
Barb had suggested a job and volunteerism might substitute for parenthood. She might have been onto something—she just had the wrong person. If anybody needed to be a parent, it was Braxx. But me? Perhaps doing a good deed for a child could result in a win-win. Kind of like immersion therapy. Face my fear. Feel the pain and move through it. I could help a needy kid—and heal my wounds.
Or rip them open more.
Still—volunteerism was something to consider.
“Those people don’t know what they’re missing,” he said.
A day didn’t go by that I didn’t realize what I’d lost. I forced a smile. “What is this cupcake place we’re going to?”
“It’s called Just Desserts. Darak, a Dakonian friend of mine, is mated to the proprietress. There is nothing better than a cupcake from Just Desserts.”
“Not even Barbie Q’s tofurkey?” I teased.
“Uh…” He fidgeted.
I laughed. “Just kidding.”
“I’m glad you could meet with me,” he said, “because I have a date tonight, and I want to be ready. I must say and do all the right things.”
“You have a date? Already? Today?” So soon? I had assumed he wanted general pointers. I didn’t realize he was getting ready for an actual date.
“Uh-huh.” He scanned the ball field. “Later, after the game.”
* * * *
I bit into a Death by Chocolate cupcake and stifled a moan of bliss. Braxx had been right—nothing tasted better than a Just Desserts cupcake. The chocolate tasted so good, if I keeled over
right now, I’d die happy.
Or not, because I had a hunch I was headed straight to hell for my lies. I didn’t want Braxx, but I didn’t want another woman to get him, either.
Actually I did want him. Desperately. I coveted him with every cell of my body.
After encouraging him to forget me and reactivate his IDA membership, the idea of him meeting some bimbo and living happily ever after made me want to rip out her hair extensions. I didn’t doubt she’d have them.
A great guy, Braxx would be snapped up faster than a Just Desserts cupcake. I jotted a mental note to tell Barb she needed to order some for the restaurant.
“So, when I meet my date, you recommend not asking her questions about herself?” He peeled the paper off a Razzle Dazzle Raspberry, his fourth cupcake. It had seemed overkill when he ordered an assorted dozen for the two of us, but he’d already put away four, and I’d had two.
I shook my head. “She’ll be interested in you, so you should talk about yourself all night.”
He frowned. “What do I talk about for that long? I’m not that interesting. I guess I could tell her about my job at the school, how I volunteer with Friend 2 Family, and my time with Anthony.”
“Anything but that.” I nixed those subjects. They shouted daddy material, and women would swoon.
“How about my life on Dakon?”
“No, not that, either.” Who wouldn’t find an alien planet and culture fascinating?
“Then what?” He spread his hands. “You have to help me. Give me some suggestions.”
“You’re not into cars, right?”
“No, I don’t drive.”
“Too bad. Women love hearing about auto mechanics and maintenance and how you rebuilt the motor with spare parts and a paper clip. You haven’t written any computer code you could talk about, have you?”
“No.”
“You might be able to catch a golf tournament on TV and give her a play-by-play recap of every putt.”
“I doubt there’s time for that.”