by Cara Bristol
Although a gold-toned alien would be richly appropriate, and a silver one would match the color spoon my mother had in her mouth, I hoped for purple. A nice, bright violet with complementary yellow tentacles. If he glowed in the dark, that would be even better.
It took me 44.5 minutes to complete the questionnaire. I read it over, tweaked a few of my answers then touched submit.
Thank you for completing the profile questionnaire. We will be in touch when your perfect match is found.
Chapter Two
Six weeks later
Darak
The bright-yellow flowers drooped, but my horns tingled with anticipation as I strode to the Earth dwelling unit where Alexandra lived. I would finally meet my female. I straightened my kel tunic, took a deep breath, and rapped my knuckles against the door.
From inside, I heard clicking footsteps, a metal bolt sliding back, and then the future opened up.
Oh, Fates, she was beautiful. More so than I even imagined. Lustrous hair the color of mud during a Dakonian Thaw kissed her shoulders and drew my attention to lush curves molded by a body-hugging tunic that left her arms and lower legs bare.
“Darak?” her voice and eyes questioned, but my certainty didn’t waver.
My mate. I stifled the growl rising in my throat. I’d been told growling frightened Earth girls. I never wanted to scare her. “Yes. You are Alexandra?”
Her smile lit up her eyes, and for a moment my heart stopped beating.
“Guilty,” she said. “But, please, call me Lexi. Only my mother calls me Alexandra.”
I didn’t understand why she would use a name other than the one given to her, but I had much to learn about Earth customs, even though I’d completed the Intergalactic Dating Agency’s assimilation class. Still, the lessons had been helpful. If not for the class, I wouldn’t have known I should bring a plant.
“I brought you flowers.” I held out the bouquet. I’d been fortunate to find the delicate, yellow-headed flowers growing among the cracks in the sidewalk outside the barracks where I lived.
“Dandelions?” She blinked and then laughed. “Very thoughtful. Thank you. Why don’t you come in while I, uh, put these in water?”
All Earth doorways were low—I’d hit my head too many times to count—but fortunately, I remembered to duck this time. Upon entering, an indescribable, warm, honey fragrance, wafted around me. I couldn’t resist leaning closer to her to get another whiff.
“What are you doing?” She stepped back.
“You smell good,” I said.
“Oh.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Uh, thank you. It’s uh, vanilla body lotion.”
Her dwelling unit was much bigger than any we had on Dakon, at least triple the size of the largest stone domes or the prefab huts the Terrans had given us. The barracks for extraterrestrials where I resided on Earth was large, but men slept twelve to a room, so we didn’t have the space she did.
I followed her into a cooking room where she filled a short, clear tankard with water and placed the flowers in it. “Can I get you anything? A drink? Water? Glass of wine?” she asked.
“Water would be great,” I replied. Like the wilting flowers, I felt the impact of the heat, too. Although I’d been eager to escape the frigid temperatures of my planet, the Earth’s summer had come as a shock.
She handed me a tankard like the one she’d placed the flowers in, only taller, and I gulped the entire contents. “More?” she asked.
I finished off a second glass. “I’m not used to the heat on your planet,” I explained after refusing a third tankard. “My planet is nowhere near this warm, not even during the Thaw.”
“The Thaw?”
“Our short growing season. The rest of the year, Dakon is covered with snow and ice.”
“Oh, so you’re Dakonian.” She shifted her gaze to my horns, and they swelled under the caress of her scrutiny. I stifled another growl. “Not purple, but the horns are perfect,” she murmured then straightened and said in a louder voice, “I wasn’t sure if you would plan anything, so I took the liberty of making dinner reservations. If you’ve made arrangements, we can cancel them.”
“So going out means traveling to a restaurant where we share a meal. I’ll remember for next time.” I’d been told pursuing one’s mate involved going out, but until now hadn’t known where we were supposed to go.
“It can also mean going to a movie or the theater, to a party, taking a walk in the park, dancing, having a drink at a bar, visiting a museum or art gallery, or hanging out.” She shrugged.
“Going out is complicated.” Would I ever learn the intricacies of Terran ways?
She laughed. “Yes, and the going is the easy part.” She picked up a bag called a purse carried by most Earth women. “How did you get here?”
“I flew on a spaceship.”
“I meant to my house.”
“Oh. I walked.” It only took two tripta, but the two-hour walk had been hot, which was why the flowers had begun to droop.
“We’ll take my car, then. I hope you like Italian food.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never had it.” I vowed to be polite and eat whatever was put before me. Some Earth food tasted delicious, while some of it did…not.
“Pizza? Spaghetti? Lasagna?”
I shook my head.
“We’ll give it a try.”
Her tunic swished and swirled around her legs as she led me through a side door into an attached building housing a large square-ish vehicle with capacity for a dozen people, except it only had two seats. The entire back was empty except for shelving bolted to the walls.
“Sorry about the van.” She twisted her mouth. “My other car is in the shop.”
“It smells…sweet in here. Like macha flavored with honey, only better,” I said.
“Not surprising. This is my work vehicle. Your Just Desserts uses it to deliver cakes and other pastries. Except my sister’s wedding cake,” she muttered as she backed the vehicle out of the building. She jabbed at some buttons on the panel and wonderful cold air shot out. “If the A/C is too cold, you can adjust the temperature or the vents.”
“I don’t think it’s possible for anything on Earth to be too cold for me.” I arranged the vent to spray cool air into my face.
She glanced at me. “Macha—that’s a pastry on your planet?”
“Sometimes. Macha is a grain from which different foods are baked. Sometimes they are sweet like an uh…cookie.” I had to rack my brain for a comparable Terran word. “Is that right?”
“Flat, round, and sweet?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s right, then. You speak English quite well, by the way. Although you have an unusual accent.”
I touched the small bump behind my ear. “A translator allows me to understand and speak most Terran languages, although I can’t read them. I didn’t find out until coming here that multiple tongues are spoken on Earth. I assumed there was only one, like on Dakon.”
She piloted the vehicle very fast and seemed to recognize many other drivers with whom she exchanged hand gestures. When she palmed the center of her steering apparatus, the vehicle emitted a honking noise. The other pilots honked back.
“Sorry.” She twisted her mouth and hunched her shoulders. “I don’t do well in traffic.”
Before too long, she drove down a narrower street, pulled into an open area, and stopped the vehicle. “This is Luigi’s,” she announced. “It’s a little mom-and-pop place. They make their own sausage and pasta.”
We entered the building and into a mouthwatering aroma. If the cooking scents were anything to judge by, I would love the food. Only Lexi’s amazing vanilla scent smelled better to me. We sat next to a window draped in red. Another length of cloth of red and white squares lay over the table.
A female came by and asked what we wanted, and Lexi placed our order for two specials, lasagna with meat sauce. “And a side of s
ausage for him,” she added. They brought us a basket of macha, and my mate demonstrated how to dip it in oil sprinkled with herbs.
“How long have you been on Earth?” she asked.
“Two weeks. They told me when I arrived they had found a match for me, but I had to go through immigration and attend assimilation classes. When did you find out we’d been matched?”
“Two weeks ago. I worried they wouldn’t find someone for me in time. Tell me about dating on your planet,” she said.
“There is no such thing as dating on Dakon. A man asks a woman if she wishes to be his mate. If she says yes, they are bonded for life.”
“There’s no courtship? They don’t go out?”
I shrugged. “Dakon is covered in snow and ice; there is no place to go, except maybe to the tavern for ale. Our planet’s population is small. Everybody knows everybody.”
“So why did you come to Earth?” She dipped her macha in the oil and took a bite.
“Because I wanted a female. Our planet has very few. The asteroid that hit our planet a couple of centuries ago decimated our population and caused an ice age. The asteroid also carried a virus, resulting in a genetic mutation. Female births have been declining ever since, and now only one female is born for every ten males.”
“Good galaxy—that’s worse than Earth!”
I glanced at the other eaters in the restaurant. “You seem to have an abundance of females.”
“We have a shortage the other way—fewer males than females, but it’s not skewed anywhere close to what Dakon is experiencing.”
“That’s why you signed up for the Intergalactic Dating Agency?” I said.
Instead of answering the question, she ducked her head and broke off another piece of macha. When she lifted her gaze, her expression was serious, almost apologetic. “I thought the Terra-Dakon Goodwill Exchange Program sent women to your planet?”
“A mere hundred arrive with each shipment, and unless you win the lottery for a chit, you don’t get a female. I came up empty-handed at every drawing, so when the Intergalactic Dating Agency approached the Council of Dakon and offered us a chance to come here, I jumped at the opportunity.”
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head and then pressed her lips together. Candles flickered in little red jars, casting a rosy glow over her face, framed by her beautiful mud-colored hair.
“I’m not.” I’d had reservations about leaving my home planet, but after meeting her, they had vanished. In her presence, I felt alive, my head buzzing, my manhood and horns throbbing. Our horns reacted with our Fated mates, no one else. We’d been told in the assimilation class Earth females needed time to adjust, to analyze their emotions, but I already knew how I felt. “You are everything I’ve ever drea—”
“Who had the sausage?” Our server appeared at the table with two steaming platters of food.
“He did.” My mate pointed to me.
The server deposited the plates in front of us. The platters were identical, except mine had some sort of meat encased in a membrane. “Can I get you anything else? Grated parmesan?”
Lexi nodded, so I did, too.
With flourish, the server cranked a small device and sprinkled yellowish-white flakes over my mate’s food.
“That’s good,” Lexi said.
The server turned to me. “Say when.” She kept sprinkling and sprinkling, and the flakes began to form a mountain.
“When! Stop!” Lexi called. She looked at me. “Do you want that much cheese?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never had cheese.” I also hadn’t realized “when” meant stop.
The server offered to get me another plate, but I declined, and tasted it. The savory, spicy food was unbelievable, unlike anything I’d ever eaten. The cheese melted into something gooey, warm, and wonderful.
“Okay?” Lexi asked. “Not too cheesy?”
“Incredible,” I replied. “What is this cheese made from?”
“Milk from a cow. You don’t have cheese on your planet?”
“We don’t have many animals on our planet anymore. We have kel, which we hunt for food. They are wild, so attempting to get their milk would get you gored. We use kel hide for bedding and clothing.” I plucked at my tunic. “We also have phea—that’s a fowl—and harebits, a large rodent.”
“Isn’t your kel hide clothing kind of warm in our heat?”
“Too warm,” I said.
“You need some Earth duds—shorts, T-shirts, maybe a pair of jeans.”
My mate was easy to converse with, but I talked too much about me. I wanted to learn more about her. I had been told Earth people enjoyed discussing their jobs. “Tell me about your employment,” I said, hoping I used the correct word, and she would understand what I meant.
“I’m a pastry chef,” she said. “I bake cakes, pies, cookies—like your macha—that I sell out of my shop, Your Just Desserts—or as my mother likes to call it, my little hobby.” She snorted.
“Your mother doesn’t approve?”
“My family is success-oriented, high achieving.”
“Your bakery isn’t a success?”
“It is a success—just not up to their standards. Nothing I ever do is.” She shook her head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go off on a rant. Let’s change the subject.”
“Why did you decide to use the Intergalactic Dating Agency?” What was wrong with Earth men that they hadn’t asked her to be their mate yet?
She pushed the food around on her plate. “That’s kind of the same subject.” She exhaled and looked up. “My younger sister—who does everything expected, meaning well, is getting married next week. I wanted a date for the wedding.”
“To show you were successful in getting a mate?” I understood. Since Dakon had so few females, having a mate conferred a man with considerable status.
She shifted her gaze out the window. “Something like that.” She fluttered her hands. “It was…a half-baked idea.”
“I would be happy to be your date.” I would be happy to be her anything.
“Oh, Darak…” She pushed away her half-eaten meal.
“Your sister’s wedding is like a mating ceremony?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“What happens at a wedding?”
“You don’t have weddings on your planet?” She canted her head.
“No. For a male and female to commit to one another, he merely has to ask her, and she either accepts or declines. If she accepts, they are bonded for life.” I swallowed my last bite of lasagna then blotted up the leftover sauce with another slice of macha and ate it. This meal topped my list of favorite Earth things, and I vowed to have more lasagna. However, the splendor of the meal didn’t compare to my female’s company. Euphoria made me feel as if I’d downed several tankards of ale.
Lexi eyed my empty plate and nudged her half-full one. “Do you want the rest of mine?”
“No, I couldn’t take your food!”
“I’m full. I’m not going to eat it. It will just go to waste. Please, eat it.” She grinned. “You’re a growing boy. How tall are you?”
“Seven feet and a few marks.” I shrugged. “Average.” I exchanged her platter for mine. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Eat, please.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Our wedding sounds similar to your mating. A couple makes promises to each other. The difference is that it occurs in front of family and friends, and then it is legalized by an official who pronounces them husband and wife.”
“And there is cake.” I remembered her utterance in the vehicle about not making the cake for her sister’s wedding.
“Yes. At the reception, which is a big party, there is food, music, dancing. Everyone celebrates the couple’s marriage.” Her expression turned serious. “Anybody who is anybody will be at my sister’s wedding. It will be a major to-do. She’s already had an engagement party and a bachelorette party. There will be a wedding rehearsal, the rehears
al dinner then the actual wedding and reception, and a post-wedding breakfast. My parents are hosting the entire shindig at their country estate.”
“All done?” Our smiling server swooped by our table. “Do you have room for dessert? The cannoli are amazing. Some gelato?”
“I wouldn’t care for dessert,” Lexi said, but motioned to me. “The cannoli are amazing. You should try one.”
“Thank you, I’ll pass.” If my mate eschewed dessert, then I would.
“Just the check, then,” she said.
“Back in a flash. Let me get these plates out of your way.” The server collected the crockery and departed.
“My brother joined my father’s medical practice. My mother is the one who arranged the introduction between my sister and her fiancé. They’ve supported my siblings every step of the way. My mother dismisses Your Just Desserts, but the wedding would have provided the kind of visibility that could have boosted ‘my little hobby’ to the next level. Not that I intended to use my sister’s wedding to feather my own nest, more like it would have demonstrated my family believed I was good enough.”
“I think you’re good enough.” I reached out and covered her hand. Her skin was as soft as a baby kel’s fur, her bones fragile and delicate. My intention had been to comfort her, but pleasure swelled my loins and my horns at the first physical contact. I sat there and breathed through my mouth and nose, not wanting to scare her by revealing how much the simple touch had aroused me. I had restrained the urge to caress her, sensing it would be too much, too soon.
Her eyes widened, and I withdrew my hand for fear I’d overstepped my bounds. On Dakon, customs were simple and clear-cut. We all knew what was expected. On Earth? Everything was ambiguous, “open to interpretation,” sometimes one way, sometimes another. It was hard to determine right from wrong. I did not want to make any missteps and offend my mate.
