Hawk: Sky Mates (Intergalactic Dating Agency): a Sci-Fi Romance

by Susan Grant

  “They’re so attractive,” Dee breathed, sitting and scooting closer. “So what are they like, Crackers? I’m dying to know.”

  “After their shenanigans today, honestly, I expected egos and a whole lot of arrogance. What I got was a group of honorable officers who’re really worried for their planet’s future. I’m charmed by them actually.”

  “Hawk looks so big and serious.”

  “He is big and serious. But he gives great handshakes.” She speared a piece of brisket with her fork and popped it into her mouth.

  Dee laughed. “Go on. Don’t leave me in suspense.”

  They leaned closer. “I mean, when is shaking hands sexy? It gave me butterflies. I felt it clear to my toes. If that’s what he can do with a handshake, I can’t imagine what other things are like with him, if you get my meaning.”

  “I double dog-dare ya.” Dee threw her arms out to the side. “Take me to bed, or lose me forever.”

  “That’s a negative, ghost rider.” They were always exchanging Top Gun movie lines. “He’s my co-liaison.”

  “So?”

  Kelly cocked a brow at her. “It ain’t gonna happen.”

  “After work hours. You’re professionals. You could keep it on the down low. He’s only here for five weeks.”

  “We’re not having this conversation.” Because the idea of a hot fling with Hawk was too tempting. Because the more Dee offered suggestions, the more Kelly considered them viable options.

  “Is he not interested?”

  Then there was that. Maybe he wasn’t into her. She’d never thrown herself at a man, and she wasn’t going to start now. “Probably not. I don’t know. It’s hard to tell. He hasn’t made any moves.”

  “And if he did?”

  “I’m not gonna lie, it’d be hard to say no,” Kelly admitted. “Hey, stop tricking me into giving information!”

  “I’m the intelligence officer. That’s my job.”

  “Why are you encouraging me to get involved with him?”

  Dee’s gaze softened. “Because of the look on your face every time you say his name. It’s been that way for weeks.”

  Kelly pushed up. Did Hawk see a look on her face too? Maintaining a poker face was one of her trademark talents. Or it was supposed to be. “We’re friends, Rainbow. Coworkers. Full stop.”

  Dee focused somewhere behind Kelly, and her bright smile winked out like an automatic porch light. “They’re popular with the ladies, I see.”

  Kelly twisted around in her seat. Hawk had returned, his drink in hand. He’d stopped to talk to Falcon, who was surrounded by admiring civilian females. Women from town were a fixture at O’Malley’s on Thursday nights. Falcon appeared to enjoy being the center of their attention.

  Then, as if he sensed something, Falcon glanced up, his gaze homing in on Dee like a heat-seeking missile.

  Target lock. The air seemed to sizzle.

  “Whelp.” Dee popped to her feet. “It’s time for me to go.”

  What had gotten into Dee? Was it Falcon? “Stay for dinner.”

  “I’ll pick up something on the way home.”

  “Rainbow, at least let me introduce you to the team—”

  “I’ll meet them at the orientation tomorrow. It’s an early night for me. I have studying to do.”

  “Studying? What kind of studying?”

  “Just a course I’m taking. I’ll see you in the morning.” Dee ducked between some people exiting the dance floor and hurried away through the crowded bar.

  Falcon’s gaze followed her. The big sky warrior had an expressive face. His mouth had pulled into a manly pout, his brows angling upward. He must be disappointed that she’d left.

  Interesting. Kelly folded her arms over her chest and considered his reaction. Dee had been adamant about not wanting to participate in the study. But did that rule out private time with a sky warrior?

  Hawk slid into his seat with a fresh root beer. The DJ put on a song Kelly loved. People filled the dance floor. She looked on, swayed to the music.

  “You like to dance,” he said.

  She swiveled to face him, her heartbeat ratcheting up a few notches. “Want to give it a try?” It’s just a dance. That’s all. Low risk. Part of his cultural immersion.

  His expression was equal parts skeptical, shy, and heartbreakingly handsome. “I have never before done so.”

  “I can show you. It’s called a two-step. It’s not hard. I’ll teach you.”

  Some town girls walked past the table with sky warriors in tow. Rigel flashed Hawk a “help me” look.

  That seemed to break the ice, and Hawk let out a quick laugh, shaking his head. “Sky Warriors… dancing. My world is one step closer to having a Starman on every corner.”

  “It’s Starbucks,” she said with a grin. “And yes, you’re being assimilated. You never should’ve let your guard down around us Terrans.”

  Or maybe around me.

  On the dance floor, she took his warm, dry hands in hers, walking backward as she pulled him along. The sound and feel of the wood planks beneath her boots was as comforting and familiar as heat lightning on a summer night.

  She placed her left hand on his upper arm, sliding her right hand over his palm. His grip on her hand tightened, giving her that butterflies in the pit of her stomach feeling again. It was just a side effect of being around him. She could easily ignore it. She was helping him acclimate to Earth. It was part of being a liaison, practicing alien diplomacy.

  She’d gotten very good at lying to herself.

  “Your other hand goes on my hip,” she said. “It’s literally a two-step move. Quick, quick, slow, slow.” She showed him with her feet. “You move forward, me backward. Yes, like that.”

  God, it was so hot, so sexy, the way he didn’t hesitate to take the lead, his eyes on her, making her feel as if she were the center of his universe. She didn’t know if he had a woman back home on Sky’s End, but whoever she was, she was a lucky girl.

  “Hey, you got this, Hawk. You’re a natural.” His biceps flexed under her palm. He wore a faint smile as he led her around the floor, moving in a counterclockwise flow along with the other couples. “All right, think you’re ready to try a spin—?” Before she finished saying the words, he twirled her to the left. Then to the right. He must have been watching the others. Wow, she was impressed; he was improving by the second.

  It wasn’t due to his cyborg abilities. She glimpsed Rowan and Rigel with their partners, looking like any novices would: frowning at their boots, their partners calling out directions.

  Not Hawk. He whirled her through a series of spins with only the barest of body language hints from her. Whenever she reached for him, his hand was somehow there. She had only to think of initiating a move and he completed it.

  It was exhilarating. The spectators flew by in a blur. She took his beginner’s luck and raised it a few notches. Holding both his hands, she twisted backward, falling, wondering if he’d catch her. She needn’t have worried—he was there, bracing her body before sweeping her back to him, holding her, facing away from him, spooned against his hard chest and stomach, their fingers twined.

  He lowered his head, her cheek close enough to his mouth to feel his breath, setting off lightning strikes inside her.

  And then she spun away, vaguely aware of her friends whistling and cheering and generally being their normal, rowdy selves.

  When the song ended, Hawk placed his hand on her waist and swung her into a low dip, both of them grinning, gasping, their gazes locked on each other, his braids tickling her shoulder.

  They remained like that for a few seconds, a moment carved out of the pause between the songs, a pause in the universe, it felt like.

  Time standing still; fate holding its breath.

  His eyes glowed. A trick of the light, she was sure, but it was breathtaking. Then he pulled her upright, his hand still wrapped around hers, her other splayed on his stomach. No joke, she could feel the heat of his skin through h
is shirt. Her sexual awareness of him surged.

  Don’t get yourself in trouble, Kelly.

  She let go, turning away before she did something crazy like pull him close for a kiss. Before she yanked his shirt from the waistband of his jeans. Before she tore through the buttons of his fly and dragged him somewhere private to fuck his lights out.

  Or did she want him to make love to her? An oh so very dangerous desire. They were supposed to be co-liaisons, not—

  “Kelly,” he said, hoarsely. “If I may speak to you.”

  Yes, please, she almost blurted out. Tell me what the hell just happened. That was no mere dance. Did you feel it too?

  Her body was still trembling as she smoothed her hair off her forehead. The dance had laid bare her attraction to him. It was like being dealt an unexpected hand—she couldn’t risk letting him know. She took a breath, wiped everything she didn’t want him to see from her face, swapping woman-Kelly for fighter-pilot-Kelly before she turned around.

  She smiled brightly, her hands on her hips. “Yes?”

  She could almost see him hunting for what he wanted to say, choosing and then discarding words. Then, in all his socially awkward glory, he placed his hands behind his back. “I would like to thank you. For introducing me to recreation. That is all.”

  Her chest clutched. Could the big stony-faced warrior be any more endearing?

  Then again, Hawk’s formality was an unspoken do-not-cross line. It was how men acted when they had someone waiting for them at home, or if they weren’t interested in pursuing anything that might turn physical. Roger, copy that. She got the message, and she’d respect it.

  “You’re an amazing dancer, Hawk. Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

  “I can assure you, I’ve not experienced anything of the sort.”

  Neither had she.

  Back at the table, her squadron friends greeted her with high fives and fist pumps.

  “Nice job, Crackers.”

  “You guys rocked it out there.”

  “Talk about dirty dancing.”

  Two-stepping—dirty? Uh, just how dirty was it? It was a blur.

  “Captain Ritz.”

  She swiveled around. A line of five sky warriors faced her, all four males and Ellfen.

  “Your instruction in the art of two-step would be of great value to us,” Falcon said, dipping his head in a bow as he flattened his hand on his chest. “As lead Solo, if I may go first…”

  Deflecting a barrage of invitations from Terran females to dance, Hawk stationed himself on the sidelines, taking far more pleasure in watching Kelly dance with others than he might have gleaned in the company of those females. She was a bright spark of joy, her beautiful face aglow. Her formfitting clothing accentuated her curves as she energetically moved around the dance floor, dancing with the Solos and also with her friends.

  Every once in a while, a Terran male placed a hand treacherously close to the swell of her buttocks or leaned close to share a laugh, and Hawk flinched with a hot twinge of possessiveness. Mine, his instincts roared, and he had to will the reaction away. His powers of observation were keen, but unless his mind had lied to him, he didn’t see any evidence of what he’d experienced while dancing with her.

  One plus one equals two and a half.

  He’d only ever imagined the concept, and as a Solo had longed for it until he’d been forced to accept it would forever be out of reach.

  Tonight he’d gotten a taste of what he’d been missing.

  He’d synced with Kelly, the most important of all connections, their minds tenuously linked but connected. It was similar to what he’d felt when he clasped her hand, only magnified.

  His body still quaked with the aftereffects. Except there was one obvious fallacy with the thought. There could be no sync between them, no joining. The phenomenon required a bonded pair, Sky Mates, and he wasn’t viable.

  But she is.

  While the results hadn’t yet returned a match for her with the candidates he’d brought to Earth or any of the other Solos at home, it remained a possibility. Good enough odds that he had no right imagining he’d felt something with her, no right taking pleasure from it. No right to stake his claim on a female who could potentially form a pairing with another.

  It would be a betrayal of his Solos who trusted him, a betrayal of his people. An adult male from a respected clan, a sky warrior, the firstborn of Sky Mates, he would never do such a thing.

  It would not happen again. He had a mission to accomplish. By the Goddess, he would.

  “Hey…”

  The sound of Kelly’s voice was both like a salve on his jangled nerves and fuel poured on a fire. The disparate sensations threatened to unbalance him further. He shut his eyes for a second, bracing himself inwardly before he turned around.

  She smiled up at him, and his chest squeezed. He ached to run his fingertips over her cheek, over her dewy skin, and tuck her curls behind that one perfect ear. He made a fist and pressed it hard against the small of his back as if securing a weapon. Touching Kelly could very well set off a runaway reaction.

  “I love your team,” she was saying. “They’re a lot of fun.”

  He hunted for something to say in response, something witty and consequential, and sighed. Must he always be so tongue-tied in her company? Once upon a time, before he’d crossed paths with this enchanting Terran, he’d been able to string more than a couple of words together. With Kelly, he suffered a complete breakdown of his verbal functions.

  Her eyes sparkled in that way they sometimes did when he failed at conversing. “I’m off to get some ice water,” she said. “Do you need anything, Hawk?”

  You. Naked. In my bed. Then no words would be necessary. There would be other, better ways to communicate.

  “I’ll accompany you to fetch the water.” Any excuse for more time in her company would work.

  As they waited for the barkeep to fill the order, they leaned their backs against the bar and companionably observed the crowd. The music changed from one song to the next. There was a sudden migration on and off the dance floor. Hawk recognized the tune as one where rows of people danced in a synchronized manner. Earlier, he’d been transfixed watching Kelly join in, swiveling her hips, stomping her boots.

  He tipped the barkeep per Terran custom and took the offered glasses, handing Kelly one. Smiling as she moved to the music, she pressed the icy glass to her flushed cheek.

  A droplet crawled down her jaw. He tracked its meandering path to where it disappeared in the neckline of her shirt before he jerked his eyes away.

  He’d never felt such a powerful sexual attraction to a female—especially not with one for whom he felt this level of admiration along with the bond of friendship and the unaccustomed tug of tenderness. Keeping his distance until he left Earth would be pure torture.

  Kelly’s squadron mate Karma sidled up to the bar, his gait a little unsteady, his smirk telling Hawk he’d caught him in the act of staring longingly at Kelly. He ordered a beer and leaned sideways. “A word of caution, my friend. No one wins Crackers’s heart. Not you, not me. No one.”

  Kelly shot her friend a playful glare. “Definitely not you.”

  Hawk smelled beer on the Terran pilot’s breath. The alcohol seemed to have loosened his tongue.

  “It’s all fun and games until she figures out you like her. Then”—Karma sliced his finger across his throat—“you’re done.”

  Hawk’s focus snapped to Kelly. Was that true? Or drunken nonsense?

  “Shut up, Karma. Can’t a girl be happily single?” Kelly rolled her eyes and drank some water. “Or only if she’s single and interested in you?”

  Karma laughed. “Too bad your DNA got the boot, Crackers. I feel cheated. I had the popcorn ready. Now I can’t watch you try to wiggle out of that genetic ball and chain.”

  “Pass the popcorn. Here you are, biting your nails, hoping you get matched for life. That’s entertainment. Not too much you do surprises me,
Karma, but I honestly didn’t see that coming.”

  Their words ricocheted inside Hawk’s skull like magna ammo speed-fired inside a containment hull. His gaze bounced from one to the other as he fought being defeated once again by Terran slang. Why couldn’t they stick to QT as it was written without inserting their colorful, albeit impossible to understand, Terran lingo? “I don’t follow.”

  Kelly turned to him. “My DNA was rejected by the medical board. It’s genetically impossible for me to be a Sky Mate.”

  A jolt of surprise rocked him to the core. “I didn’t know that.”

  “I forgot to tell you. What does my DNA have to do with us?”

  Everything…

  He wasn’t sure if he wanted to shout with exultation or take offense. She’d been removed from the testing pool. After all their messaging, she had not once mentioned this fact. Something that had loomed so large in his mind had not even entered hers, it seemed.

  Guilt shouldered aside his selfish, knee-jerk reaction. It was a shame that a woman of her caliber was removed from the study. A shame that none of the candidates would benefit having such a worthy match by their side. But the decision was based on scientific fact and beyond his and Kelly’s control.

  My wishful thinking did not make this happen.

  As his seesawing emotions settled, hope filtered through him. She was free to be with him now. An unexpected and wonderful twist of fate.

  He schooled his expression. “I assumed you were certain to be paired with one of my candidates and that you wanted to be. You’ve been eager to see Project Sky Mates be a success.”

  “I still am. Just not for me personally.”

  That took him aback. “Why not?”

  “Well, the candidates are too young for me, first of all. Plus I’m not interested in any of them.”

  Was she interested in him? Did he stand a chance of winning her over? And if he did? What then? He hadn’t thought past his brief stay on Earth, and she’d been clear: Webber, Texas, was her home.

  She dabbed the back of her hand against her lips and considered him as if trying to gauge his reaction. “It’s good though, right? Not to have that distraction hanging over us.”