by Susan Grant
Then all too soon she saw the turnoff to her street.
She slowed. The little white stucco house, the terra-cotta tile roof, a flag snapping at the end of a pole above the tiny front porch. The sight welcomed her as it always did. The house her parents had moved into as newlyweds. She was damn lucky she’d been able to buy it so many decades later. As she parked in the driveway, the wild feeling from the ride pumped inside her—not only from the ride but at inviting Hawk into her home, into her world.
She stowed their helmets, gathered her workbag, the flowers, and tried to pretend she’d experienced a normal Friday trip home. She failed miserably.
She stood on her patch of front lawn, shaking her head. “Holy crap, Hawk. That was… amazing.”
“You felt it too.”
Awash in wonder, she tipped her head. “So it was real. Whatever it was. What happened?”
“Synergy,” he said.
“I don’t understand what that is.”
He took her hand and pressed it to his chest. His heart thudded under her palm like a fist on a door, demanding entry. “Let me show you.”
She nodded mutely, and he drew her, stumbling a little, to his mouth.
And then they were kissing deeply with pent-up hunger and explosive wet heat. A zero-to-sixty, full-on passionate kiss.
His tongue stroked hers, and she sighed into his mouth, grabbing a handful of his T-shirt, her knuckles scraping against his bare abs, the flowers mashed between their bodies.
It weakened her knees the way he hooked one arm around her waist, holding her close with clear possession, his other hand fisted in her hair at the base of her neck. Instantly she was drunk on his taste, his scent. His confidence. A moan slipped out of her, muffled and needy, her aching breasts pressed against his chest and stomach. His groin was a hard, thick ridge against her jeans. When his fingertips traveled down her back, exploring her curves, she craved those expert fingers inside her jeans, inside her panties, inside her—
Highway to the danger zone.
Hell yeah. But in the meantime, boy, could he kiss. Maybe better than anyone she’d been with before. Not only with skill but with feeling. Words unspoken, communicated through touch… and maybe more. Thoughts… intuition?
Was this synergy too?
The kiss ended far more gently than it had begun, fading away sweetly like the last notes of a favorite song. His hand brushed over her jaw, his thumb dragging over her cheekbone, his lips touching the corners of her face, satiny amid the bristle of his upper lip and chin. “Goddess, Kelly. I’ve wanted this for so long.”
His statement was like a salve. She smiled and did something completely out of character: she rested her cheek on his chest, melting against him, letting him support her weight, allowing him to hold her upright.
She’d long resisted showing vulnerability—it was dangerous, revealed weakness—but she couldn’t help herself with Hawk. She trusted him deep down in a gut-instinct way.
Thank God he didn’t grow cold or mock her. Instead, he folded her in a secure hug, rocking her slightly as he rested his chin on top of her head.
“Is that Michael?”
Kelly jumped, startled as a quavering voice carried to her ears.
“To be continued,” she told Hawk, pressing her finger to the center of his chest.
“No, Mrs. Fletcher,” she yelled past his body. “Michael’s not home yet.”
“Michael?” Hawk asked.
“My half brother. Mrs. Fletcher is my neighbor. She can’t see very well.” Turning, she kept her hand in Hawk’s, almost as if she feared he’d fly away, leaving her to think this was a dream.
The little old lady stood, leaning on her cane on the sidewalk. Her equally ancient Jack Russell terrier, Harley, panted on the end of a leash. If she weren’t half-blind, she might have wondered why Kelly looked like a debauched bridesmaid, a crumpled bouquet dangling from one hand, her clothing crooked. “That young man is tall like Michael. I thought it was him.”
“No, ma’am. Michael’s still overseas. He won’t be back until November. This is Hawk. He’s a friend of mine from the base.”
“With a goal of becoming more than your friend when the time is right,” he growled in her ear, his breath hot. Her knees almost buckled.
Then he lifted his hand to wave to Mrs. Fletcher, all innocent, as if he hadn’t practically caused her to orgasm from words alone. “Greetings, Mrs. Fletcher,” he called out.
Smiling, the elderly woman and her dog continued on their walk.
“Will she be all right?” Hawk asked, taking a few steps after them. “Does she need assistance?” His features had tightened with clear concern, and his empathy melted Kelly. The sky warrior was a softie, a neighborhood hero ready to rescue a little old lady.
Mrs. Fletcher would probably kick him in the shins.
“No, she’s fine. She was a test pilot for a private aircraft manufacturer back when women weren’t allowed to fly most aircraft. She was a real pioneer. She told me she’d still be flying planes if not for her eyesight.” Kelly grinned, affection swelling for her neighbor. “She knows to call me if she needs anything. Her daughter lives in town too. She has plenty of family around.”
“I have never seen a human of such an advanced age.”
“I hope I’m as hardy and independent when I’m ninety.”
Hawk’s head jerked around. “She is only ninety?”
“Only? Not many people live to that ripe old age.”
“On Earth,” he said. “And in the former Drakken Empire too, I suppose. On my world, one hundred and ninety is not uncommon.”
She knew that, but until he threw it out there, she’d never absorbed that staggering fact. Hopefully, with the Triad’s technology, life spans on Earth would eventually be as long as they were on other worlds.
That technology was the reason Hawk was here. His people needed pilot pairs to fly ships older than the pyramids—flying them with their minds. It was also why she’d best not forget he’d be leaving in a month. Whatever might happen between them, that part wasn’t going to change.
He’d come to Earth to find Sky Mates.
She’d agreed to help—and win the chance to stay longer in Webber.
Their goals were aligned, but not compatible for any kind of future together.
Only for fun.
She took a breath and smiled. “Let’s go in. I want to put these flowers in some water and change clothes. Then dinner! I’m starving—how about you?”
Chapter Nine
“Dawn… Patrol…” Hawk sounded out the words in heavily accented English, peering up at the restaurant sign as he opened the door for Kelly.
“Yes.” She appreciated that he seemed to take the effort to read English as often as possible, an alien language to him written in what must look like hieroglyphics. The Queen’s Tongue looked as strange to her when she first saw it. “It’s a dive—that means not fancy—but the food is fantastic. It’s cooked by a real person named Dawn. She’s been here forever. The name of the place is a play on the term dawn patrol, which means the earliest flights of the day to take off. It’s always been the place to grab a great cup of coffee and a donut or pastry, or eggs to go, even at four a.m., and head into work.”
They walked inside. A group of ranchers stood by the cash register. Even though Hawk wore the cowboy hat she’d coaxed him to borrow from Michael’s stash and his outfit wasn’t different from most locals, he still stood out with his skin color and silver hair cropped close on the sides and gathered in braids down his back. The group eyeballed him coldly.
Typically Webber was welcoming to strangers. The base brought in business, and they supported its mission. But extraterrestrials were a different story—especially when they looked as alien as Hawk did. The trio murmured among themselves while she and Hawk stood at the counter. She doubted they’d cause trouble, but she kept a wary eye on them all the same.
“Two orders of chicken-fried steak,” Kelly said. “Wit
h biscuits and home fries. An extra side of hush puppies and two glasses of sweet tea.”
She told Hawk, “Their hush puppies are to die for. Just you wait and see. Little morsels of cornbread bliss, deep-fried.”
He pushed the brim of his hat up with his thumb to smile at her like a genuine cowboy, his gemlike eyes twinkling. “I am open to any and all cultural training,” he said in QT, inviting further derisive stares.
Irritated, Kelly frowned at the group. She couldn’t pull rank in town like she could on base, but she sure as hell wouldn’t let hate win. It awakened every mother bear instinct she had.
They waited for their order at a corner table in the back. Dawn’s granddaughter Maria carried their plates over. She gave Kelly a broad grin, but when her gaze slid to Hawk, she almost dropped the plates on the table before scurrying back to the kitchen.
Lots of stares were aimed at Hawk. Kelly was grateful she’d always been able to fit in simply by her appearance. Hawk didn’t have that good fortune, not here. It was like the old West and a new sheriff was in town.
He didn’t seem to notice the attention. If he did, he didn’t care. His perspective was broader. He’d lived through the equivalent of a galactic World War III. A war hero, he’d fought in epic space battles of a magnitude she couldn’t fathom. He’d had bigger things to worry about than if some people were suspicious of him.
She unfolded her paper napkin and spread it on her lap. “Webber is a small town. We’re used to seeing strangers in town from the base. Strangers from space will take a little more getting used to,” she added to help explain away the less than warm reception. “It’s a pretty tight group here. I think most of the people in Webber have some sort of connection, either to each other or to the base or both. My parents grew up here. After my dad passed, my mom’s friends talked her into going to O’Malley’s. She didn’t really want to go. It hadn’t even been two months since she buried her husband. She had me to take care of too of course, and she was still getting over losing my dad. She was struggling. I’m sure money was awfully tight, but I was too young to notice. But she met my stepfather that night, and he pursued her. I can’t blame him. She was beautiful. She still is.”
His gaze was frank, his voice steady. “I think you are beautiful, Kelly.”
Her face blazed. For once she didn’t have a handy comeback.
“Was that not proper of me to say?” His brows came together, and he sounded worried.
“No—I mean yes. Thank you. I’m flattered. It made me feel… a little bashful is all. Your directness. I’m not used to that. Plus I don’t see myself that way. My mom though, she was a classic bombshell—an hourglass figure, a perfect face. Long black hair—she’d wear these huge, big ol’ curls. She has the thickest, longest eyelashes—and they’re real. She was a beauty queen back in the day. On Earth we have contests for beauty.”
“That is an unusual custom. On my world, we hold contests for the best fliers.”
“On your world I might have a chance at winning then.” She chuckled and reached for her utensils. Hawk followed her lead. It was endearing the way he seemed to take his cues from her when they were in public, mimicking Terran manners.
She dug into her meal. It looked like the chef had poured about a quart of creamy, black-pepper-speckled gravy over her chicken-fried steak. Browned, crispy edges peeked out and made her mouth water. Hawk seemed to waste little time cutting into his steak, consuming it and the home fries with gusto.
“So anyway, they got married and we moved on base,” she finished. “My stepfather is a general and they’re stationed in England now. They’ve seemed happy all these years.”
“Like you observed of Falcon, your mother may not have appeared ready on the inside to move on after losing your father. Yet she did.”
Kelly thought about that. “I suppose so. I hope that can happen for Falcon. Only he knows.” Or doesn’t. “He really seems taken with Rainbow. I’d play matchmaker if only she was interested in being a Sky Mate. Anyway, it’s not gonna happen. She refuses to enter the study. Unless it becomes mandatory, she won’t have to. She’d be the perfect candidate. I keep telling her that. She likes living in Webber, but she wouldn’t mind leaving I don’t think.”
“But you would mind.”
“Leaving Texas?”
“Leaving Earth.”
An uncomfortable pause. “I’ve never given it serious consideration.” A few more seconds of silence ticked by. She found herself looking out the picture window. Mountains formed a jagged border against the sky, a scene as familiar as the back of her hand. “I like how it looks here. How it smells. How it feels. How I feel when I’m here. I like the person I am in Webber.”
“This place is part of you, you said last night. Part of who you are. It is home.”
She answered with a nod. He regarded her for a moment longer, then went back to eating, his posture suddenly more upright and formal, and she bit her lip, sensing he’d hoped for a different answer. Would she leave Earth for him? For anyone? She couldn’t imagine being taken away to another planet. For a traumatized first grader grieving for her dad, not trusting the stranger who had invaded her life and stolen away her mama, Ohio might as well have been another planet. She still remembered what it felt like, being torn up by the roots, replanted and largely forgotten. She never wanted to repeat it.
Weird that Hawk’s question, an innocent enough one, had dredged up so many emotions from the past. Uncertainties, old and new. What was it about him that could burrow inside her, getting inside walls she’d erected so long ago? Getting inside her well-barricaded heart.
With her fork, she pushed a piece of potato around her plate.
“Your parents took you far from here,” he said as if guessing her thoughts.
“My stepdad did. We moved a lot. And I cried a lot—in secret. My mom was busy being an officer’s wife, busy with a new husband. For a kid who had been the center of attention, it was hard to be left with babysitters all the time. I didn’t act out—I became even better behaved. I didn’t want to risk losing what little of them I had. I even started down the path of becoming a pilot to be more like my stepfather so he’d pay more attention to me. Then I fell in love with flying and it didn’t matter anymore. I continued in my career for me.” Pride in her efforts filled her. “Not to impress him or anyone.”
“Did it work? Did your stepfather acknowledge you more often after you expressed your interest in flying?”
“A little, yeah. But it was always kind of like an unsatisfying meal. He gave me just enough attention to keep me from being hungry but never enough for me to feel full.” She winced, twirling her fork. “Why am I telling you all this?”
“Because I asked. Because I wish to know you, Kelly. All of you.”
All of me, eh? She flooded with the heat of desire and pretended to focus on her food, wondering if their definitions of “all of her” were the same. “My upbringing is why I’ve never been interested in having children.” If she was laying her cards on the table, she might as well not hold any back. They’d messaged about a lot of things via data-vis, but the conversations hadn’t turned this personal. “My passion is flying. I love kids, but I’d never want mine to think they weren’t important. Because I know what it feels like.”
“On my world, a passion for flying is seen differently. It’s celebrated. The more, the better. Our children know this.”
“You didn’t feel left out when your parents did their Sky Mate things?” It was a wonder they didn’t. But her experience was different.
He shook his head. “I saw their passion—for flying, for each other—and wanted the same for myself one day, the deep love they shared. That they still share—it has not waned. It shines as an example of what can be attained. You used the analogy of a meal. I will use that of sunshine. I basked in the glow of their passion, and I thrived. I grew up confident and strong in the warmth of it. I used to dream that someone somewhere was also growing up confident and strong.
One day I’d meet that person and she’d join with me. As a lover. As an equal.”
“As a Sky Mate.”
“Yes. Two halves of a whole.”
A zing of jealousy pierced her. The idea of Hawk finding that connection with someone bothered her more than she’d like to admit. Hawk wasn’t officially entered in the study, but his DNA still was on file she’d guess. Someone from Earth could unexpectedly end up in the testing pool, match with him, and boom, just like that Hawk would be paired up.
Which was everything he’d always wanted. His dream. His family’s dream. She’d cheer if it happened for him. She’d support him. All the Solos.
“For what it is worth, like you, I never have felt a deep yearning for children of my own. Both my brother and sister have offspring, and while I enjoy being an uncle, being a father isn’t a priority. If it were to happen, I would welcome it. My focus though remains on helping my people. That’s where I can best serve.”
Searching for what he believed he could never have—a Sky Mate. His duty? To see his Solos matched. Not him.
They’d talked at length about it. Yet it truly struck her in that moment, the enormity of his undertaking. What he’d vowed to do. His sacrifice.
He’d given up on finding that hoped-for sunshine for himself, stepping aside into the shadows so that others could experience that light.
“As for your desire to remain in Webber,” he said. “In my training, I learned that it’s common for Terrans to feel a connection to a specific locale, an actual physical place on the ground. I have to work to comprehend this. I didn’t set foot on land until I was five standard years old.”
“Really? How’s that?
“We lived in the clouds—in the sky towers. They are incredibly tall structures, a Terran mile high and more. When we travel between them, we do so via air. Because my parents were a sky pair, I grew up in one of the highest, most exclusive towers. Everything we needed was in the sky—shopping, medical care, farms and greenhouses, factories, school. Even so, I’d stare out the windows for hours and wonder what lay below. I begged to see the ground, the land, just once. Father complied. Or rather, he indulged me.” Hawk smiled, his gaze softening. “He was—is—a good father. He made arrangements with the authorities and took me down to the surface. Dirtside, we call it.”
