Risdaverse Tales: Four Risdaverse Novellas

by Dixon, Ruby

  I want that so badly, and yet I cannot have her. The universe is cruel.

  24

  LUCY

  Today is not going like I planned. I thought I'd get Rektar to come out to my house and seduce him, but I'm too rattled to do any kind of seduction at the moment. Someone really is stalking me, trying to sink their dirty mitts into my farm…or me. I'm a woman that always has a plan, but right now, I honestly do not know what to do. Nothing in my plan involved getting stalked.

  To make matters worse, I'm pretty sure Rektar isn't interested in me at all. He won't look at me half the time, wouldn't come inside until he saw me crying, and tries to keep a distance between us. It's distressing, because if I had a guy like him as my mate, I wouldn't be scared of anything. Instead, it looks like that will never happen, and I'm going to have a hell of a lot of trouble on my hands.

  "What do I do?" I ask Rektar again, worried.

  "We will help you, of course. The port authorities will not allow you to be harassed." His answer sounds stiff and rehearsed. "I will look for this Mezzak Sta'Iq and bring him in for questioning."

  I stare at him. It's like we're speaking different languages. "And then what? Questioning him isn't going to scare him off."

  Rektar seems momentarily puzzled, as if it hasn't quite occurred to him that sometimes the bad guys won't listen to reason. "I shall…tell him…to leave you alone…" Then he lets out a heavy sigh. "You have a point. I could arrest him for trespassing, but it won't stick. Someone will claim that his DNA landed in your barn by mistake—a stray hair blown in the wind, perhaps—and he'll be free and back on the streets."

  I hug my arms over my chest. I've dealt with a lot since being kidnapped by aliens, but this is probably the most utterly alone I've ever felt. "Then you can't help me. No one helps us." I think of my neighbor—the woman who lived there before Tessa. I met her twice before news of her murder went around Port. She'd been killed by land squatters, who think that us human women are a mere deterrent, nothing more. Or heck, not even a deterrent. All someone has to do is throw his weight around and convince some frightened, unprotected woman to marry him and then the bad guy gets the farm AND a fuck toy. The human either gets to put up with her new husband or she gets murdered. It's an ugly situation, and I've been so, so lucky to avoid it thus far. "I'm a sitting duck out here."

  "I will not let you be a Doug," Rektar says fervently. He jumps to his feet. "Not on my watch."

  Gone is the awkward, oversized giant who wants nothing to do with me. In his place is the Rektar I've been longing over for the last few months. His eyes glitter with determination, and his mouth is set in a firm, unyielding line. He looks over at me and there's an expression of such ferocious protectiveness that something inside me clenches. "I'm going to protect you, Lucy. You will not be a Doug if I have anything to say about it."

  "Duck," I correct automatically. God, he's cute when he's upset. I wish he was my husband. Or…maybe this is part of his plan? I feel a surge of excitement. Maybe he's going to demand to marry me? "What will you do?" I ask him, excited.

  "I am going to remain here on your farm until we capture your stalker." He gives me a determined look. "I will remain in the barn and establish a temporary perimeter with equipment we have back at the station. If he comes to bother you, I'll be here to take care of him.

  I slump, defeated. No mention of marriage. Figures. At least I'm getting a protector. "You don't have to stay in the barn—"

  "I do," Rektar vows. "It will be best."

  I'm not so sure about that. But I'll take what I can get.

  25

  LUCY

  We drive his sled back into town, because Rektar doesn't want my stalker aware of his presence. If he sees a port official's vehicle, he won't come by. It makes sense, and so I return to the office with him.

  Khex listens to his plans with an amused smile on his face. He glances over at me, but I'm too tired and defeated to smile back or be my normal playful self. My mind is racing with all kinds of worried thoughts. Like…what if this Mezzak guy saw Rektar at my place and just doesn't show up? Rektar can't stay forever, especially not out in my barn. Even if I establish a perimeter alarm system, what then? I already know some chump's staking me out. My problem is that I don't have anyone to defend me except…me.

  I need a backup plan. If Rektar can't catch my guy, I'm either going to have to get myself a gun of some kind or I'm going to have to get a husband.

  My sled's waiting where I left it, but it feels like the world's falling apart at this point. To think that earlier today I was excited to come into town and see Rektar. To get a chance to flirt with him, push my cleavage under his nose and win his heart with my muffins. Yeah, well, the universe is laughing at me, because I did all those things and all I got out of it was Rektar in my barn so he can scare off my legit stalker.

  What am I going to do? I ponder that over and over again as I pilot my sled back to my house. I'm close to town but it's still a good fifteen-minute flight in the sled, just because everyone's so spread out on Risda. At my side, Rektar is utterly silent, and that suits me just fine. It gives me time to worry over my problem and to come up with solutions. I can pay for a bodyguard, maybe, and clean out my savings. Kiss my dreams of having a baby goodbye and pay up for a mercenary to come and protect my place until the threat is gone.

  But then I have to hope that the mercenary won't turn around and rob me, either. So that's out.

  Rektar suggested a perimeter fence, but those are costly and in my case, kind of pointless. Yeah, a perimeter alarm is great, but then what? I still have to defend against a trespasser. I need a better solution than that.

  The more I think about it, the more I realize I need a husband. It's the obvious solution. Now I just need to find an alien man that's decent, hard-working, and that I'm slightly attracted to. That combination is going to be hard to find. It's not that there aren't alien men out here on Risda. It's that…the whole “decent” thing is the tricky part. Most of the guys here are scum hiding out from a prison sentence or pirates looking to make a quick buck on illegal goods. I'm pretty sure most decent guys aren't hanging around on Risda for the farming life…which is why it's so disappointing that Rektar is clearly, clearly not interested in what I bring to the table.

  I let out a sigh of disappointment. Maybe Khex will want to marry me if Rektar doesn't. I'm not attracted to him like I am to Rektar, but he's pleasant and I don't think I'd absolutely loathe being in bed with him. I guess I could ask Rektar about that at least. Or if the two of them have a friend that might be into a human wife. Worst comes to worst, I can put out an ad or buy a bounty. I've heard it worked for other women.

  I'll broach the subject tonight, I decide. No sense in waiting on anything. Even though my heart is heavy with disappointment at Rektar's clear disinterest, my self-preservation is kicking in. I'll get through this, like everything else.

  I pull up to my house, and it looks so sweet and pastoral that I want to cry. I love this little place. I never thought I'd be a farmer, but I love the fresh air and the green fields and I don't even mind raising the Risda-type cattle, called simply meat-stock. With the bots to handle most of the backbreaking chores, I'm left with running things like a manager and spending my heaps of spare time cooking and baking. While I wish I had a little more to occupy my time—or some company—I'm happy here.

  And now everything has to change again. That sucks so hard.

  Rektar glances over at me. "I will do another perimeter scan, just in case I've missed signs."

  "Signs? Signs of what?"

  "Other males trespassing on your territory." He blinks at me, as if the answer's obvious.

  Oh lord. So now I might have several stalkers instead of just one? The thought makes me want to scream. I take a deep, steadying breath, close my eyes, count to ten, and then open them again, calmed. "How long will that be?"

  "Why do you ask?"

  I shrug. "So I can make dinner."

  Rek
tar pauses, a look of concern on his broad face. "That is not necessary, Lucy. I have brought protein bars to fulfill my meal requirements. I don't need to take from your supplies—"

  I raise a hand, cutting him off. "You're doing me a favor, and you're sleeping in my barn. The least you can do is come in and let me feed you properly." I smile at him to take the sting out of my words. "Not to mention, I'm currently overflowing with vegetables. I hope you're a fan of tahaari root, because I've got them coming out of my ears."

  "Tahaari root is my favorite," he admits after a moment, almost shy. "I would enjoy having dinner with you. Thank you, Lucy." He gets out of the air-sled before I can say anything else and heads off toward the barn, firing up his equipment.

  I just stare after him hungrily, watching his hard ass flex in his government-issued trou that hug everything. If he likes tahaari root, he's about to get the meal of his dreams.

  * * *

  A half-hour later, I've got a feast spread out on the table in my tiny kitchen. There's stewed tahaari root in a sweet sauce, tahaari root pie, with a crusty, sugar-like topping, buttered tahaari puffs, and tahaari soup. I'm just pulling a fat roast out of the oven when there's a knock at the door. "It's open," I call out, holding the pan with my plas-gloves and setting it down on the center of the table so I can ladle some juices over it. I've outdone myself with this spread, and even if I put on five pounds with the leftovers, I don't care. Ain't nobody to impress but me, and I think I look awesome no matter how much I weigh. "Come on in."

  Rektar bends over and sticks his head inside, giving me a concerned look. His feet are firmly planted on the step outside, and he reminds me of when I was a kid and we played “The Floor is Lava.” My house apparently is lava. "Are you certain you don't mind?"

  "Get in here," I say, smiling. "You think I can eat all this by myself?"

  He takes a cautious step inside, watching me with a wary expression. After a moment, he loosens up and his eyes go to the food. "You…made all this for me?"

  "No, baby, I made all this for me. You just get to eat with me," I tease, spooning a bit of the thick gravy atop the roast. "I hope you brought an appetite."

  He's silent.

  I look up, and he's got a stunned look on his face. "What? What's wrong?" A horrible thought occurs to me. "Did you find evidence of more trespassers?"

  Rektar shakes himself, the stunned expression fading. "Sorry. I wasn't trying to scare you. No other trespassers. I just…did you refer to me in a human form of affection?"

  A human what? I think for a moment, trying to remember what I said, and then I chuckle. "I was being casual. Sorry if it threw you off." I am absolutely not going to get hurt feelings over his reaction. I'm not. I'm not.

  "I see." Rektar watches me with that unreadable expression and then moves over to the far side of the table. He pulls out my chair and gestures that I should sit.

  Damn this man for not being interested, because that small, thoughtful gesture makes my heart ache with want. I pull off my oven mitts and set them down on the counter, then sit in the chair he's got for me. He scoots me in and then takes the other chair next to my own, watching me. Always watching me.

  "Don't wait on me." I gesture at the food. "You help yourself."

  He hesitates for a moment longer and then gives me a sheepish smile and takes the spoon from the stewed tahaari. I help myself to the closest plate, and for the next few moments, we're quiet, loading up our dishes. I'm not entirely surprised when the plate he sets in front of himself is absolutely heaped with food. One of the things I like about Rektar is that the man loves good food. I love baking, so to me, that's an important quality in a guy. I can't eat all of my own baking, but if I had someone else to bake for, it's not so bad.

  Rektar tastes the first dish and then moves on to the next. He eats a mouthful of each one before turning to me. "This food is incredible, Lucy. I'm honored."

  I preen at his praise, wiggling in my seat. I knew he liked my baked goods that I brought into town for him, but to hear that he enjoys all my cooking gives me a special sort of pleasure. I watch as he tucks into the food as if he hasn't eaten in months. Having company is just so…nice. Even having someone at the table while you both eat feels less lonely. I know many of the human women on Risda and we all keep in touch via comms and the monthly book club gathering but the rest of the time, it's an utterly lonely situation. It's one I thought I've handled pretty well up until this point, but having Rektar at my table makes me realize how much I need company.

  I really do need a husband. It's annoying to realize that, because I don't need help around the house. I just want company. Someone to talk to. Heck, I'd settle for a roommate. It doesn't have to be sexual…although I really do like sex, so that'd be a bonus. I take a few more bites, my thoughts focused on the problem at hand.

  Rektar clears his throat, and when I look up, I realize his plate is empty. "Is it all right with you if I have more?"

  Smiling, I gesture at the food. "Help yourself. I made extra." Looks like there won't be leftovers after all, and I don't mind in the slightest. Already, I'm thinking about what I can make for breakfast since he has such a big appetite. I have eggs I get from a neighboring farm and I could make a nice, fluffy quiche with some greens and veggies tossed in…

  "Truly, this is the best meal I have had in years," Rektar tells me as he sets another heaping plate in front of himself. He gives me a closed-mouth smile that seems warm. "You are very kind to invite me to eat with you."

  I sip my water, watching him eat. He acts like I've done a massive favor for him, just being polite and feeding the man. "Do you and Khex not cook, then?"

  "The military provides ration bars for our needs," Rektar says, and then takes another heaping bite of my tahaari pie. I hear the tiniest groan of pleasure from him, and it makes my insides clench deliciously.

  I take another bite, shrugging. "A ration bar is enough to keep you alive, but I don't imagine that eating them day after day is very enjoyable. You're more than welcome to come by anytime and I'll fix you a home-cooked meal."

  He glances over at me, and the look on his face is one of rueful amusement. "A ration bar is my home cooking. This is more of a treat than you know." Rektar gestures at the food with his utensils. "And it is taking all of my control not to eat all of it."

  "You need to work on that control, then," I tease as he adds a bit more of the root pie to his plate.

  He freezes, as if he's done something wrong, and looks over at me guiltily.

  "I'm kidding," I say softly, reaching out and touching his arm. "I don't normally make all of this just for myself. I made it for you, and it makes me happy to see someone enjoying my cooking." I give his lower arm a friendly squeeze…and immediately, that feels like a mistake. For all that he's an enormous chunk of a man, his arms are absolutely granite. He's not fat, he's just built like a brick wall, solid and thick. I feel flushed and want to keep squeezing that muscle of his, just because of the reaction it gives me.

  I pull away, though, because I don't want to be creepy after he's shown me he's not interested. Smiling, I reach for my utensils again and pick at my own food.

  We eat in silence.

  I hate silence. I get enough of that alone. I think about what he said, that ration bars are his home cooking, and I have to ask. "Your mother served you ration bars?" It seems a shitty way to bring up a kid, but what do I know about alien society? Even though my last owner was mesakkah, he was also very elderly and didn't talk much about his childhood. Surely it can't hurt to ask.

  Rektar goes still. His big throat works, and he swallows hard.

  Shit. "I'm sorry. Did I ask something inappropriate?"

  He shakes his head. "Not at all. It is just…my past is shameful. I was born a bastard to a lesser house. My mother gave me up shortly after birth so I would not bring shame to their name. My family name is al'Aira'n because I served at al'Aira Base when I was growing up. The enunciation at the end tells that it is a name assign
ed by my unit, not given at birth." His polite smile is faint. "It is a shameful thing and one that most do not bring up."

  "I'm so sorry. I really stepped in it, didn't I?"

  "Not at all." He pokes at his food, as if hesitant to eat any more. "But now you know why I am out here on Risda III."

  "Because you're a bastard?"

  Rektar nods. "No matter how well I perform as a soldier, I will only be able to rise so far due to the stain of my birth. This was not a post any logical male would want, so it was assigned to me."

  Jeez. "What about Khex? Is he a bastard too?"

  He chuckles. "No. I had a good record but a bad name, and so I am here. Khex has a bad record and a good name."

  "So he's a naughty boy?" I say, smiling. "And you're the good guy?"

  "Something like that." Rektar's smile widens.

  My heart aches at the sight of it, because he really is handsome. I love his big, broad features and his shy smile. It doesn't surprise me that he's one that plays by all the rules. I feel bad that life hasn't been fair to him, but then again, it hasn't been all that fair to me, either. Thinking about Khex brings me to a good segue, though. I pick up the last of the tahaari pie, which seems to be his favorite, and dish it onto his plate. I don't blame him for liking it—it's a bit like the sweet potato pie from home, but with a slightly spicier zing to it. It's one of my favorites to make, and normally I'd eat a lot more of it, but for now, I like feeding him. "So…about Khex. Is he…single?"

  "He does not have a mate, if that is what you are asking."

  "Got his eye on anyone in particular on Risda?"

  "Not that I am aware of?" He stares down at the last piece of pie in his plate and then looks up at me. "Why do you ask?"