by Cara Bristol
Another sigh. “Damn it, Barb—”
“Holly, please.”
We hung up, and I returned to my father’s bedside. Well, that hadn’t been the distraction I’d hoped for.
“Problems at the restaurant?” Dad asked.
“Nothing my assistant manager can’t handle,” I said.
“You’ve done very well. We’re proud of you.”
No thanks to you. “Thank you,” I said.
“I remember when you were born,” he said. “You were red-faced, squalling, shaking your fists. You came out fighting. You scared us to death.”
I blinked.
“We were two stupid kids, your mom nineteen, me only twenty. We had no idea what to do with a baby.”
I bit my tongue. They’d never learned, either. Other parents started out clueless but managed to figure it out. Of course, when you’re an alcoholic, figuring out stuff is a lot harder. And they were mean drunks. Mean to each other. They were never mean or violent to me, just negligent—and served as the worst possible role models.
“We loved you so much, but we failed you in so many ways—”
“Dad, you don’t need to—” I cut him off, his apology both painful and pointless. Regrets came a little too little, a little too late. I didn’t need an apology. I had needed stable parents. At least one.
“Let me finish, please.”
“Fine.” I stiffened my spine and clasped my hands.
“We were crappy parents. I was a crappy father.”
His admission brought a humorless smile to my lips.
“I hoped by now you’d be married with children of your own. That you would have somebody to support you in the way you need, in the way we didn’t. That you would have the happy family you deserve.”
Really? Really? Wasn’t this another way to abrogate responsibility? Sorry, kid. We couldn’t provide you with love and care, so why don’t you find it for yourself so we don’t have to feel guilty?
I almost jackknifed off the bed. Instead, I clenched my fists so hard my knuckles whitened. “Let’s not go there,” I said through gritted teeth. Just the mention of love and care and family sliced through fresh wounds. Kord was leaving for good. There would be no chance of ever seeing him again. It was for the best, but I was bleeding, and this conversation opened up the wound even more.
Seeing my parents never went well.
My dad reached out and covered my hands in a surprisingly strong grip for a dying man. “No, I have to go there. You have to hear this. Listen to me.” Yellow eyes took on a fervent gleam. “Don’t let the fights between your mom and me color your opinion of what marriage and relationships are. Learn from our mistakes and make better decisions. Do what we didn’t do—take responsibility for your life. Decide on a course of action and follow through. Don’t take the easy path; take the right path.”
Well, thank you, Mr. Homily! “I’ve always taken responsibility!” I snapped. What nerve. He had no freaking idea. I’d decided to free Kord because it was the right thing to do.
So, why did it still feel so wrong? Why couldn’t I shake the feeling I’d made a horrible, tragic mistake?
“With your business? Absolutely. With your personal life? Not so much.”
“You know nothing about my personal life.” How dare he preach to me? So mad, I started to shake. Perhaps he felt it because he removed his hand.
“Your mother hasn’t had a drop of alcohol in twenty-seven days,” he said.
I recalled she’d appeared less flushed than I’d expected, and her eyes had been bright and clear. Apparently, the soda pop she’d been drinking on my last visit really had been just Coke.
“Good for her.” I tried not to sound sarcastic and angry. I still reeled from the audacity of his fatherly advice, and, while twenty-seven days sober counted as a big accomplishment, my mother could relapse in a heartbeat. She had quit and relapsed many times.
“We both love you very much, and we want the best for you.”
“Okay. Can we not talk about this anymore?”
He gave my hand a quick squeeze. “All right. I need to take a little nap anyway.” He closed his eyes.
“I love you, Dad,” I said in a low voice. My emotions were in such turmoil, I didn’t know what I felt, but something inside forced the words out of me.
A slight smile curved his lips. “Love you, too, honey,” he murmured.
He never awakened from his nap. With Mom and me at his side, my father died a few hours later.
Chapter Seventeen
Kord
“You can let me off here,” I told the Uber driver.
“We’re not there, yet,” he said. “The restaurant is around the block.”
“I’m going to walk the rest of the way,” I said.
He shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”
He let me off, I released payment, and he drove away. I found myself in front of the jewelry store where my date had admired the baubles that fateful night. I couldn’t even remember her name, only how she’d been one in a long line of inappropriate matches. To my relief, she’d “dumped” me, and I’d followed my nose and heart into Barbie Q’s.
Being dumped by my mate hurt worse than anything I’d ever experienced. I would leave Earth, but I would take indelible memories with me. I would never forget her. Would time erode her memory of the Dakonian she’d once dated? Already she worked on forgetting me, refusing to see me or talk to me. My calls went unreturned, my texts unanswered.
Before I departed, I would leave her a gift to remember me by. My planet was known for three things: snow, ice, and rocks. As it happened, I could find those things here on Earth, too. A gift of snow or ice would melt, but there were all sorts of pretty, sparkling pebbles set in metal. I remembered how much my date had gushed over the earrings. Perhaps Barb would like a stone.
I entered the store, completed a purchase, and, with a sad, heavy heart headed for the restaurant.
Barb had made it plain she did not have feelings for me, and since there would never, could never, be another for me but her, returning home seemed like the best option. It would be too painful to remain here, to have her so close yet so far away. Better to just go far away. When I’d relayed our breakup to Jessie at the IDA, she’d pulled some strings and gotten me passage on a cargo ship headed to Dakon in exchange for working as a deckhand.
I’d said goodbye to Boots, handing her over to my brother’s care. Besides the fact that I didn’t trust Zither not to eat her, I couldn’t abandon her. I worried how she would fare in the ice and snow on Dakon and without animals of her own kind, so I hesitated to take her with me. I suppose I could have brought her back to the alley behind the restaurant, but Boots had gotten to the point where she liked regular attention. When my brother asked if he could keep her, it seemed like the perfect solution. She would provide him with companionship. With me gone, he would be alone on Earth. Hopefully, things would work out with him and Holly.
She and I had become friends, and she’d tried to help me with Barb, but, honestly, the behavior and thought processes of human females boggled the mind. How could Holly see Barb and I should be together yet not recognize she was meant for my brother? Earth females seemed to be affected by situational blindness. But my brother still had a chance with her—or at least he wasn’t ready to admit defeat.
Secretly, I’d hoped if Barb heard I was leaving Earth, she’d realize she cared for me and would ask me to stay, but Holly had disabused me of that notion when I called her yesterday afternoon.
“Did you tell Barb I was going back to Dakon?” I’d asked.
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“Um…”
“Holly? What did she say?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“She has a lot going on now. She couldn’t talk.”
The lack of a response had said plenty. “Well, that’s that.”
“Kord, I’m so sorry.”
&nb
sp; “I’ll drop by tomorrow to say goodbye to everyone. Three o’clock still good?”
“Perfect. The lunch crowd will be gone, and the dinner rush won’t have started yet.”
“I wanted to let you know Boots is with my brother.”
“That feral cat that hangs out in the alley?”
“She’s not so feral anymore.”
“That’s fine. I didn’t know your brother liked cats.”
“He likes that one, and she’s warmed up to him quite a bit.”
Holly snorted and muttered something about the cat displaying poor judgment. Yep, she was as blind as my mate.
I turned the corner, and my nose detected the smoky aroma of barbecue, but it was fainter than it should have been. While there would be few customers this time of day, Slade should have been prepping for dinner, and the scent of meat should have been much stronger.
As I approached the restaurant, I found out why. I halted mid-step and stared.
Instead of OPEN, the big sign in the shuttered window—the blinds were never drawn—said CLOSED, SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE. In all my employment at Barbie Q’s, it had never closed. Why wouldn’t Holly have mentioned the closure when I spoke to her yesterday?
Unless she hadn’t known. Unless the boss had issued a unilateral decision to close for the day.
The little flicker of hope that Barb would be here to say goodbye died. Would any of the staff be here? Was this Barb’s way of telling me I was no longer welcome at Barbie Q’s? Was she shutting me out of the restaurant the way she’d shut me out of her life?
I strode forward and yanked hard on the handle, nearly hitting myself in the head when the door opened. I stepped inside, passed through the vestibule, and entered the dining room. Most of the lights had been switched off, leaving the interior in shadow. Barb’s office was dark, and something covered her windows. The polished cement floor was swept free of the sawdust. Chairs rested atop their tables, and I could tell nothing cooked in the kitchen.
“Holly? Is anybody here?”
Click. Click. Click.
The lights switched on, and I looked up.
My jaw dropped.
Stretched across the windows of Barb’s office, a huge banner read, I LOVE YOU, KORD. I WILL BE YOUR MATE (if you still want me).
Chapter Eighteen
Barb
I crouched in the dark on the top step outside my office. My pulse raced to the nervous beat of my heart. What if Kord didn’t show? What if he came, saw the restaurant was closed, and never even tried the door? Maybe I should have tacked a note outside, that said, Kord, come on in. What if he saw the banner and turned around and left? After swearing we were Fated, Kord intended to return to Dakon, according to Holly. Did that mean he’d decided my issues made me too high-maintenance to deal with? Or had the terrible way I’d treated him succeeded in destroying his feelings? Or both? Could he ever forgive me?
The what-ifs and maybes were killing me.
The door opened.
The few lights I’d left on spilled over Kord’s form. “Holly? Is anybody here?”
I stood and hit the light switch. He looked up. He riveted on the banner first then me.
My heart stopped beating.
“If? If? No if. Yes!” he shouted.
I flew down the stairs as he rushed to meet me. I stumbled on the second-to-last step, but he caught me, and, instead of hitting the floor, I fell into his arms. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” I managed to get out before his mouth covered mine. We kissed like there was no tomorrow—or rather like there finally was a tomorrow—fevered, fervent, wet, the best kind of desperation. My tears trickled down my face, and Kord kissed them away.
He hugged me to his chest, lifting my feet from the floor, swinging me around. I tugged at his hair. Against my palms, his horns pulsed. The walls I’d erected to protect me from hurt, from disappointment, from love, had crumbled, and the emotion swelled, so much greater and more powerful. My entire body throbbed with need and want.
I desired nothing more than to tear my clothes off, and his, and surrender to the joy. But words had to be said. I owed him an explanation. I broke off kissing him and stared into his eyes. “I lost my way, but I’ve got it figured out now—at least some of it. Can you forgive me?”
“Of course. You’re my mate. I’ve waited my whole life for you. Nothing could change that.”
“I love you, Kord. I would be happy to be your mate forever and ever.”
I felt a little bump as my feet touched the ground. His gaze shifted to the banner then back to me. “To make our mating official, I must ask you.”
He dropped to one knee and pulled a black velvet box from his pocket.
My breath caught in my throat, and I widened my eyes. I began to shake.
“Am I not doing this right?” He looked uncertain. “The man in the store said this was the traditional Earth way.”
Tears welled. “You’re doing fine.”
“Barb Quintain, I love you. Will you be my mate?” He opened the box to reveal the biggest honking diamond solitaire I’d ever seen.
“Are you crazy?” I gasped.
Alarm flashed across his face.
“I mean, yes! Yes! I’ll be your mate.”
“Obah!” he cheered.
My hand shook as he slid the ring on my finger. He was still kneeling.
“Now, we’re supposed to kiss again,” I said.
He leaped to his feet. Our lips meshed together perfectly. I wrapped my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck. Smoldering desire ignited in a flash of heat. Carrying me, Kord bounded toward the stairs.
“Wait! The door, the door! We have to lock it.”
Unsure how he would respond to my gesture, I’d closed Barbie Q’s and given the staff a day off with pay. If things didn’t go well, I didn’t need witnesses to my humiliation, and if things went the way I’d hoped, I didn’t want gawkers. Closing the restaurant had been a stroke of brilliance on my part.
He charged to the front door and leaned over so I could set the lock. Then he bounded across the restaurant, up the stairs, and into my office without so much as a huff or a puff. I giggled and nuzzled his neck while stroking his horns.
He set me on my desk and then planted a hot, wet one on my mouth. Stepping back, he began to strip. He’d taken to wearing Earth clothing, but today he had on his buckskins. I appreciated the way the tunic stretched across his muscled chest and how the leggings hugged his thighs and ass. I liked more how the animal skins fell into a heap.
I kicked off my flip-flops and wiggled out of my T-shirt and jeans. Twirling my bra on my index finger, I let it fly then hooked a finger in my bikini panties and pulled them off. In two seconds, we were in each other’s arms. Like a positive ion to a negative, we bonded in a perfect attraction. There was nothing between us, not clothing, not pretense, nor my protective walls, and the sensation was so much sweeter for it.
“There’s so much I need to tell you,” I said.
“And I want to hear it, but tell me later. All I need to know is, you’re my mate.”
“Always and forever.” I arched my neck as he kissed my throat. His hands roamed over me, leaving no part untouched. He trailed his lips along my shoulders, kneaded my breasts, and teased my nipples, smoothed his palms down my arms, kissed every finger, and massaged my feet. He sought my pussy, stroking inside and out while plundering my mouth with his.
I teased his horns, loving the way they pulsed and swelled—and made his erection throb. I admired with touch and sight the hard planes of his chest and abdomen and the bulge of his biceps. I closed my fist around his thick shaft and stroked. He grew even harder, and his essence pearled at the tip. His eyes seemed to glaze over, and he swayed on his feet.
“Don’t fall,” I said.
I squealed when he slid his arms under my ass to scoop me off the desk and into his arms. I hooked my heels against his ass, and his erection docked against my pussy. A few thrusts, and he surged insid
e. I sucked in a pleasured gasp as muscles contracted around him.
He took three steps, my back gently hit the wall, and we went at it like crazed bunnies, thrusting and pounding, gasping and groaning, freed from restraints, consumed by passion.
My body convulsed in orgasm, triggering his, and we both cried out. We panted, clinging to one another as we recovered.
We kissed, mouths wide open, wetly, slowly, and then the familiar heat built again. His cock hardened. Those adorable horns throbbed. Holding me, he spun around and went back to the desk then set me on my feet. He entered me from behind, moving in a sensual slide, drawing out our pleasure, taking his old sweet time with long, slow strokes while teasing my clit and breasts, kissing my nape, murmuring to me in Dakonian. I had no idea what he said, but in his deep, rumbling voice, it was sexy as hell.
Slow-sensual turned white-hot as my climax hit like a fireball. I cried out, and Kord groaned, his big body convulsing with pleasure.
* * * *
Passion spent, Kord sat in my high-backed, faux-leather swivel office chair, and I curled up on his lap. He played with my hair, curling the strands around his fingers. Instead of teasing and spraying my hair into its beauty pageant “do,” this morning, I’d let it fall in natural waves.
I’d literally and figuratively let my hair down, and a bit of the old panic started to rise, but I breathed through it, and the fear dissipated. The first step to changing my life meant facing my fears. I had to make conscious decisions and eliminate behaviors that didn’t work in my favor.
Despite history and hurt, my father’s parting words had had an effect. True or not, blaming my parents for my rotten childhood wouldn’t give me a happy adulthood. Only I could change the future. I had to take responsibility for my actions, thoughts, decisions.
No more hiding. No more pretending.
I had a great guy who would rock my world for the rest of my life—if I let him.
“My father died,” I said.
Kord jerked. “Good Fates! When?” He tightened his arms around me in a secure embrace.
“Yesterday afternoon.”
