Page 5 of What Makes an Alien a Dad?

“I’d rather stay here,” she said softly. Her bottom lip trembled. She looked utterly miserable once again.

He rubbed his forehead, trying to figure out what to do about this situation.

“Should I call Alcus Hecear?”

Representative Alcus Hecear was everything Kear was not—smiling, diplomatic, tactful, a people person in every way. As the Head of the Liaison Committee, Alcus was involved in dealing with any problems occurring in human-Voranian relationships. Humans loved him. Voranians respected him. He would know how to coax Maya out of this bush.

Kear turned on his tablet, ready to request Alcus’s contact.

“No. Don’t.” She sighed. “I don’t want to make a scene. It’s not a big deal.” Getting on all fours, she finally crawled out of the bushes, then retrieved her tablet. “I’ll just go back to my apartment now.”

He couldn’t let her out of his sight, not while she looked so miserable, like an ulto pup pulled out of water.

“Why don’t you have lunch with me?” He blinked in shock at his own proposition.

He always ate alone, unless it couldn’t be helped, like during formal meetings or official functions. He certainly didn’t remember ever inviting anyone to share a meal before. But he couldn’t trust his subject to eat something nutritious if he allowed her to return to her apartment on her own. He suspected she’d just cry again and miss lunch completely. It was best to feed her where he could supervise her food intake.

“What’s your favorite Voranian food?” he asked. “Today, I’ll allow you to have whatever you like on top of your pre-planned meal.”

“Really?” Her smile was sad and rather pitiful, but it was so much better than tears. “Anything I like? Even if it’s not on the list of approved stuff?”

He hesitated. The list was there for a reason. He’d personally compiled it, matching human ingredients to Voranian ones to ensure a proper mix of nutrients for her.

“Is there something you’d like outside of that list?” he asked tentatively.

“Ice cream,” she replied way too quickly. She’d clearly had it in mind for some time now. “Or whatever closest substitute you have for it in Voran. Frozen cream with sugar, chocolate, and caramel sauce.”

His translator implant fired off the Voranian substitutes of the ingredients she’d listed. None of them were on the list of the approved foods, because all of them would wreak havoc on her system.

He stared at her in horror. The woman was a menace to herself.

“How about some frozen cultured milk with fruit juice and berries instead?” he suggested. She made a face, and he added quickly, “That’s as close a substitute as you’ll get in my clinic.”

She dropped her shoulders and silently followed him to the order counter of the rooftop café as if he were leading her to an execution.

Why did it bother him so much to see her upset?

“Fine.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll let them sweeten it.”

She perked up, glancing at the order screen from around his bicep. “You’ll add sugar?”

Absolutely not.

“A tree nectar from the planet Tragul,” he named a much healthier alternative to the sweetener that she referred to. “It contains traces of several useful nutrients, at least.”

“But what does it taste like?”

“Like flowers. You’ll like it.”

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