Page 31 of An Alien for the Farm

My throat is a desert as he leaves, and I’m only vaguely aware that his brother appears at the side of the house. He salutes me too, but I’m stuck staring at them like a frog in the middle of a lake on a lily pad.

Somehow, I feel like I didn’t just set any boundaries at all. Somehow, I feel like I just challenged the Kari. Challenged him to pursue me when being pursued is the last thing I want.

Or is it?

The night is quiet, and as I sit in my bed at the late hour of what I think is nine PM, I can’t get Zynar out of my mind. I toss and turn, the memory of his kiss, of his touch all culminating into a snowball that’s gathering mass as it rolls downhill.

Reaching for my communicator, I stare at it.

The notifications for missed calls from Xarion are still there, but I have no idea how to clear them. And then there’s the whole thing of having to create a budget and plan. I spend a good portion of the next two hours making a plan. The handy computer onboard the device is helpful with the lists and estimates. I’m thrown back to the days I used to have to draft large documents and presentations for the community college and didn’t have a device as powerful as this.

When I’m finally finished, I have a simple plan of what needs to be done to improve the farm and the potential cost. It’s a lot. A helluva lot, but I relax against my pillow with a new sense of determination. What’s it been? Three, four days here now? I’ve gotten a lot done, considering I only just arrived.

I even have…

Him.

Taking a deep breath, I tell the computer to show me the job ad and explain how I should transfer the payment to Zynar for the work he did. He truly did a good job. The roof fiber is neat and well-aligned. The true test will come when the rain falls, but I doubt there will be a problem. Even if there is, it’s not like it will be hard for me to find him. He seems intent on returning here.

I clear my throat to still the tremor at the center of my chest.

“Right.” I stare down at the little device over the rim of my glasses. “Now, how do I send the credits?”

“The job must be marked as completed by both parties before payment can be transferred. Would you like to mark the job as completed, Eleanor Taylor?”

“Um, yes. Yes. Please do.”

“Done.”

I wait. Seconds pass that turn into minutes. “Has the payment been transferred or do I have to do something else?”

“Payment has not been transferred because Zynar of the Korruk line has not marked the job as completed.”

“Oh.”

“Would you like to send a ping to Zynar of the Korruk line?”

“Um, sure, I guess.” I shrug. A ping must be like one of those pokes you do on Facebook. Just a little notification.

I’m wrong.

This is why I hate technology. Because my comm device suddenly turns into a dark screen before it shifts and I’m staring at what looks like a light in a ceiling. I bring the thing closer to my face. “What the…”

A low rumble makes me freeze, eyes wide when the image shifts, and I see purple and pink scales before Zynar’s face comes into view. Live.

“Zynar!” My heart stops and if I had more sense I would scramble to cut the feed to hide my embarrassment because ‘ping’ apparently means ‘call’.

“Everything alright, Little Bird?” He grins and my heart stops a second time. Pretty soon I’ll be pronounced dead if this keeps up much longer.

“Um, yes. Sorry to be calling you so late. I just…the roof’s not finished?” I put on my most businesslike, customer-service, polite heiress voice. “I thought it was.”

“It is.” He nods, and even through the device, it feels like his gaze is eating me up. I resist the urge to blush and probably that doesn’t help because I feel my cheeks heat anyway.

“The computer says you have to also say that the job is completed so I can transfer the credits I owe.”

“You’re going to let her pay for it?” I hear another voice say just as Zynar’s gaze shifts to someone out of view.

The device blurs as it’s pulled out of Zynar’s grasp, and I hear him growl right before Varek’s face comes into view.

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