Page 35 of An Alien for the Farm

A tear slides out with my soft laugh. I’m not quick enough to wipe it away before Zynar catches it. His fangs bare slightly in a growl.

“It is a horrible gift.”

“No!” I choke. “It’s the best gift you could have given me. Even though I don’t deserve it at all. You didn’t have to bring me anything.”

“I wanted to.” There’s a depth to his voice that makes me wipe at my eyes before looking up at him again. There, our gazes lock for what feels like time-suspended moments.

I’m in trouble, aren’t I.

I’m blinking back a whole train of emotions when the tilgran nearby, Bob, suddenly dips his head over the perimeter fence. He dives straight for the flowers but Zynar is faster. He stretches his arm out of the way before glaring up at the animal. The moment is broken and I pull fresh air into my lungs as I breathe again, wiping at my eyes once more as I watch Zynar and Bob go in a sort of stand-off, both staring at each other. Well, Zynar staring the animal while the stubborn tilgran still stretches for the flowers. Realizing it won’t be reaching them, Bob blows a raspberry.

Eyes wide in humorous shock, my hands fly to cover my mouth as Bob dives and takes a lock of Zynar’s hair into its mouth instead. I’m tense, hesitating, waiting for Zynar to blow up and get angry, disgusted, but…he doesn’t.

“Pesky animal,” Zynar grunts, a grin on his face as he lifts his free hand to pat the tilgran’s long neck. And it seems the animal was merely eating his hair to piss him off, because the moment Zynar doesn’t react in anger, it seems to grow bored. One lingering look at the flowers, it blows another raspberry before it lumbers off to snatch a mouthful of hay from a lazily feeding ooga.

“Bully,” I chuckle. I’ve never seen a creature with more personality. Laughter still on my lips, my gaze shifts to Zynar. He makes a face as he touches his hair, saliva coming off on his fingers as he does the equivalent of an “ew” look.

I press my hands over my mouth again, resisting the urge to laugh, and his gaze shifts to mine.

“You find this funny, Little Bird?” It takes me only a second to spot the mischievous teasing tone in his voice and my entire body comes alert.

“What?” I drop my hands at my sides, my gaze shifting to the tilgran saliva on his fingers then back to him.

Zynar grins, devastatingly handsome, and gestures with his hand. He takes a step forward and I don’t know why my heart skips a beat. I take a step back, heart beating harder, just before his lips curve into a devilish grin.

“Maybe you should get some on your mane too, then we can both scold the tilgran together.” Zynar grins.

“What? Ew, no!”

His eyes twinkle and I know I must run.

I don’t know why, but I do. I turn and I run, a laugh choking from within me.

“What are you doing?!” I scream as I look over my shoulder to see Zynar’s actually coming after me, laughter on his lips. He’s not even running fast. He’s letting me run. Catching my eye, he lets out a whoop and laughter chokes some more from my throat.

“No! Wipe your hands off! That’s nasty!” I’m still laughing though as I round an ooga to find Zynar’s still chasing me. I let out a shriek, laughing more than I have in the last ten years as I cut through the tall grass and curve around another ooga. It’s been a long time since I’ve run. A long time since I’ve felt pure freedom like this and the wind in my hair. I glance behind me and adrenaline shoots through me, sending my heart up into my throat when I catch sight of Zynar’s purple scales not even a foot at my back.

I squeal as his arm wraps around me and we tumble into the soft grass. Breaths heave from my chest as we roll. I land on my back with Zynar above me, laughter still choking through my throat as I try to breathe at the same time.

My lids are low, a big smile on my face as Zynar’s face appears above mine. The sun shines through the blades of grass, creating narrow shadows that play over his features. And in that moment, the world slows down. I sober. It’s just me and him, complete silence around us. His smile falters as his gaze shifts to my lips and I become aware of the position we’re in.

Professional. We’re supposed to keep this professional. This doesn’t feel professional at all.

He’s pressed against me as he balances up on his arms, and as more awareness fills me, I feel the jerk of something hard against my inner thigh. I go still, my eyes widening slightly even as my chest heaves.

Professional? Certainly not.

But Zynar doesn’t press in. Doesn’t press his hardness against me and blow it off as an accident, even though he could. He doesn’t try to make this moment more than it could be. Instead, he eases off me a bit, shifting so he kneels over me instead. I try not to look, but my gaze slides down, anyway. There’s a clear tent in the center of his pants. My throat goes dry.

“You’re fast,” he murmurs.

I blush. “Oh please. I haven’t run like that in years.”

Wiping away the tilgran saliva in the grass, he hands me the bouquet with the other hand. I only notice then that the bases of the stems are wrapped. The flowers have roots. I’ll be able to plant them. More emotion swells within me.

“Thank you. For the flowers.” I take them. I almost say it’s been a while since anyone’s bought me flowers. That I’d been hearing for years that I had enough in the garden, why on Earth would I want money wasted buying me more. That I used to buy them for myself, but it just never felt the same. But I don’t say anything. Somehow, it feels like dwelling on that memory, even bringing it up now, will taint the purity of Zynar’s gift.

I bring the bouquet to my nose as Zynar shifts and rises. One hand outstretched, he helps me to my feet.

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