Page 17 of An Alien for the Farm

“Varek will not return for several more hors.”

“Ah.” Her cheeks warm some more. “Well, I mean, you’re welcome inside while you wait for his return.” She’s inviting me inside her abode? So trusting. But even though I’d never harm her, I’ll have to decline. It’s bad enough being in a wide open space and unable to take my eyes off her. Inside there, with four walls surrounding us, she’ll dominate my senses and I might do more than scare her slightly.

“Inside isn’t really clean with all the debris,” she continues. “I’ve just cleared the essential areas so I understand—”

She jerks a little when I pocket my tool and leap from the roof to land before her. I grimace and I’m about to apologize when I notice those blue eyes are glued to my arms, moving slowly to my chest, at the same time that her throat moves. Behind her lenses, her eyes are wide.

“It’s better if I wait here, Eleanor. The dusk is pleasant.” I try to keep my tone neutral, but the way her name rolls off my tongue feels too intimate, too familiar.

She nods, a bit flustered. “Right.” She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment. “Right. I’ll bring you some dinner, then. It’s the least I can do, having you work all day.”

As she turns to head back inside, I catch myself watching the sway of her hips, wondering what lies beneath that thin tunic she wears. I shake my head, trying to clear it. It’s no use. The thought of my claws ripping the tunic to shreds rises in my mind. Would she be soft all over? Pale all over? Would she sing my name in that way she does if I run my tongue all across her skin?

While she’s inside the lodging, I pace, trying to focus on anything but the way she looks, smells, and the memory of her warm, soft skin under my hands. Looking off into the fields, I take a deep breath and head within them, brushing the tall grass out of the way as I go. Maybe if I’m not so close to her abode I’ll clear my head. Clicks pass and my core-beat finally stops rising. I’m in the center of the field, petting one of the lazy oogas when I think I hear my name. Tilting my head, I look over my shoulder when I hear it again.

She’s calling me. Is she finished already? I never thought it would be that quick or I wouldn’t have walked all the way out here.

When her voice sounds far too close I realize she’s followed me out here into the field.

The moment she breaks into the small clearing the oogas have made, her eyes meet mine and my core-beat falters again.

“Thought you ran away.” She chuckles.

“I would never.” My words make her gaze dip and I realize she’s carrying a tray with two receptacles on it. I reach for it, giving it a steady hand as she murmurs muffled gratitude and looks around.

“Not much place to eat out here,” she whispers, cheeks growing warm again.

I glance down.

“There is only the grass-feed beneath our feet and the sky above us.” My gaze shifts back to hers. “It’s beautiful.”

She is. Not the grass or the sky. She’s beautiful. But I can’t tell her that. Not again. I’ve crossed the line too many times already and I’m starting to like this little female. She caught my attention from the first moment I set eyes on her.

Eleanor nods, gaze shifting to the grass and with a small huff through her nose, she sits, stretching her legs out before her.

“I guess this is okay,” she breathes. “God, I haven’t had a meal like this in years.”

I sit beside her, balancing the tray in one hand. It smells good. Some kind of stew. “What do you mean?”

Her gaze darts to mine quickly and she licks her lips before pulling them into her mouth. Her eyebrows rise and her eyes go distant as she reaches for a receptacle on the tray, blowing at the steam before taking up a strange, small scooping device.

“Well…I guess…it’s been a long time since I’ve felt free enough to simply…have a meal on my back lawn.” She shrugs again, but I don’t miss the note of sadness there. Wistfulness. It makes Eleanor’s petals droop. I don’t like it. And it’s my fault for prying.

“It’s been a long time for me, too.” I say, hoping the words help rather than worsen the situation.

Some light returns to her eyes as her gaze shifts to mine. “Really? How come?”

She seems more alert now, as if she wants to learn about me and it makes a nice little vibration move through my core-beat. Reaching for my own scooping device, I take my bowl and put a bit of the stew into my mouth.

“Mmm,” I groan, not even bothering to disguise the depth or rumble of my voice, “so good.”

Through my peripheral vision, I sense Eleanor watching me with slightly open lips. She’s completely enraptured and that part of me that’s certainly not an upstanding Hudoian citizen rolls my tongue over the scooping device, emitting another moan from my throat.

I hear when her breath stops. It takes everything within me not to slide my gaze to her and do it again while staring directly into her eyes. Because at this moment, I’m wondering what every bit of her skin tastes like. What she would feel like if I ran my tongue over her instead of this scooping device in my grasp.

She makes that strange sound in her throat again before she forces a laugh, blinking as she points her gaze forcefully to her stew. “Really? I didn’t have much time to prepare. It’s pre-made, and I assumed…” Her gaze shifts shyly to me. “With the fangs that you’re a carnivore? Omnivore, at least? That you eat meat.”

“It’s perfect.” Not the stew. Her. Each click that passes, she becomes more intriguing. So soft. Even her personality. What’s a sweet thing like her doing without a mate? My luck, I guess. Their loss.

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