Page 6 of The Alien's Little Sister

I catch Stacy’s deer-in-the-headlights widening-of-the-eyes, because she’s seen this play out with almost every new female employee.

“I appreciate your kind offer, but—”

“Not offering,” I cut in. “Where you parked?”

“Where‘are’you parked,” Stacy mumbles behind me, correcting my English.

Does she bust her boy-man’s balls like this? She’s dating a super submissive kid who I delight in creating pet names for. This, Stacy does not appreciate. The boy seems fine, but he can barely form two words in my presence (he’s afraid of me—something I like about him) so I worry about his intelligence. Then again, I’m not confident his diction is what she has him around for. Which reminds me: I’ve been meaning to have another word with the boyfriend. I don’t know if her mom’s had the talk, but this besotted puppy Stacy is seeing is seventeen and in love. They don’t neck in the parking lot anymore, we’ve already had theyou-touch-her-wrong, You Dietalk, and it went well. So well, her boy spooked and stopped picking her up here at all for a while and Stacy managed to avoid speaking to me for nearly a week, which isn’t easy when all I have to do is lean over my desk and we can see each other, and it’s her job to hand me the credit card receipts every night.

Turns out you can do that without a wordandmean mug your boss like it’s part of your job.

Stacy’s too sweet to stay furious at me for forever though, and the little jagoff she’s dating got braver and eventually started picking her up from work again.

Unfortunately, it’s not legal for me to bar her from his vehicle. First time he showed up to take her home, I made them wait while I called her mother to verify that she’d given permission for this. She had. I don’t know what Stacy’s mom is thinking. But maybe she’s got our girl in an industrial-grade chastity belt. I didn’t ask, because questions like that would probably land me in prison for the wrong reason, but that’s about the only thing that would put my mind at ease.

Inara is searching my face, and it’s a struggle, but once I’m out of my head, I have to work to stay focused on her eyes. The rest of her is too damn cool to look at, her features—especially her curves, which, covered in scales or not, do everything in their power to catch attention.

They’re definitely trying to steal my attention.

My eyes have no trouble staying locked to hers the moment her next words leave her mouth though. “I parked in the woods.”

“Thewoods?”Stacy asks the question I almost bark—although she sounds more softly puzzled than pissed.

“Why,” I ask slowly, “did you feel the need to park in the woods, sweetheart?” I ask my new employee, who has no address, no ID, and who is giving me all sorts of bad feelings right now as she bites her lip and tries too late to avoid my eyes.

She waves a hand. “That’s not important.”

The fuck it isn’t.

“The point is, I assure you—”

Oh, here we go.

“—I’m fine, and I don’t need—”

Good God, save me from women who don’t need help.

“—your help,” she finishes, and I want to turn, walk back to my desk, and proceed to bang my head onto the walnut until I see stars or until women start making some fucking sense.

I don’t do that. I opt for what I think is a reasonable approach. Sometimes, I forget that it rarely works to reason with a woman. “You got it anyway. Let’s get Stace here to her car, then we’ll—”

“Mr. Shawnessy,” Inara cuts in softly, with what sounds like strained patience.

I can relate.

“I promise you, I’m fine.”

I nod. “And I’ll be right beside you to ensure that. Just let me get Stacy—”

“Matt!”Inara enunciates through her sharp teeth.

That’s when I lean in until we’re nose to nose. She’s tall for a woman. And her nose, covered in little scaly bumps? It’s cute. But I’m about to put it out of joint, figuratively speaking. “Keep up the attitude. It’s only going to piss me off while we do this.” I pause, letting her see I’m all sorts of serious.“You are not.Walking.Alone.We’re doing this.”

Inara’s eyes roll, the flash from her too-colorful irises to white orbs happening so suddenly that I flinch, and I hope she didn’t see me do it.

Stacy, still behind me, definitely did see it though, and I know this when she lets out a surprised little snicker.

“Can it, pipsqueak,” I warn her.

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