Page 41 of An Alien for the Future

“Lira’an, you should be resting.”

I try not to react to the warmth that spreads through me at the sound of that deep voice. He’s called me that name before. I’m still lost as to what it means.

“I’ve had plenty of rest, thanks to you.” I glance at him, still pretending that I’m busy pruning the flowers. “Your soup really helped.”

“Did it?” He sounds surprised and I try not to look at the way he leans on the scythe thing as if it’s completely natural for him to be out here, shirtless, working under the sun. “I am pleased.”

I snort. “You talk like you’re surprised.”

He doesn’t answer immediately, giving me no choice but to glance his way again. When I look at him, I swear his scales are a little darker.

“It was my first attempt at preparing sustenance for another being.”

I snort again, not believing him. “Well, I’m lucky it turned out so well, I guess.” But then I sober, my eyes truly meeting his. “Thank you. For earlier. You didn’t have to rush to my aid.”

He watches me for a few beats, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking behind those eyes of his. “You didn’t have to come help me in that zimi bush either.”

His words kill whatever I was thinking to say next. My lips shift into a begrudging smile as I turn away from him once more, actually picking some dead leaves off the plants now. “I guess we can call it even then.”

It’s so silent I think he’s gone off to the barn to put the scythe away. For some reason, I start to sing, something that only happens when my heart is light and I’m happy. It’s not Otis Redding this time. It’sSummertimefrom Porgy and Bess. Mystrong contralto rises as I turn to the other plants and pick some dead leaves off it too.

The first stanza rolls from my throat like melted chocolate. Rich and oh so good. My whole body feels the melody as I pull it from my soul.

I’m about to start the next stanza when I finish working on the plants and turn to find Tovan still standing there. I stop short, the song in my throat and my heart beating hard. I don’t often sing for others to hear. That awful ex wasn’t the only one to make me push back my dreams of a career in the arts, and I suppose my confidence has waned over the years.

“Tovan, I thought you walked off.”

His gaze falls to my lips. “Your voice…” is all he says, and I wish he would continue. What about my voice? He’s mentioned it before, too. Said it’s what drew him to me. That I disrupted his scanner or something.

“Ah yes.” I huff a small laugh through my nose before stepping off the porch and heading toward the well. “If I’d known you were still standing there, I wouldn’t have belted out my heart like that.”

I only assume he’s following me. For such a big male, he’s so silent. Careful not to stand on the maintenance hatch for the well, I turn on the spigot like Xarion taught me to and fill a bucket waiting there. From the corner of my eye, I spot Tovan watching me.

Just the outline of his form there, his masculinity in my space, and I’m completely aware of him.

“Why?”

I don’t immediately understand what he’s asking.

“Your voice is rich.”

His praise makes a slight tremble go through me, or it might be the sudden gust of wind that whips around us, tugging at myclothes. I blink against the unexpected force, my grip tightening on the bucket handle.

“Thank you,” I manage, my voice nearly lost in the wind. “I don’t…sing much these days.” Not with an audience, at least.

I try to take a step towards the vegetable patch I’ve been working on, determined to water the sprouts despite the weather’s interference. The wind picks up again, stronger this time, and I struggle to keep my footing. The water in the bucket sloshes dangerously close to the rim.

Before I can take another step, I feel Tovan’s presence behind me, his large frame suddenly enveloping mine. His arms reach around me, his claws covering my hands on the bucket handle. For a moment, I’m frozen, hyper-aware of every point of contact between us.

“Let me.” His breath is warm against my ear. “You should be resting.”

A shiver runs through me and not because of the wind. I let go of the bucket, allowing Tovan to take its weight. As I do, my back brushes against his chest, and I have to stifle a gasp at the feeling of his scales, even through the barrier of my dress. I can feel the heat of him, the solid strength of his body, and something deep within me—heck, forget poetry—my clit throbshard.

I step away quickly, my heart racing. To distract myself from the lingering sensation of his touch, I speak far too quickly. “I used to sing all the time, actually. When I was younger, I even dreamed of making a career out of it.”

Tovan looks at me with interest as he easily carries the heavy bucket towards the vegetable patch. “What changed?”

The question catches me off guard. I follow him, wrapping my arms around myself as another strong gust of wind buffets us. “Life,” I say after a moment. I don’t want to tell him I put my dream behind me for something much more stable. That thefact I had no one believing in me made me not believe in myself. “Dreams don’t always pan out the way you expect them to.”

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