Page 4 of Her Alien Soldier
This was like those early, happy days, but had her heart pounding in a way she didn’t even think it was still capable of.
She strode behind the bar, greeting Julia, who was another of the human bartenders, a California girl who’d joined the military to see the stars, and then retired on Asterion Station to spend the rest of her time doing whatever the hell she wanted.
Maggie adored her, and they hugged in greeting. Julia filled her in on anything that needed to be replenished, any guests to keep an eye on, general bar gossip, and then looked at her curiously.
“You look chipper. Chipper-er,” she corrected, “since you’re a goddamn sunbeam every day of your life.”
Maggie laughed. “I’m talking to you, I got a new shipment of paper books, and there are no Tilesian bands performing today. Perfect day.”
Julia shook her head, laughing. “You’re adorable. Are we still on for tomorrow?”
“Drinking wine and watching classic Earth shows with my best friend? Nothing could keep me away,” Maggie promised. She glanced toward the door then, just in time to see the Altarian striding through. His gaze found her immediately, and their eyes met.
There was that heat rising to her cheeks again. And throughout the rest of her body.
She tore her gaze away from him and looked at Julia, who was studying her in amusement.
“Oh. That’s why you’re chipper,” she said with a laugh, and Maggie hushed her, noticing the Altarian walking toward the bar out of the corner of her eye.
In all fairness to herself, he was impossible to miss. It wasn’t like she was watching him, exactly. Because that would be weird.
“I’ve only talked to him twice. He’s waiting here for a Paraxian,” Maggie said quietly.
“I saw the note you left in the system,” Julia said with a nod, openly studying him before turning to Maggie. “Okay. I have a spa appointment. We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” she said with a grin.
“Nothing to talk about,” Maggie said, hugging her friend.
“I think we both know you’re full of shit,” Julia said warmly. “I’ve known you over 15 years and I’ve never seen you look like that,” she murmured in her ear.
“Hush. Bye,” Maggie said, gently shoving her away and laughing. Julia waved, glanced at the Altarian again, then wandered out, waving at a few other people as she went.
Maggie took a deep breath and turned to the big guy, who was in the same spot at the bar he’d inhabited the day before. “Ale?” she asked him.
“Please,” he said with a short nod. She went back to the cooler, came back, poured the ale, and slid it over to him, then used her reader to accept the credits he’d designated for the bar, and her tip.
Generous tipper, she mused. She’d noticed the same thing the day before.
He took a gulp of his ale, scanning the bar, just as watchful as he’d been the day before, before his gaze landed on her.
“Do you have a name? It’s weird to keep thinking of you as The Altarian.”
“Xarek,” he said, watching her. “Do you keep thinking of me, Maggie the bartender?” he asked in a low tone. A little extra rumble when he said her name. Although she might have been imagining that.
“I just meant… um. Having a name to go with the face,” she said with a nod, willing herself not to start blushing.
“Of course,” he said, and now she swore the corner of his mouth was definitely tilting up, just a little.
The big, gorgeous, grumpy bastard wasteasingher.
“I’ll start calling you ‘Xarek the waiting,’” she joked, and he gave a small shake of his head.
“A title I will wear badly. I am not good at this,” he muttered, scanning the bar patrons again.
“It must be pretty important. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone wait here for such long stretches.”
He took a drink of his ale and set the mug down on the bar. “It is. And I was the natural choice when we were deciding who to send,” he said with a shrug. He seemed to tense up for a moment, and then relaxed.
“Can I ask what’s so important? And why you were the natural choice?” She glanced at a server waiting for their drinks, and she held her hand up. “I’ll be right back,” she said, then quickly got to work mixing and pouring drinks. The orders had piled up a little, and she could have kicked herself. She never did that. Got so distracted by talking to someone she forgot to do her actual job.
