Page 16 of Whisked Away By the Alien

When I turn around, Sten is shredding the potatoes with the skins still on. And he hasn’t washed them.

“Ah, Sten? I’m guessing you never cooked potatoes before.” I’m wondering what to do at this point. The war and occupation are over, but that doesn’t mean we waste food. “We need to wash and peel the potatoes first.”

When he looks at the potatoes he’s already shredded and frowns, I add, “It’s my fault. I didn’t instruct you properly.”

“I should have informed you of my lack of experience in this matter.”

“You asked for instructions. I screwed up, not you. Either way, it’s fine. We can fix this. And don’t feel bad. We’re getting used to working together, that’s all. Here…” I grab a bowl of cold water and plop the shredded potatoes in. “We have to soak the potatoes to remove the starch, anyway. A little dirt never hurt anyone, right? Though Bubbe might disagree, so let’s keep that missed step a secret.”

His frown deepens. Stenikov’s so wonderfully expressive. “I wish to meet this Bubbe.”

“Oh, you will. Tomorrow night at dinner.”

Sten’s back straightens and the fingers of his right hand slide back and forth over a knife sheathed at his waist. I hope I didn’t stress him about the potatoes. I forgot I have a novice here, at least as far as cooking human food.

“What can you do, besides hunt and throw knives?”

I don’t really need him to cook. I can handle this by myself, but I don’t want to see Sten out of a job. If he can’t cook, then I’ll find something else more suited to his talents.

“I know how to take orders, Commander.”

Ooh, he’s so cute. I’m starting to like that nickname, too. Hell, I’m really starting to likehim.

I’m soooo tempted to give him an order that’s not cooking related. My furtive eyes glance at his crotch. The apron’s covering him nicely. While intentionally tempting a guy has never been my thing, I can’t help myself with Stenikov.

“Ah-hm.” Someone clears a throat outside the kitchen. “I’m now walking into the kitchen,” Mom says loudly. This is why I’m not adept with subtlety. Mom is a horrible role model.

“Come in, Mom. We’re starting the latkes.”

The door opens part way, and a head pops through. When she sees we’re draining the water from the shredded potatoes, she enters.

“Sadie’s asleep in the stroller. I left a message for your father. He won’t be back from his trip until tomorrow, but I spoke with Charlie. He assures me we are perfectly safe with Warrior Zelin. Since my husband intended for you to sleep at our house during your time in New York, you may have Golda’s old bedroom. Golda, you will sleep in my bed with me.”

That sounds like a good idea, but I don’t trust myself in the same house with Sten. His scent has been driving me crazy all day and I have this incessant itch to touch him. Once I touch him, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.

“I have to check in at work tonight, Mom, so I’ll stay at my place.” I wonder if she’ll see through the lie and push me to stay here. If she knew how attracted I am to Sten, she’d forbid me from staying. I haven’t dismissed sleeping here as an option for later in the week…

CHAPTERSIX

STENIKOV

Iwake to the sound of a youngling crying for attention. For a brief moment, I think I’m at my sister Maza’s home with her youngling waking me in the middle of the night, but this is not Zyan.

One more cry has me on my feet, fully dressed and debating if I should enter Sadie’s room and see to her needs. Doing so might alarm Mrs. Birnbaum after what happened last night. Golda and her mother had eaten a modest meal, an item they called sandwiches, while I walked through the neighborhood, determining the best defensive positions and escape routes should they become necessary. I always strive to learn from my mistakes, and I don’t want what happened in Los Angeles to happen here. While Golda and her family aren’t witnesses under my protection, I would still defend them with my life.

When I returned from learning the area, a plate with a large cut of meat and a pile of roots they called carrots and potatoes awaited me. Golda said I needed to keep my strength up for the week I’d have here. I’m not sure what she meant by that as this is a fairly easy assignment.

Before I had a chance to eat the meal Golda prepared, she left to go to her workplace. I’d watched her from the window, not even distracted by her lovely backside swaying as she walked down the street. I worried for her safety as she ventured out into this city full of irrational and dangerous humans.

Mrs. Birnbaum caught me watching Golda from the window and asked why I was spying on her. I told her the truth, that I worried about Golda’s safety. Mrs. Birnbaum chuckled, saying her daughter grew up in New York City and that made her savvy enough to avoid trouble, but she remains suspicious of me. I ignored my instincts to catch up with Golda and escort her, all to prevent a misunderstanding with her mother. My behavior troubles me. I must remain true to who I am as a warrior.

When I hear Mrs. Birnbaum across the hall quieting the youngling, I head downstairs, seeking a task to keep my mind off Golda.

“Stenikov?” Mrs. Birnbaum calls down to me. “Help yourself to breakfast.”

“I do not require nourishment at this time,” I call back up to her as I mindlessly organize cans of food in the pantry.

“Don’t be shy. A big guy like you needs food. You’re practically wasting away.”

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