Page 26 of My Christmas Alien Mate

"What can I do?" I offered.

"Could you hand me the pajamas over there?" She pointed at a pile in a corner made up of several pieces of clothing, but I thought I found what she was asking for when I spotted a fuzzy, warm-looking top and matching pants decorated with all kinds of animals wearing Santa hats.

"I'll be alright, Galexor," she assured me with a smile.

Torn between wanting to give her privacy and the need to stay and assure that she indeed would be alright, I made my way to the door. "Do you mind if I leave it open so you can call out to me if you need anything?"

"That would be nice. Good night, Galexor."

"Good night, Amber."

I left the door only partially closed and went back outside to the truck holding my newly acquired clothing, including a pair of ridiculous-looking pajamas. The red pants weren't too bad, but the red top made me look like the Santa I had seen in pictures. Except for the belly and that my hair was black and not white.

I used the bathroom to get ready for another night on Amber's couch, but before I turned the lights off, I snuck one last look into Amber's room. Soft snoring announced that she was out, and I tiptoed to the bed. I wasn't creeping on her; I just wanted to make sure she wasn't as hot any longer and was comfortable.

She wasn't hot; she was shivering. I pulled the blankets up over her and tucked her in, but her body continued to shiver.

A quick access of my data processor, which I linked to the human network, told me everything and more than I needed to know about colds. It mentioned shared body heat, and I liked that idea. It gave me an excuse to climb into bed and snuggle up next to her.

Myfeverbrokesometimein the early morning hours, and I woke to strong arms holding me pressed tightly against a hard body. I blinked and noticed the blue skin of his forearms.

Thankful that he had turned his camouflage off and was back to beingmyGalexor, I let out a deep sigh of relief.

Something hard was poking into my ass and my lips curved at the realization that alien males experienced morning wood like human men.

Had I not felt disgusting from freezing and sweating all night, I would have turned in his arms to see where things would lead us. As it was though, I moved carefully out from his grip.

He sighed in his sleep and a sound of protest left his lips, but he didn't wake. His still form was mesmerizing though, and I took a moment to fully take him in.

The red pajama top looked hot on him. It contrasted nicely with his blue skin. His black beard looked thicker than before and sexy as sin.

Shower, I admonished myself,shower,and maybe then you can…wake him with kisses? I liked that idea, liked it very much.

I slipped into the adjoining bathroom, which Grampa had added when I turned twelve, to take a shower. On my way in, I glanced into the mirror and winced.Maybe he doesn't want somebody with those circles under their eyes waking him, my mind warned. I looked like death warmed over.

The shower, however, revived me enough that when I glanced into the mirror again, it wasn't too bad. Not great, but as good as it would get, I supposed.

Thankfully, there were some semi clean clothes in the bathroom as well, since I hadn't been foresighted enough to bring some with me. I put them on and peeked around the half-open door. Galexor was still out.

Chickening out about the whole waking him with kisses thing and walking on tiptoes, I snuck into the kitchen to get the morning started with a coffee.

While I waited, my eyes fell on a basket filled with all the ingredients I needed for my baking endeavor. I was a day behind schedule, but determined, I decided I would make up for it and bake the day away.

Unless Galexor wants to go back to town, my all too practical mind whispered.Or maybe I can talk him into helping me, I argued with myself and liked the idea. He was here, after all, to learn things. Well, I would teach him baking.

From a high shelf, I fished out Grandma's old recipe book and, as always, marveled at her neat penmanship. The notebook was organized by holidays and filled with pretty stickers and helpful hints. She had had the entire baking process down to the last detail and listed the first steps before I even turned to the actual recipes.

Turn oven on, get butter out of fridge, get baking dish ready for fudge and so on. Most of the steps and recipes I knew by heart, but it felt good having the book next to me, as if she were here, cheering me on.

Low, old-fashioned Christmas music played from the radio by the windowsill as I tied my favorite apron around me and began measuring all the ingredients for Grandma's famous fudge first.

When Grampa and I first started following her recipes, we quickly learned the hard way that all the ingredients had already been doubled so we could make enough goodies for all the neighbors and would still be able to feed an army that never arrived.

For some reason though, that day I felt like I should double up everything one more time. I couldn't have said why, maybe it was a premonition or maybe just the holiday spirit, but I pulled four instead of two of Grandma's fudge dishes out and began adding the first ingredients to the melting butter on the stove.

Next came the sugar, and soon I was lost in mixing and creating, so lost actually, that I jumped when blue arms suddenly surrounded me from behind and warm lips nuzzled my neck.

"Hmm, you smell delicious."

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