Delivered to the Aliens: Cosmic Connections (4 page)

“The new gal in town who thinks people who live in the country are simple,” he said.

Sophia breathed a sigh of relief. “I never said those words.”

“But it was insinuated,” the man said. “You like that ten cent word, darling? Insinuate. I’m insinuating that you’re a little stuck up for a good looking broad.”

Sophia slammed her fork onto the counter. So much for friendly small towns. Her head sprang like a coil toward the man. “What is it about me sitting here, eating my lunch, makes you think I care about your opinion.”

The Corravian male was the most gorgeous person she’d ever seen in real life. Golden complexion and hair, lightened from working in the sun. Broad chest, strong shoulders, and a proud pair of twisting horns. His eyes were an arresting blue, the color of the prairie sky.

The man dressed like a cinema version of an Old Earth cowboy: light brown cowboy hat, plaid cotton shirt unbuttoned at the collar, rolled sleeves revealing skin tanned from working in the sun, shirt tucked into slim fitting jeans. A pair of grubby work gloves were stuffed into the front pocket. The jeans were tight and left little to the imagination. The bulge to one side implied he had a very satisfied girlfriend.

It took everything in her not to fan herself and sigh with unrequited desire.

The sparkle in his eyes coupled with the cocky grin said he knew exactly the effect he had on women and he loved it.

This was ridiculous. Sophia had an objectively gorgeous male at home, her husband, who seemed only too eager to get on more intimately familiar terms with her. Why was she making goo-goo eyes at this alien cowboy?

The alien cowboy winked.

Sophia squirmed on the stool, thighs squeezing together.

He was trouble. So much trouble. Sophia needed to talk herself out of doing something real dumb.

Typical good looking jerk thinks he can melt women with his backhanded compliments. There. That got her blood up.

“Do you need me to repeat myself? Because that involves my shoe up your ass,” she said.

His loud laugh echoed in the cafe. “You’re all right,
asali
. Zan,” he said, holding out his hand.

Sophia looked at it pointedly but did not shake. She didn’t know what
asali
meant but it sounded adorable and she did not want the hot, sexy male referring to her as adorable.

Wait. Really?

Zan settled onto the stool next to hers. His hat landed on the counter and he waved to the waitress. “My usual to go, Miri.” For a minute he watched Miri’s curvy figure while she had her back turned, making fresh coffee. Miri wore a short blue dress that hugged her hips and left no doubt she could bear healthy children. Her tail, a slightly darker tawny from her face, came out the back of the dress through a flap. Was it rude to stare at her tail like that? Did all Corravian clothing have a tail flap?

“How do pants work with the tail,” she wondered out loud.

“Asking about my tail already? My, you are a bold one,” Zan said, chest puffing up with pride. His own tail flicked playfully against her leg. Sophia batted it away with a frown.

“So, how are you getting on at the sentry post? You have everything you need?”

Sophia took a large bite of the pie and chewed slowly, making the irritatingly attractive male wait. “I don’t see how it’s any concern of yours,” she said at length.

“Well, I thought it was relevant considering how we’re married and all, but I must be mistaken,” Zan said with a grin that could melt her clothes.

Miri returned to the counter with his order. Putting his hat back on, he gave a wink to Miri and tipped the hat to Sophia. “Be seeing you around.”

Wait. Married? Sophia jumped up from the stool but he was already out the door.

“Married?” No, no, no. She was married to Alton.

Alton Zan.

Fuck.

Miri refilled the iced tea. “He’s just trying to get your temperature.”

“What does he mean married?”

“He’s one half of your Brace,” Miri said matter-of-factly. Sophia stared blankly at her. “You know, a Corravian Brace. Two males, one female. Like my two fellas back in the kitchen? Tradition?”

Nope. Not ringing any bells.

“Didn’t Alton explain that to you?”

“No, I can’t say that he did.”

Zan

“So what do you think?” Alton asked.

Zan picked up the beer and took a long drink before answering. The lights in the bar were dim but Corravians didn’t need much light to see. “She’s got a mouth on her.”

“That’s never bothered me,” Alton said. He leaned over the billiards table, cue stick in hand and lined up a shot. Drawing the stick back like a spring, he released the tension, sending the white cue ball across the green felt like a rocket. It nudged the red striped ball into the pocket.

Zan scratched the base of his horns, studying the table. Alton was so desperate for a mate that he pulled this mail-order bride stunt. Zan’s rational side understood that Alton had stooped to extreme methods because he reached his breaking point. His Brace partner risked destroying their unit for a mate. Zan had denied Alton’s desire for a mate and children for several years and he couldn’t wait for Zan to come around to his way of thinking.

That’s what the considerate, rational side of him expected.

The other side? The stubborn side was mad as hell that Alton pulled such a harebrained move and expected Zan to just roll over. Zan had legitimate reasons to not want a mate. He had always been upfront about it. Alton knew Zan’s concerns when they started their Brace. Alton completely ignored him in his selfish quest.

“I’m still only going to give her one week,” Zan said. One week to drive her away. One week to prove to Alton that they did not need a mate or the risks involved with vulnerable, fragile females. Better to live a solitary life, taking pleasures one or two times with a willing partner but nothing more serious than a fling. No commitment. No risk of heartbreak. Zan simply couldn’t survive having his heart break a second time.

Still, that Terran female had spirit. Spirit and fight was exactly what a person needed to survive on the frontier.

“She’s got a nice rack, too,” he said.

Alton nodded. “I’m more of an ass man.”

“See,” Zan said, picking up his cue stick, “how our tastes are complementary. I get the front, you get the back.” He circled the table, scouting for the perfect shot. “Did you notice how she bounces when she gets worked up? Adorable. I want her to bounce like that on my face. A good, angry, bouncy screw,” Zan said.

Alton grinned and waited for the other male to make his shot. A solid connection and the ball sank in the pocket. He said, “Too bad I’m her favorite.”

“How do you figure?”

“I’ve seen her without panties on.”

Chapter Seven

Sophia

Sophia checked the marriage contract first thing. The truck squealed to a stop in front of the house. She raced upstairs and found the information packet the agency gave her. There, clear as day, “Sophia Barber enters into a marriage contract with the Brace of Alton Whittix and Zan Faraden.”

Damn. In her haste, she didn’t read the contract carefully. She was married to
two
aliens.

A cold chill swept over her. Yes, it was obvious two men lived in the house. Alton always said “we”, never I. Sophia assumed he meant the two of them, together like a unit, not him and another male.

A pair of feral bachelors.

Those were his exact words.              

Make the best out of a bad situation. That’s what her mother always said. Make lemonades out of lemons.

How was it possible to make the best out of this situation? One alien husband. Fine. She made peace with the idea. Two? How would the logistics work? Did they alternate days? Neither one had been in the house at the same time so far.

Or did they do everything together? Like,
everything
everything. The idea terrified her and exhilarated her in equal measure. She didn't hate the idea. Actually, she kind of liked it.

Then again she was the worst judge of character. She lived with Derek for a year, after all. 

How the hell did she make lemonade out of all that?

Leave. That was always an option.

Sophia checked the balance on the credit stick. Hmm. Not enough for a ticket off planet. She was stuck on Corra, which Sophia was oddly okay with. Leaving seemed wrong. She’d only met Alton and Zan once, but they drew her to them. Well, Alton. He cooked and made her so deliciously flustered. Zan… Well, he just infuriated her. Besides, breaking the marriage contract came with heavy penalties. Sophia was too broke to leave even if she had the credit for a ticket. She could tough out the year, get her bonus credit and then go anywhere that tickled her fancy.

A year. That was nothing.

She needed a drink. Searching the kitchen failed to reveal a hidden cache of booze. Fortunately, there was enough credit on the stick for a drink or two.

Sophia slammed the truck door closed.

“Please state destination,” the auto-nav chimed.

“Any place with cold beer.”

“Unknown. Please be more specific.”

Sophia rolled her eyes hard enough to pull a muscle. “A bar. Drive. Now.”

The old truck rattled back into town. The low, blocky buildings all looked the same but she trusted the nav system to deliver her to the local bar. The sign over the door was in Corravian script but the nav system informed her it was called the Watering Hole.

Sophia stood in the door, letting her eyes adjust to the bar’s dim interior. Corravians had better low-light vision than Terrans. The bright sun of Corra explained why everyone wore tinted goggles to protect their sensitive eyes. Shadowy and vague Corravian shapes inhabited the bar.

Sophia approached the bar. Beers on taps and prices were written in Corravian. The bartender nodded at her, his horns a twisting silhouette against a sulfurous yellow light.  

“What’dya have?”

“Beer. I’m not picky.” She slapped the credit stick on the counter.

The male plopped a bottle on the counter. “We don’t get a lot of your kind around here.”

“Women who use booze as an emotional crutch or Terrans?” she asked.

The male chuckled warmly.

“I’m just looking for a drink, that’s all,” Sophia said. The beer was cold, which was the best she could hope for. She swallowed the bitter brew in a gulp.

She took the bottle and headed to a table. Drinking alone wasn’t the best example of problem solving but it sure made her feel better about her terrible judgment in men. Alton seemed decent enough. So did Derek and look how that turned out.

Sophia thought back to their conversation that morning. He didn’t flat out lie but he misrepresented the situation. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt but how many times did she give Derek the same benefit? Excuse away his bad behavior? Give him a second and third chance? Too many times.

Sophia was faced with the question of whether she was willing to let a man take advantage of her again.

Or two men.

Her gaze focused on the table top and the worn varnish, as if the answer could be divined from the wood grain.

A large figure sat down in the chair opposite her.

“Not interested,” Sophia said, not lifting her eyes from the table top. 

“Pretty little thing like you should be interested.” The male folded his arms over his wide chest, a sneer on his lips. His had a hard, brutal face with thin, pinched lips.

“I’m married.” Yup, legally bound to her Brace.

The male leaned forward and breathed deep, nostrils flaring. “You smell like Alton and Zan but they haven’t mated you.” Which makes her fair game, his tone implied.

“I’m married,” Sophia repeated. She flapped her hand in a dismissive gesture. He did not appreciate it.

“You hear that, fellas,” he called out to the room. “The little Terran is taken.” Two shadowy figures crowded her at the table. They dwarfed her easily. A hand patted her hair. Another stroked her shoulders. Sophia flinched, swatting the hands away. She moved to stand but a set of strong hands held her in place. The Corravian males towered over her diminutive human form.

Panic curled in the pit of her stomach. Coming in for a drink was a mistake.

“If she’s mated, then why is Alton running around with his little starter horns?” a new voice asked. The crowd laughed.

“Maybe he needs us to show him how.”

Oh no. Oh no. This was not happening. She refused to be a victim today.

The plasma blaster Alton gave her rested in her bag on the floor. She’d never be able to reach it quickly enough. She took a deep breath. The one thing she learned working the worst dive bars in Aldrin One was how to break a bottle and make the customers kept their hands to themselves. Time to put her skills into action.

Sophia slammed the base of the bottle against the table, leaving her holding a jagged piece of glass. She twisted and moved her arm backwards, pressing the broken bottle against the stomach of the male directly behind her. She held the gaze of the ringleader. She raised an eyebrow, digging the jagged edge in. The unfortunate man with a broken bottle poking into his gut, sucked in his breath.

“I suggest you leave the lady alone,” a welcomed voice said.

Zan faced off against the unnamed male. The two men stared at each other for a long, tense minute. Alton joined Zan, arms folded over his chest.

The other male sneered. “She ain’t that pretty now that I get a good look at her.” With a nod of his head, he called off the other two.

Zan stood still, hands clenched into fists, watching the men exit the bar. Only when the light spilled in from the open door did he visibly relax.

“You all right?” he asked.

Sophia nodded. Her heart pounded in her chest but she was unharmed.

“Those guys are assholes,” Zan said.

“They ruined my drink.”

Alton plucked the broken bottle from her hand. “Why are you drinking this swill?”

“It’s what the bartender gave me.”

“So you enjoy drinking dishwater?”

Sophia cocked her head to the side. “The menu doesn’t exactly have pictures.”

“How about I get you something better than dishwater.” Sophia watched Alton amble over to the bar. Zan settled into a vacant seat at the table.

“Gavis, Vinis and Linis haven’t been right since their wife left them,” he said. “Sorry you had to find out the hard way.”

“I thought Braces were pairs of two.” Not three.

“Deviants are everywhere nowadays.”

Alton arrived and handed out chilled bottles. Sophia sipped cautiously, pleased to discover a smooth brew.

“So,” she said, setting her bottle on the table. “When were you going to explain this whole Brace thing to me? Or were you both going to crawl into bed and see what happened?” A slow blush spread over her face as she spoke. Honestly, that didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Sophia pressed the back of her hand to her cheek. She was flushed. Must be the booze.

“I’ve been upfront,” Alton said, causing Zan to snort. Interesting. Sophia’s gaze flickered from Alton’s sincere expression to Zan’s skeptical face.

“I’m not opposed to two,” Sophia said. She picked up the bottle again, rolling the chilled glass between her hands. Her statement was true, which surprised her. Two mates seemed… right.

“I’d appreciate honesty from here on out.”

Also true. Derek was a liar, a cheater, a gambler and a manipulative bastard. Honesty from her new husbands was the least she could demand.

“I can do that,” Alton said. “But honesty needs to start with you.”

Sophia paused in her fidgeting with the bottle.

“What are you running from?”

“I’m not running.”

Alton shook his head. “See, I know the contract clearly states a Brace. Two. Either you didn’t care, but judging by how upset you are, you
do
care. Or you were in such a rush to leave that you agreed to anything the agency gave you.”

Basically, yes. That’s exactly what happened.

Sophia’s gaze went from Alton to Zan and back. The two men were of similar height but that’s where the difference ended. Alton was darker, taller and thicker built; his broad shoulders tapering to a slim waist. His short horns were in stark contrast to the tall, wildly curling set perched on Zan’s head. Zan was lean but muscular, a swimmer’s build. His skin tone was lighter and his hair a blond bleached by hours laboring in the sun.

The men were not hard on the eyes; that was for sure. Both were handsome in their respective ways.

As long as she remained on Corra, she would stick out like a sore thumb. She needed Alton and Zan to blend in. She needed this relationship to work, at least for a year.

“We don’t know each other,” Sophia said.

“Then let’s get to know each other,” he said. “What were you in such a hurry to get away from?”

Zan leaned forward on his elbows, intrigued by the conversation.

“I had a boyfriend,” Sophia said. Alton growled. Surprised, she paused in her story. “Had. It’s been over for a while. He wasn’t a good guy.” She gave the bare bones retelling. Bad boyfriend. Gambling debts. Thug friends. Kicked him out, finally, and needed a fresh start. She glossed over the more desperate aspects of being broke and out of options.

Alton frowned into his bottle and Zan’s lip curled with anger.

“So you can see why I don’t like surprises,” Sophia said. She set her now empty bottle on the table and considered her Brace. “Why did you use an agency? A Terran agency?”

Zan raised his eyebrows expectantly and glanced at Alton, who squirmed in his seat. Interesting.

“You know how small towns are,” Alton said.

“That’s not an answer. Honesty, remember,” Sophia said.

“Yeah,” Zan chimed in. “Honesty
is
the best policy.”

“Fine.” Alton rubbed at the base of his horns and gave Zan a measured look before speaking. “Zan and I haven’t been able to agree on a mate. I figured I’d let someone else make the decision and see what happened.”

“Gambling with your potential mate?” Sophia asked. It was dangerously close to a stunt Derek would pull.

“Letting smart people help,” he said. “Don’t you like me? I like you.” His flashed a grin, cocky and completely full of himself. Sophia distinctly remembered how he had her squirming in her chair that morning. Yeah, she liked him just fine.

“What about you, Zan?” Sophia focused her gaze on the silent male.

He took a long draw on his bottle before answering. “I’m willing to give this a shot.”

“Okay,” Sophia said, “but we need some rules.”

Alton nodded quickly. Zan remained still.

“Honesty at all times. Yes?” The two men nodded. “I want my own bed and my own room.” Less temptation if she had her own space. “I’ll clean, I might even cook, but because I want to live somewhere nice, not because I’m your maid.” More nods. “I’d like to get a job and earn my own money.”

“We have money,” Alton said.

Sophia’s lips twitched in a smile. He was so eager. “My own. It’s a pride thing. Sound good?” Sophia held out her hand for a shake.

“Agreed,” Alton said. He looked at her outstretched hand quizzically before gripping it by the fingers and giving it a pump.

Sophia turned to Zan. He nodded and gave the same clumsy handshake.

Zan

Alton hid his unease well but Zan saw it in the way his fingertips drummed the table. And the way his eyes never left the Terran woman. Sophia, Zan prompted himself. Her name was Sophia. The vowels and consonants wanted to roll around on his tongue, letting him savor the taste and shape of her name. That wasn’t the only rolling around and tasting he wanted to do.