An Alien for Her Heart (A New Home #2)

8. Varek

8

VAREK

G ods, I really am a fool.

I did too much and far too soon.

AGAIN.

As I watch Catherine hurry past me toward the whistling kettle, I’m not sure if it’s what I just proclaimed or the fact the kettle needed to be removed from the fire that made her hurry away.

Zynar said to take it slow. Warned me that if Catherine is anything like his human mate, that she might be hesitant. Skittish even. He said he’d had to let his mate come to him—a test for any Kari. One of the things he told me was that his kahl offered to drink this ‘tee’ beverage with him in the early days and that it brought them closer together. A hot beverage didn’t sound like something I’d enjoy, but if Catherine liked it, I’d drink an entire cauldron full if it meant she’d give me some of her time. I was to simply drink this ‘tee’ with Catherine and then get back to work.

Instead, I all but confessed that I want her pressed against me and that I’ve been thinking about it. Worse still, she doesn’t even enjoy ‘tee’.

Frakk me.

If she abandons her tee making and casts me from her lodge, I deserve it.

I grimace, watching her get two drinking receptacles and fill them both with the steaming liquid. She has said nothing since my inadvertent confession. The silence between us is deadly. Her throat moves as she turns to face me again, her gaze flicking to me only briefly, as if she doesn’t want to look at me for too long. It makes something ache in my chest. My core-beat. But I deserve the pain.

She holds up two packets of dried blooms. Her voice is so soft, another part of me tightens, and it has nothing to do with chagrin. How much more despicable can I get?

“New Horizons sent these in the welcome pack. I really have no idea what they taste like.”

Should I stand still? Should I lean closer?

My brain says to remain where I am, but something tugs me closer to Catherine anyway. As if every muscle within me refuses the distance between us. I lean in, inhaling the packets she’s holding. Glancing up, I see her throat bob, a slight almost imperceptible tremor going up her arms. The reaction isn’t one I can easily read. Am I scaring her? But when my gaze rises further to her eyes, something trills within me. Catherine doesn’t look scared. The look in her eyes isn’t one I’ve seen before, either. Beneath her lashes, those green eyes hold a depth of emotion that almost arrests me.

“This is calla,” I point to the tee petals in her left hand. Her throat moves again. “And this one is pargentum.” I point to the other packet of tee petals. She nods slightly.

“Any—” Catherine makes a sound in her throat as if the words got stuck and she needed to clear the blockage. “Any, um, any idea what they taste like?”

I lean back, standing normally now, my eyes narrowing slightly as I take her in. She’s affected by something. Was it what I’d said? Or is it…oh gods…

My core-beat skips a note. Could she be affected by me ?

“Pargentum has a strong scent. I do not know of the taste.” I tilt my head, watching her still. She brings the packet of pargentum to her straight little nose, sniffing deeply. Her eyebrows lift. “Calla’s scent is mild but sweet.”

Her unexpected smile makes my core-beat flutter. Her eyes find mine. “We’ll go with calla then.”

She turns back to the steaming receptacles, and I lean closer to see what she’s doing. Opening the packet of petals, she pulls out a few and drops them into each receptacle before getting a curved utensil and swirling them around in the hot liquid. The steaming water slowly changes color as if dyed by the petals within it.

“We have a flower back on Earth with the same name, so maybe it’s a sign.”

“Earth?”

There’s a subtle pause in her stirring, one that would have gone unnoticed if I wasn’t watching her so closely.

“Yes. My, uh, my planet. My home.” She glances at me for a moment, that one word seeming to ricochet in the room.

She still thinks of her old planet as her home. Of course, she does. Despite that she’ll never be able to return to it, it’s all she knew. Everything that occurred the day before comes rushing back. How she’d seemed to shutter when she’d mentioned her homeworld.

This isn’t a topic that brings back wistful memories. Just like me and Zynar, all Catherine must feel is pain when she thinks of the world she left behind. I grimace again. I’m supposed to be making her think good things, making her like me, not reminding her of the trauma she experienced to get here.

Frakk me. I’m failing at this.

“I didn’t mean to remind you of—”

“It’s okay.” She sets down the stirring utensil and places the drink receptacles on separate small trays. “Biscuit?”

I jerk my chin to my chest without even understanding what she’s asking. She smiles again and I swear a part of me melts. I’m somewhat confused, not sure where I’m standing but completely convinced I’ve destroyed this attempt at getting closer to her. But she hasn’t cast me out of her dwelling yet. There must be hope.

When she grabs both trays and a pack of flat meal squares she jerks her head toward the main room and I take it as an indication to follow.

The linen she’s wearing sways as she walks and my head tilts as I catch the faintest outline of her curved behind underneath the clothing. When she suddenly glances over her shoulder, my fangs could have retracted into my gums and I would welcome the pain. She caught me staring.

“Feel free to have a seat.” She jerks her chin at the broad table as she sets both trays down and puts the meal squares in the center. As she pulls out a stool and sits, I hurry to the one on the opposite side.

My gaze drops to the tee and ‘biskits’, wondering the correct etiquette for such a meal. Zynar didn’t go into much detail. He’d hurried off the line because he hadn’t wanted to wake his sleeping mate. I’m in unchartered waters here.

My gaze shifts to the crate of senzsi fruit I purchased for Catherine. It sits off to the side on the table and for a moment, my core-beat rises again, hope fueling each beat. But it only takes a click to sink. It’s not hard to see she hasn’t eaten a single portion of the fruits. I’d thought she’d wanted them. Their untouched presence is not a good sign.

My claws twitch as I rest them on the table, eyes shifting back to Catherine, watching and waiting for her cue. When she takes up her receptacle, I watch her lips as she blows on the hot beverage before taking the smallest of sips. As she sets it back down, my gaze snags on her lips as she takes one of the biskits and takes a bite. Her tongue is the smallest little pink thing as she gathers a few fallen crumbs from the side of her mouth.

When her cheeks begin to change color, turning an intense shade of red, I realize I’ve been staring again. Grabbing the receptacle in my fist, I ignore the heat as I take a big gulp of the tee.

I freeze. Frakk, it’s hot. My face twists as I force it down.

I feel like I’ve messed up again, my embarrassment growing. But then, to my surprise, Catherine laughs. It’s a light, melodic sound that fills the room and makes my ears perk up.

“You don’t have to guzzle it like that,” she says between giggles. “It’s meant to be sipped.”

I feel the tension melt away at her laughter, and a sheepish grin tugs at my lips. “Noted,” I manage to say, my voice rough from the scalding tea. I can’t take my eyes off her, and at the sound of the roughness in my voice, I watch her cover her mouth, trying her darndest to preserve my ego as she tries to stop herself from laughing.

The tee, the biskits, the world fades into the background as I watch her eyes twinkle with her mirth. Something swells within me that I can’t explain. Something that makes me feel like I could walk on air. At this moment, I realize I’d do anything to make Catherine laugh again. Her real mirth. Not the other times she laughs and it never reflects in her eyes. When she truly laughs, it’s like the stars are in those green depths. How much pain and hurt she must have endured for even the stars to stop shining there.

She sobers, taking up a meal square and handing it to me. My claw brushes her thin digits, sending a spark through my arm as I accept the food.

“It’s better with the biskit. Gives you something to chew. Back home I always—”

I go still. She does too. My throat tightens, waiting for the shadow of her past to constrict. Waiting for her to shutter and hide herself away from me. Waiting, my core-beat feeling like it’s going to fail, for those stars in her eyes to dim again. And they do. Slightly.

“I always would have some sort of biskit or cake on the rare occasions I’d drink some tee. And that was only when my best friend, a woman I met really early on before I got married, visited. God forbid she’d have a glass of wine or anything else. It was always tea.”

I release a breath slowly, not daring to engage in case I really do make her shutter. This is the first time she’s finished a proper sentence about her life back on her home planet. I’m thankful for just that. But the gods must be looking down this dawn and decided to bless me more because Catherine continues.

“It’s…nice.” She smiles and her gaze meets mine. “Thank you, Varek.”

I pause, the receptacle halfway to my lips. I finish the movement on the pure fact that it will give me more time to figure out what she’s thanking me for. I sip the liquid this time, taking a bite of the meal square as Catherine instructed, and chewing them together. It’s…surprisingly good.

Catherine’s smile softens, but it’s real.

I swallow the mixture and set the receptacle down. “For what do you show me gratitude?”

“For reminding me that…” Catherine pauses, her eyes searching mine as if trying to find the right words. “For reminding me that it’s okay to remember the good times, too. That even though my life has changed so drastically, there are still small joys to be found in the everyday moments, like sharing a cup of tea with a friend.”

Friend ? Poor soft little thing has no idea I want to be so so much more. But her words have me frozen. She’s said a lot. More words than I believe she’s ever said to me in one sitting. Is this success? Did this tee meal work? I stare at Catherine, my core-beat picking up in my chest. When Zynar told me to invite her to share a hot beverage, I thought it ludicrous. But maybe he was on to something. After all, he’s the one with a kahl .

My throat tightens as I swallow another sip of the tee, my gaze shifting to the leaves swirling in the bottom of the receptacle.

We finish the meal in silence, but I do notice one thing. Catherine meets my gaze more and when she stands to clear the items away, I rush to help. She releases a sort of breathless laugh as I set the items down in her meal preparation area. As I wash them, I hear her voice from the main room.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. You’re my guest.”

I pause in my washing, looking over my shoulder at Catherine. “It is no trouble. You have shown me kindness and shared your meal with me. The least I can do is assist with the cleaning.”

Catherine’s lips curve into a soft smile, and our gazes lock for a moment before she nods. “That’s very thoughtful of you.” Her smile doesn’t fade. She doesn’t look away until I’m forced to in order to complete cleansing the utensils.

I resist punching the air in victory. By the time I’m finished cleaning, I’m buzzing with an unseen energy.

I thank her for the tea as she follows me to the door. “It was my first time. But possibly you will share tee with me again?”

She seems a bit surprised. “Did you really enjoy it?”

I’m at the door when I turn to face her, that note of uncertainty in her voice making my gaze shift over her face.

She was worried I didn’t like it? Flurvian gods, if she knew how much I loved it she might not invite me in again.

“I did.” The hoarseness in my tone is something I couldn’t have removed even if I tried. Catherine pauses there at the door, her gaze directed at my chest. The spot heats under her attention. When her head tilts and she smiles again, I know it’s time to say goodbye. At least, for now. I must get back to work and she, well, she will go about her day as she usually did before I arrived.

Except, I wish this moment would never end.

My gaze falls to her lips and a small nest of crumbs at the corner of her mouth. My claw lifts, rising toward her skin where I freeze just a breath away from touching her. I feel the moment her breath stills, the soft feathering no longer brushing over my scales, and a lump forms in my throat, making it even harder to speak.

“May I?” I croak.

I believe she will say no. That she’ll shift away from my touch and wipe the crumbs away herself.

She doesn’t.

My core-beat leaps, the organ beneath it swelling as Catherine gives the slightest of nods.

As I use a digit to brush across her lips, it’s like the world stands still. The softness of her lips underneath my claw, the softness of her , only reminds me of all the thoughts that have begun to plague me. Of the thoughts that kept me up for the entire dark cycle as I fisted my shaft and thought of her.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

Catherine barely breathes. She’s so still, it’s like she’s frozen too. Those brilliant green eyes search mine. “For what?”

“For reminding me what it feels like, too.” Energy crackles between us. “I’ll head to work now.”

She barely nods. Her eyes are slightly wide, her lips opening slightly as my digit falls away.

I swallow hard, forcing my claw away as I turn and hurry across the porch and to the outbuilding, my mind buzzing and my shaft like a hard cylinder in my trouse.