“Oh, shoot,” she said, grabbing a napkin.
Payback’s head popped up through the cereal. His cheeks were stuffed full as he chewed, and milk dribbled from his nose.
“Payback,” she mock-scolded. “Your table manners are awful.”
She glanced over at Serac and smiled. He was still scowling at her, as if he didn’t know what to make of her. Not many people did. But dangit, she really wanted to see him smile.
She reached for Payback to clean him up, but he ducked beneath the cereal before she could grab him. She should have used the smaller bowls.
“Payback, you rapscallion,” she said. “Get out of there.”
His head surfaced again, glowing sky blue. Using four of his paws, he started shoving cereal into his mouth and chewing incredibly fast.
“Slow down,” she said. “You’re going to choke.”
“Parcels are sturdier than that.” Serac was still far from the table, and it was starting to annoy Kimmy.
“Would you please at least sit down?” she said. “We’re supposed to be having breakfast together.”
He eyed the cereal as if it might bite him, then the chair with equal dread. After a few moments, he sat.
“There, was that so hard?” She picked up his spoon and handed it to him.
Their fingers brushed, and even that slight contact was enough to send a rush of goosebumps along her arms. He had to feel something, too. He sat up straighter, his chest puffing up as he held his breath.
The same thing had happened a few times the night before. Just being close to him sent her body into overdrive.
She’d never experienced anything similar. It was like something out of one of her books.
Which meant she was probably imagining it—perceiving what she wanted to perceive.
“Eat something,” she said. “Oh, and you should know I’m a master at nagging people.”
“I don’t know what nagging means.”
Lucky me.
“You’ll figure it out,” she said. “Now eat.”
He took a cautious bite, eating as slowly as Payback was hurrying. His brow knit, yet again, and then smoothed.
“This is good,” he said.
Smiling at achieving at least that victory, she said, “I know.”
Serac finished his breakfast methodically, while she and Payback snarfed theirs. He watched her with an intensity that made her wonder if perhaps she wasn’t imagining things after all.
When they finished eating, she said, “We can head to Marvin’s now. If you’re ready.”
Serac nodded. “If I may ask a boon, please don’t mention that I can change my shape.”
“I wasn’t planning on it, but sure. I know I talk a lot, but I really can control myself about important topics. Like the whole ‘aliens are real’ thing. I’ve known for weeks and haven’t told a soul. I don’t want to mess this up for anyone.”
He nodded, his shoulders relaxing a bit.
“Is it a problem that you can shapeshift?” she asked. “I mean, I can tell Marvin you’re not a Scorpiian.”
“Scorpiians have used their abilities to become bounty hunters and assassins. They are very good at what they do. Unfortunately, their success has engendered distrust for all sentients capable of changing their shape.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Kimmy said. “Just because one group misuses their abilities doesn’t mean everyone with similar gifts will.”
His mouth opened as if he was about to speak, but then he snapped it shut and looked away.
“What?” she asked.
He shook his head, but kept casting glances at her from the corner of his eye.
“Wary,” he had said. She had a feeling he wasn’t just talking about the cereal. It seemed to be part of his makeup. Hearing him talk about how shifters were seen, she could see why.
“I like to wear black,” Kimmy said.
He looked her up and down, as if confirming her statement by reviewing her completely black ensemble. Black long-sleeved shirt. Black pants. Black boots. Black glasses. Black hair, though that was natural.
“Everyone takes one look at me, and they think they know who I am,” Kimmy said. “There’s a stereotype around here that people who wear black are moody or antisocial. A lot of people have given me grief over it or been put off by it, I guess. But I just like to wear black. What I’m using too many words to say—again—is that people need to let go of their preconceptions.”
“I’m not even from this world. How could I have preconceptions?”
She smiled at him and even laughed. “That’s part of what makes you so great.”
Oh, that was an over-share. But the way his features softened, his lips parting and that furrow retreating again, it was worth the momentary embarrassment. Besides, she meant it.
“My best friend basically looks like a doll,” Kimmy said. “Everyone thinks that she must be so sweet when they first see her, but she’s likely to rip off your head if you cross her.”
He recoiled, one hand going to his right hip. Maybe he usually kept a ray gun there. Kimmy laughed again and reached out to touch his arm.
Any excuse…
“With her words,” she said, emphatically. “Not for real.”
Slowly, he moved his hand back to the table. She gripped it and gave it a squeeze. When she tried to let go, he held on, and even interlaced their fingers.
Her skin rose in goosebumps again and her heartbeat picked up. She wondered if he could hear it and added that to the list of millions of questions she had for him. Her cheeks prickled with heat that spread down her throat and chest and…other places.
She had to clear her throat before saying, “I just want you to know that I don’t have any preconceptions, either. You start off with a clean slate with me. Just the werewolf guy I found trying to chase off a Scorpiian in my backyard. Sorry, space-werewolf.”
The corner of Serac’s mouth quirked. She was so close to getting him to smile. But then Payback jumped out of his bowl and shook his fur, milk and cereal going everywhere.
“Payback!” Kimmy yelled.
She pulled her hand free of Serac’s grip, which she noticed he seemed a bit hesitant to allow. Then she grabbed Payback and headed for the sink.
“We’re going to have to teach you some manners, aren’t we?” She glanced over at Serac.
He stared at her intently again—or rather, still. She really liked it.
He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yes, I suppose we are.”
5
Watching Kimmy clean up the parcel caused warmth to flood through Serac’s system yet again. It seemed to be happening more often as he interacted with her.
She had shared her den with him, clothed him, and now she shared her food.
His zyln continued to pace within him, as it had from the moment he’d awakened to her touch. Each physical contact increased his desire for more contact. More intimacy, on every level.
He reminded himself yet again that she couldn’t understand the significance of her gestures. On Centaurus-10, everything she was doing was a prelude to forming a mate bond.
She couldn’t possibly be interested in bonding with him. That knowledge did nothing to stop his urges to touch her, to kiss her, to claim her.