Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Robyn gave the front door a gentle shove closed with her foot. Ah. Home, sweet home.
Time enough for a quick bath before she walked over to Meryl’s house, a block away. She dropped her purse on the sofa and carried the mail into the kitchen.
“Bill…bill…real estate postcard…junk…magazine renewal…” Why did she still bother getting the home decorating magazine? Because I like the tactile experience. “…junk…junk—”
The rap of knuckles against her front door drew a groan from deep inside. Guess Kevin wasn’t finished talking. Once an idiot….
No, no, no. She’d sworn she’d never treat anyone the way Kevin had treated her, and that promise had included Kevin. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t give him a piece of her mind.
She stomped toward the door, grasped the knob, and yanked the door open. “Why, Kevin? Why can’t you just…? Ohh.”
Man-nipples. She was looking at man-nipples, not Kevin’s face. How…unexpected.
A vaguely nutmeggy scent floated on the subtle evening breeze as she tipped her head back, and back, and back.
Her gaze roved over the leather straps across a smooth, bare chest, until she met the piercing ice-blue gaze of her rather enormous…
and ridiculously handsome…visitor. The guy had to be pushing seven feet; too tall to pass through her doorway without ducking.
And his hair—which wasn’t really hair, but more like fine, sleeked-back feathers—ran over his head from a low widow’s peak back. A lot like a bald eagle, but with more silver and gray than white.
“Good evening, Ms. Donahue.” Her ridiculously handsome visitor had a ridiculously deep and sexy voice. The kind of voice that reached out and caressed her in all the places she hadn’t been caressed in, well, way too long. And never properly.
A subtle motion drew her attention to something big, silvery-white, and feathery behind his broad shoulders.
Her breath hitched in her chest. “OhdearGod!”
She slammed the door shut, the bang cracking through the quiet of the house.
Breathe, Robbi. Breathe.
But the guy has wings!
Honest-to-God wings. What was she supposed to do with this?
Help…she needed help. Meryl. Yes, Meryl would know what to do.
She rushed to the sofa, grabbed her purse, and hurried into the dining room.
The safest place during an earthquake was under a table.
This wasn’t an earthquake, but her proverbial foundation had been shaken, so under the table was as good as any place to hide.
Because God only knew if the guy was peeking through her windows right now.
I’m not paranoid. I’m not paranoid.
Once under the piece of sturdy oak furniture, she dug her hands into her purse, fumbling for her phone. Where…there. She closed her hand around the piece of hard plastic and drew out the device.
Several call and text alerts popped up on the screen. Darn you, Kevin.
Her hands trembled with the shock of adrenaline blasting through her.
“Focus, girl. Forget the texts. Push Recents…good. And there’s Meryl.” She stabbed at her friend’s number and raised the phone to her ear.
“Hey, chick-a-roo.” Meryl’s cheery voice failed to induce the calm Robyn so desperately needed. “Are we still wining tonight? Kit-Kat is here.”
My daughter is there? That was good. She needed numbers, a show of force. “Meryl.” The hoarse whisper didn’t even sound like her voice. “There’s a thirty-foot man at my front door.”
“A thirty-foot…. Ohh, hon-neeeey.”
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop thinking about the size of his…his…his….”
“His dick?”
“Auntie!” Kathy’s shocked voice carried over the receiver.
It was all for show, of course. No one could have Meryl as a godmother and not have learned a thing or two about dirty words.
“His…penis.” Robyn forced the word through her teeth. Only Meryl could one-track a conversation so fast. “This is serious.”
“So am I.” Meryl sounded more gleeful than serious.
“Okay. Okay, fine. He’s not actually thirty-feet, but he is taller than my front door.”
“Shit, Robyn, what are you waiting for? Drag him inside!”
“No, no, stop it. Meryl, he has wings.” Beautiful silver-gray wings.
Her fingers twitched at the thought of their softness—because they would be soft, of course.
“You’re not talking about buffalo wings for dinner, are you?”
“No. Humongous, real-life, wings.” She gave her free hand a wave, for no apparent reason since no one was there to see it. “Sprouting from his back.”
“Leathery, or feathery?”
“Feathery, like an angel’s.” More like a bird of prey’s really. A larger-than-life bird of prey’s.
“So, there’s an ‘angel’ at your front door.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yes.” A wild thought popped into her mind. She cupped her hand over the speaker and her mouth. “Like Lucifer.”
“You mean the guy from the T.V. show?”
“No. He’s at least thirty years older than that.” And better looking in a seasoned sort of way. Steady, Robbi. “Meryl, what if it is Lucifer?”
Meryl’s burst of laughter came from the itty-bitty phone speaker. Great. But in all fairness, the thought had sounded more plausible in her head. Once put into words, it sounded crazy. She sounded crazy.
“What’s going on, Auntie?”
“Sh, Kit-Kat. Wait a minute. Robyn?”
“I’m still here.” Still need help.
“That makes no sense. You’ve led the most squeaky-clean life imaginable. If Lucifer was going to show up on anyone’s doorstep, it’d be mine before it’d be yours, don’tcha think?”
She had a point. “Probably.”
“You know that’s true, Ms. I-Don’t-Cuss.” Meryl sighed. “Listen, could he be your off-world match from Silverstar?”
The sensation of puzzle pieces clicking into place in her brain was almost audible. “W-wouldn’t they have called or texted me first?”
“Maybe they sent him as a surprise?”
“Do they do that?”
Meryl made a small laugh sound. “I don’t know, honey. Why don’t you ask the angel on your doorstep?”
Well, duh. Why didn’t she think of that?
Because you’re a crazy old lady. The only thing missing were cats, and that was because she was allergic.
“Fine. Okay. I will.”
“Good! Now go get him before he leaves. And don’t worry about calling me back if you get it on with him.”
“Meryl—”
“Ciao, Robbi. Have fun.”
The beep of her friend disconnecting ended the call, and she stared at her phone’s screen.
Oh, for goodness sake. Somewhere in the middle of the seventeen texts and calls from Kevin, Nixy Vogel from Silverstar had texted her.
Yes, her match had been made, and his bio was attached.
Yes, he had arrived on Earth already, and would contact her once he was settled into his suite.
No, Robyn was under no obligation to agree to a date unless she was comfortable with doing so.
There was even a head shot of the guy—Kyzel Raptorclaw from Bezchi. His home world was a long-time member of the Galactic Alliance of Planets, and they’d just begun working on a trade treaty with Earth—in Los Angeles of all places, a short trip down the freeway distance-wise.
She pushed her glasses up higher on her nose and peered through the magnification lenses. Yep, a bit of his feathery wings showed behind his head. And the widow’s peak just added to his general gorgeousness, that was for darn sure.
And I left all that standing on my front porch, visible to every last single woman in the neighborhood?
She scrambled out from under her dining table, gave her blouse a tug to make sure it was straight, and hurried her hiney in the direction of her front door. Hopefully slamming the door in his face wasn’t an insult on his planet.
Here goes nothing.
Or everything. Her heart gave a mad flutter of giddy anticipation. The sense that her life was about to completely and irrevocably change settled over her. She grasped the doorknob, turned, and pulled the door open…
…to an empty porch.
No one—alien nor angel—stood there.
She leaned forward and peered left and right. Nope. The porch was devoid of life, as was the front walk and the sidewalk.
“Well, that’s disappointing.” She allowed her shoulders to slump.
Apparently the winged off-worlder only knocked once, and she’d blown it. Once again, she’d sabotaged her love life without even trying.
A warm puff of air stirred the stillness of the evening, and something floated across her porch. She bent and pinched the delicate silver feather between her thumb and forefinger. It was beautiful, ethereal, like the glow of a full moon in the darkest night.
She brought it to her nose and inhaled. A comfortable, nutmeggy scent filled her with an odd sense of rightness.
“Kyzel.” Her whisper seemed to surround her.
I need to text Nixy Vogel and tell her what happened.
Nixy could get a message to Kyzel. Hopefully he’d understand she hadn’t intentionally jilted him, and would agree to meet her somewhere. A special place he’d find interesting. But where? She didn’t know anything about him or what he liked.
Read his bio in the text, dummy.
All might not be lost after all. She clutched the feather to her breast, stepped back inside, and closed the door. First things first. Text Nixy, then get to know Kyzel as well as a bio would allow.
The rest would come.