Chapter 8
Ruby
I couldn't get over how easily Cristox fit into our lives.
It was as if he'd always been there, filling a space I hadn't realized was empty.
He came over every morning just after dawn, letting himself in with the spare key I'd given him.
By the time I'd showered and dressed for work, he'd already fed Teddy and had him laughing at the kitchen table.
He took care of our son with a natural ease that made my heart ache—helping him sound out words in his reading lessons while I worked in the bakery, the scent of fresh bread and cinnamon rolls filling the air.
We spent afternoons together, the three of us exploring the village, playing games, or just talking.
He had dinner with us every night, sitting at our small table as if he belonged there.
Each evening, he tucked Teddy into bed, reading him stories in that deep, rumbling voice that made my son's eyes grow heavy with contentment.
On our first day together, we'd shown Cristox around Tau Ceti, walking the dusty streets of the village.
Teddy had been so proud, holding Cristox's hand and pointing out his favorite spots—the playground, the shop that sold real chocolate imported from Earth, the park where the older kids played kickball.
He introduced Cristox to everyone we met as a friend of his dad's, which was technically true, though the explanation felt thin even to my ears.
I got some looks. How could I not? Cristox and Teddy looked so much alike.
The same wavy dark blonde mane, the same deep-set amber eyes, the same way they tilted their heads when they were thinking.
I was sure some of my neighbors had figured things out by now, putting two and two together. Thankfully, no one said anything.
Now, watching Cristox lean back in the driver's seat of our borrowed hover-truck, one hand on the wheel while the other gestured animatedly as he played "I Spy" with Teddy, something warm and dangerous unfurled in my chest. His tail swayed gently behind him in the cramped space, the tip occasionally brushing against my leg in a way that sent little sparks of awareness through me.
He was such a good dad.
The thought hit me hard, stealing my breath. He was a good dad, even if Teddy didn't know it yet. Even if I hadn't figured out how to tell him.
"I spy with my little eye," Teddy announced from the back seat, "something that is... red!"
Cristox made a show of looking around, his brow furrowing in exaggerated concentration.
He'd dressed in human clothes today. Well-worn jeans that hugged his muscular thighs and a red shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders.
The color brought out the golden undertones in his pelt, making his honey-brown eyes seem even warmer.
He looked good. Too good.
"Is it... the warning light on the dashboard?" Cristox guessed.
"Nope!"
"The barn we just passed?"
"Nope! It's your shirt, silly!" Teddy dissolved into giggles.
Cristox laughed, the sound rich and genuine, and glanced back at our son with such open affection that my heart squeezed. Then his gaze slid to me, catching me staring, and his smile softened into something else entirely. Something heated and intimate that made my pulse quicken.
Heat bloomed low in my belly, a traitorous warmth that spread through my limbs like lava.
His nostrils flared.
Oh no!
I knew enough about alien physiology—hell, I knew enough mixed couples on Tau Ceti—to understand what that meant. Most males could scent arousal. It was one of those things people whispered about at the market, half-scandalized, half-envious, and always satisfied.
Mortification crashed over me like a cold wave.
I jerked my gaze forward, fixing my eyes on the dusty road ahead, and forced myself to think about the least sexy thing possible.
Bugs. The disgusting beetle-like creatures that infested the grain silos.
The way their legs crunched when you stepped on them. The smell of the pesticide we used to—
"Ruby?" Cristox's voice was low, careful, with an underlying rumble that did absolutely nothing to help my situation. "You alright?"
"Fine," I said a little too quickly. "Just thinking about how Buck's been having trouble with those grain beetles again."
From the corner of my eye, I saw him nod slowly, but the curve of his mouth told me he wasn't fooled for a second.
The rest of the drive passed in a silence thick enough to cut with a knife.
I kept my attention firmly on the landscape rolling past—the green fields, the clusters of farmhouses in the distance, the occasional transport kicking up dust on a parallel road.
Anything but the male sitting beside me, radiating warmth and that damned knowing amusement that made me want to both hide and lean closer.
When Buck and Lula's farm finally came into view, relief flooded through me.
The sprawling property was one of the largest on Tau Ceti, with rows upon rows of crops stretching toward the horizon.
The main house sat at the center. A two-story white clapboard structure that reminded me of the house from that old TV show my grandpa was fond of, The Waltons.
"Big place," Cristox observed as we pulled up the long drive.
"Buck and Lula have been here since the second wave of colonists," I explained, grateful for the neutral topic.
"They've been experimenting with Earth crops for years.
Most don't take well to the atmosphere, but Buck's stubborn as hell.
" He was also rumored to have been Elvis Presley in his former life on Earth, but I kept that to myself.
It was only a rumor, though he did look an awful lot like the young Elvis.
"Sounds like someone else I know," Cristox murmured, and I shot him a glare that he met with pure innocence.
Before I could respond, the front door burst open and a figure emerged—a tall, lean, broad-shouldered man with an impressive pompadour of silver-streaked black hair and sideburns that belonged in a history book.
He wore work pants and a blue plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and when he grinned, I swear the sun glinted off his teeth.
"Ruby! Right on time!" Buck's voice had that distinctive drawl that made everything sound like a song. "Glad to see you, Cristox. I didn't realize you two knew each other."
He turned as a woman appeared in the doorway—Lula, wiping her hands on an apron, her round face creasing into a warm smile. "Lula, Ruby's here and she's brought her fella!"
"He's not my—" I started, but Lula was already bustling over. Teddy scrambled out of the truck, distracted by the sound of laughter coming from somewhere behind the house.
"Can I go play?" Teddy asked, bouncing on his toes, his tail swishing excitedly.
"Stay where we can see you," I said automatically, and he was off like a shot, following the sound.
Lula pulled me into a hug that smelled like fresh bread and herbs.
"Ruby, sweetheart, glad to see you. And Cristox, glad you could make it.
" She patted his arm with the easy familiarity of someone who'd never met a stranger.
"Come on in. I've got lemonade cooling, and then Buck can show you those tomatoes he's been fussing over. "
"Actually," Buck said, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops, "I thought we'd head straight to the greenhouse. Ruby's here on business, after all, and I'm dying to show off what we've managed."
I caught the gleam in his eyes. Buck loved nothing more than showing off his vegetables. "Lead the way," I said.
As we walked toward the greenhouse, Buck launched into his story.
I'd heard it a million times, but Cristox was a virgin set of ears.
"Now, Earth tomatoes are finicky as hell in this atmosphere.
The UV levels are all wrong, the soil composition needs constant adjustment, and don't even get me started on the pollination issues.
But I'll tell you what—" He paused dramatically, and I would swear I heard the opening bars of "Suspicious Minds" in my head.
The rumors that Buck had been Elvis in another life weren't hard to believe when he got going like this.
"—we've cracked it. Took us three years and more failures than I care to count, but we've got beauties in there that would make any Earth farmer weep. "
"Buck's being modest," Lula added, walking beside me while the men strode ahead. "He's been obsessed. I told him, 'Buck, honey, maybe we should focus on crops that actually want to grow here,' but you know how he gets."
"Stubborn?" I suggested.
"Determined," she corrected with a wink. "There's a difference."
Ahead of us, Cristox listened intently to Buck's explanation of soil additives and atmospheric filters, asking questions that showed he was genuinely paying attention.
Something warm unfurled in my chest at the sight.
It was such a small thing, but it spoke to the kind of man he was.
The kind who cared about others, who took the time to understand their passions.
The greenhouse loomed before us, the panels slightly tinted to filter the harsh Tau Ceti sunlight. Buck pulled open the door with a flourish, and we stepped into a different world—humid, green, and smelling of earth and growing things.
And there, in neat rows, were the tomatoes.
"Oh, Buck," I breathed, moving closer. They were beautiful—plump and red and perfect, hanging heavy on the vines.
There was an alien fruit that mimicked the taste of tomatoes, but it was blue, and the consistency could be hard to work with.
Admittedly, it took me some time to get used to blue spaghetti and meatballs.
"Go on, try one." Buck plucked a cherry tomato from the vine and handed it to me.
I bit into the small red orb, and the burst of flavor—sweet and tangy and so perfectly tomato—made me close my eyes. "Oh my God."
"Good?" Buck asked, but his grin said he already knew the answer.