TAMMY
Sunflowers, tentacles, and all the time in the universe.
Iwoke to find the bed empty, the space beside me still warm where three bodies had been.
Almost a year later, and I still couldn’t quite believe that they’d chosen me, chosen this place, over the oceans of their home world.
So, whenever I woke up and they weren’t with me, I had a moment of panic even now.
Morning light filtered through the half-drawn curtains, glowing across the rumpled sheets, still damp from our late night lovemaking. We didn’t ruin ceiling fans nowadays, since Kalith had set large, weight-bearing eye hooks into the ceiling above my bed.
I smiled despite still feeling exhausted, stretching muscles that still ached pleasantly from being torn apart, and put back together again, by my three mates.
Even so, after climaxing repeatedly, I hadn’t slept very well.
The ranch, our livelihood, hinged on Sassafras’ pregnancy continuing to do well.
And it was going beautifully so far, but I kept waiting for everything to fall apart.
The bank had nearly beaten me to it. But a confirmed pregnancy changed the math—twins, no less, out of champion lines—and I’d taken the vet’s report straight to First Kansas and walked out with a reprieve.
A reputable buyer, hungry for a piece of the comeback the whole county had suddenly started whispering about, wired me a deposit: half down on a foal not yet born.
It was just enough to drag the mortgage current and carry me to the auction.
Barely. That razor-thin margin still visited me at three in the morning.
Sitting up, I tossed away the covers and swung my legs over the bed, letting my feet dangle above the hardwoods.
A large lump pushed up one butt cheek uncomfortably.
The mattress wasn’t holding up very well with all of us sleeping—and doing far more active things than sleeping—on it.
Even if it wasn’t indenting and lumping, springs losing their shapes, the bed wasn’t built for four.
I mean, we’d figured out the logistics through trial and error and an embarrassing number of late-night spills onto the floor, but it wouldn’t work forever.
I should buy a bigger bed, or maybe a twin to butt up against the queen, but I also didn’t relish the idea of there being more space for us to spread out.
I liked falling asleep wrapped in tentacles, legs, and arms. I liked the pressure, and the heat, and the sound of their many hearts beating.
Speaking of sounds, the house creaked with familiar ones, despite being rebuilt and alien upgraded. You can remodel all you want, but “old” is a state of mind when it comes to a home.
There was water running in the bathroom, soft voices from the kitchen, the gentle hum of our Wi-Fi router that Kalith had “optimized” last week so I could finally watch all my shows out here in the middle of nowhere.
Standing up, I grabbed an oversized t-shirt from the floor that belonged to Cyro and put it on.
The tee had ragged holes in various places where his tentacles pushed through.
Earth clothing constantly presented challenges, so we kept a closet of good-condition outfits for when we needed to go out in public and have them look wholly human.
At the ranch though? They were always walking around in their full hybrid glory.
I padded barefoot through the hallway, shimmying a little to stop the panties from giving me a wedgie, then skipped down the stairs toward the kitchen.
The scent hit me first—rich, dark coffee with that hint of vanilla Kalith always added.
He’d made some horrible combinations at first when he’d taken over prepping our morning Joe.
Cayenne. Lemon. Mashed raspberries. Even mustard one morning, because he thought it might compliment the breakfast blend. He had down pat now though.
After the glorious smell of coffee, came the sight of Vantor leaning against the counter.
I stopped in my tracks to stare at him. His human face always made me do a double-take.
No one had any right to be so handsome. Of course, when you can craft your face anyway you wish through sheer will, why would you choose to be average looking?
His tentacles trailed behind him, tips brushing the floor, and his muscular arms were crossed over his chest as he watched Kalith carefully measure the perfect amount of creamer into a mug.
I glanced to the right, finding Cyro standing by the window, his face turned toward the rising sun, three tentacles emerging from his back to grip separate mugs while a fourth welded a spoon, stirring the liquid inside each vessel one-by-one.
Their tanned bodies rippled with subtle colors wherever sunlight hit them—crimson waves chasing across Vantor's forearms, lavender-tinged silver dancing along Cyro’s back, and forest greens pulsing through Kalith’s neck as he concentrated on his task.
The colors were brighter now than when they’d first arrived, less controlled, more expressive.
It had taken them months to stop hiding their emotions, to understand that I wanted to see everything—their true selves, not the masks they thought I needed.
I’d even told them they didn’t need to keep up the human guises in the house, but apparently, they’d gotten used to looking human.
“Good morning,” I said, leaning against the doorframe, cocking one leg up to rest the sole of its foot against my other leg’s calf.
I scratched absentmindedly at my side, the shirt hem lifting high enough to show off my panties.
Six alien-man eyes flicked down, and the kitchen air clouded with scent.
My Omega nature stretched, wanting them, but I wanted something else more—coffee.
“It is always a good morning, Tammy,” Vantor reasoned, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to exist without bad days interrupting anything good. But with them around, that was becoming my new reality.
“I guess I should stop being surprised when I wake up and everything’s right in the world,” I mused.
Vantor always put things plainly. He didn’t exaggerate or undersell things.
I appreciated that. It was easy, sometimes, to wonder if he didn’t feel things as deeply as the rest of us, but I’d found he cared every bit as much, just in a quieter way.
“Everything’s right,” Kalith agreed, walking toward me with the now-ready fourth cup of coffee he’d been making, “and it will keep being right.”
“As soon as I have my coffee, I’ll believe that.” I gave him a warm smile, standing up straight and reaching for the mug. He lifted it too high for me to grab, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Hey, you know the rule, we don’t mess with Tammy before coffee.”
I raised an eyebrow at Kalith, arms crossed over my chest, tapping my foot against the floor in mock impatience. “You know how I feel about mornings. I need my coffee, or all you get is a grumpy rancher who won’t be able to focus on anything but how much she hates life.”
He laughed, the sound bubbling up like his precious coffee brewing.
It was that kind of laughter that made my heart swell—so genuine, so unrestrained.
He stepped closer, still holding the mug out of reach, his tentacles flicking with playful mischief as if daring me to challenge him. “It’ll cost you,” he breathed out.
“I have morning breath” I scowled at him.
His head ducked closer, human nostrils flaring. “Hmmm, you do.”
“Hey!” I slapped out, palm striking his chest. “Are you really trying to get on my bad side this morning?”
Kalith offered me a cocky grin and then quickly kissed me before relenting, finally handing over the mug.
“You’re on my naughty list for the entire day now, just so you know.”
He was already turning around, padding back over to clean up the prep items. “Feel free to punish me later,” he quipped teasingly.
I yawned loudly before taking the first sip of pale coffee. It was delicious, per usual.
Vantor turned, his human features rearranging themselves into that mixture of protectiveness and desire that never failed to make my insides twist with want. “You should have slept longer,” he said, crossing the space between us to wrap an arm around my waist.
“She was worried about Sassafras,” Cyro guessed, extending a tentacle in my direction and tracing its tip down my cheek. “You have to relax, Tammy. The gestation period is proceeding exactly as predicted in all three reference models.”
“Telling your mate to relax rarely helps anything,” I reminded him.
It was something I’d had to point out repeatedly.
Calm down. It will all be fine. Just breathe.
Those kinds of statements made me want to scream when I was stressed.
“But I’m not worried,” I lied, taking a sip that warmed me from the inside out. “Not with you three around.”
“That is a deception,” Vantor mumbled affectionately, shrinking his height so he could easily press his forehead against mine. “But I will allow you to pretend if it helps you.”
“Allow me?” I quirked an eyebrow.
Vantor pulled back and scrunched his face, thinking. “I will not point out your obvious falsehood so you can continue to live in your delusion.”
“That’s… not any better,” I said, unable to fight the way the corners of my mouth turned up, or the note of laughter in my words.
“I’m going out to the porch,” I announced, unnecessarily.
It was my habit and had become theirs. Coffee on the porch, early morning light glowing across the rebuilt ranch, the scent of sunflowers in the air.
They followed me, carrying their own untouched coffees.
Outside, we settled into our favorite positions—me in the center of the swing, Vantor’s massive frame beside me, Kalith perched on the railing, and Cyro leaning against the porch support, his face turned toward the sunrise with scientific appreciation.
From this vantage point, Sunflower Hills spread before us in all its glory—a dramatic transformation from the derelict property I’d bought from the bank.
The main house gleamed with fresh white paint, the porch rebuilt with wood that matched the newly repaired barn.
Beyond them stretched modernized stables with subtle upgrades that any human would mistake for cutting-edge agricultural technology rather than the product of intergalactic engineering.
In the pastures, the horses were roaming.
I didn’t worry about stabling them every night, not now that Kalith had created a sort of force field around that area to keep them safe at all times.
Sassafras meandered over to Mystery, who nuzzled her neck.
She was so large now and doing so well thanks to the supportive belt circling her middle.
It had helped her body expand and adapt to the growing twins.
It monitored her vitals, even releasing different medicines into her body if needed, like when her Prostaglandins spiked and we were terrified she might lose the twins.
Then there was my old man, Artie. He had a little more pep in his step now. I loved the moments he’d frolic like a young pony.
I’d stood here every morning since my alien mates had decided to stay, and the sight of how they’d changed my life still made me teary.
“You’re crying again,” Cyro observed, his silver eyes flashing. A tentacle, I wasn’t sure whose because I couldn’t take my gaze off our home, darted to my cheek and claimed the first tear that slipped down from my right eye. “Why? What do you see?”
I knew Cyro. He was searching for what had changed today, versus yesterday, to make me once again become so emotional.
I took another sip of coffee, letting the question settle. What did I see? Not just a ranch anymore. Not just a business I was struggling to save. “Just home,” I said finally, the word feeling perfect on my tongue. “I see our home.”
They moved to touch me then. With hands. Tentacles. God, I loved this life now.
“Do you think the auction will go well?” I was worried not only about Sassafras’ pregnancy, but the way we’d chosen to pre-sale her foals at the big livestock auction next week.
It wasn’t that we hadn’t found reputable buyers ready to take a chance, but instead that we wanted to make our mark on the breeding community in a memorable way.
Getting top dollar in a public forum like that would launch Sunflower Hills into the community.
Word spread like wildfire in our business.
A breeding ranch basically raised from the dead paying out the nose for a prime pre-auction display booth to create buzz… on Derek’s turf… seemed like a good idea in the heat of the moment. Now? I had all the regrets.
“I am confident it will yield a lucrative result,” Cyro nodded, as if he could somehow magically measure the readiness of unknown buyers participating in something as traditionally unpredictable as a live auction.
But I chose to believe him, because it was easier right now to have blind hope than keep drowning in fake worst-case scenarios and manufacture fears.