Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
And I remember that she was smart. Smart, delicious-smelling, and appealing, and not a hint of noli in the air to distract me.
“Thought I’d come see you and make sure everything was all right,” I say, keeping my tone friendly.
Her mouth purses and she looks like she’s tasted something foul, which I find adorable. She immediately stiffens at my words, though, her posture immediately changing to alertness. “Why wouldn’t everything be all right?”
“I haven’t seen you around Port.”
She rolls her eyes, relaxing again. “I don’t go to Port, not that it’s any of your business.”
That’s strange. “Why not?”
“I don’t trust it.” Barlia eyes me. “Are you just going to stand on my porch and quiz me?”
“Can I come in?”
“No.”
“Then yes.” I grin at her, ignoring the look she shoots in my direction. “So you mean to tell me you don’t go into Port, ever? Not even for a drink at the cantina? Or supplies? Medical issues?”
“Never.” She arches one of those dark brows at me. “Is that a problem? Do I need to run my schedule past you?”
My mouth twitches with amusement at the sass in her tone. “I’m just trying to get to know you, Barlia. Trying to understand what makes you purr. Don’t you ever get lonely out here by yourself?”
“Don’t call me that name. It’s not my name.”
“Then tell me your name.”
“Will you go away if I do?”
I incline my head in an almost-nod. I’m lying, though. I don’t plan on going anywhere. Not when she’s being such a hissy kitten. It’s so keffing adorable that I want to grab her and squeeze her against my chest.
“Tabitha. Not Tab. Not Tabby. Not Bit or Bitsy. Tabitha. The whole thing.”
“And not Barlia,” I agree, practically beaming at her. “Tabitha.”
“That’s right. So if you’re going to bother me, at least have the decency to call me by my name.” She lingers in the doorway, eyeing me. “It’s called common courtesy, Jrrru.”
My heart warms. She remembers my name. I like how she makes it sound like an insult. “My apologies, Tabitha. I’ll use the right name from now on. I swear on my honor.”
“Your honor, huh?”
“Such as it is.” I grin at her and lean against the door jamb across from her. “So tell me more. You don’t go into Port, ever? Doesn’t that get lonely?”
I expect her to make some sharp comment about how I’m getting comfortable, or how I’d told her I’d leave. But she doesn’t. Instead, she’s quiet for a long moment before she answers. “I could go into Port, but I’d rather be safe here at home. I like being…safe.”
Safe.
It’s such a loaded word. Hearing her hesitate and then say it in a hushed voice makes me feel like I’ve unlocked all her secrets. All of this—her hermit-like habits, her weapons, her ferocious attitude—is about safety. Hrrrusek has mentioned that Chelsea has some terrible scars from her past, and I’ve caught a glimpse of them on her arms. She never speaks of her enslavement, not even to Hrrrusek, who she loves and adores beyond all reason.
Chelsea’s scars are on the outside, but I’d wager my longest whisker that Tabitha carries just as many scars on the inside.
So I just nod. “It’s hard out there in the galaxy for humans, isn’t it?” When she says nothing, I continue. “If you need someone at your side when you go into town to make you feel safe, I’m happy to volunteer. I’d gladly be your escort.”
“No.” Her voice is firm, but I can tell she’s flustered at the thought. Her scent changes ever so slightly, and her body language tenses. She does not like the idea of going into town at all.
All right, then. Cantina date nights are out. We’ll do it her way, because I want her to be comfortable. I want to be her friend. Well, I want to be more than her friend but I’ll start with friendship. “If you don’t want to go into town, then let me pick things up for you. Surely you need something? It’s hard to be entirely self-sufficient.”
She seems to shrink in on herself for a moment, and then the defiance returns. Her chin angles up and she glares at me. “I…I go into town sometimes. Have to. I just don’t like to. It’s better to be here at home…with water.”
That’s an odd thing to fixate on. I’m sure there’s a story behind that. “Wasn’t accusing you of being a coward, my fragrant Tabitha. I was commenting on how it’s difficult to be alone. It’s twice as difficult when you’re an unwelcome race in the place you’ve landed.” I smooth my whiskers with my hand. “Ask me how I know.”
That earns me a twitch of her mouth. An almost-smile. I love it.
“So I’m not harassing you about not going into town. I’m saying that I get it. If you don’t want to go, don’t go. Kef knows I’d avoid it myself if I could, but all the jobs I get are out there and sometimes I just want to get away from the house because my brother’s mate is very, ah, carefree. She doesn’t notice that I’m in the house sometimes when they get amorous, and then I have to hide in the barn for hours, and I make the meat-stock nervous.” I point at myself. “Did you know that praxiians are descended from predators?”