Page 30 of Married to the Alien Mountain Man

“I suppose I cannot fault the warden for that,” Oaken said, the corners of his full mouth tipping upwards. A warm gruffness entered his voice. “Perhaps somewhere, in the back of his mind, he is worried that I might try to run away with you.”

OK. Wow. He made that sound unfairly sexy.

“I made food!” I hoped a quick subject change would save me from the inconvenient heat throbbing in my core.

“That was not necessary,” Oaken said, his white eyes going to the bowl on the table. “I would have happily cooked for you.”

I shrugged. “I needed something to do this afternoon. And I like working with my hands. Although, that usually involves doing chores and repairs on my ship.”

I actually enjoyed cooking, even if what counted as cooking on theLavariyawas heating or rehydrating various sorts of instant meals. I didn’t often get the chance to make things from scratch in an actual kitchen. Oaken’s kitchen wasn’t anything fancy, but it was cozy and more than serviceable. I’d liked spending time in here this afternoon, and the stew Magnolia had helped me concoct had turned out pretty good, if I did say so myself.

“There is only one bowl,” Oaken said as he sat down. Though he tried not to make it obvious, I noticed the way he suppressed a groan when he stretched out his right leg under the table. “You will not eat?”

“I kept eating the ingredients!” I said. “And I was taste-testing the meal every step of the way. I’m pretty full now.”

“I see.”

I watched him closely as he lifted the spoon to his mouth. He tasted it, and his black eyebrows flew upwards.

“This is excellent!”

I practically vibrated with pleasure at his response.

Which was totally stupid.

“I’m just gonna, um, hit the outhouse,” I said, jerking my thumb over my shoulder as if Oaken needed me to remind him which direction the toilet was, even though it was his freaking toilet in the first place.

I didn’t even have to pee.

I turned around and left anyway, pretending the entire time that I wasn’t running away.

14

OAKEN

Ihad another serving of Jaya’s delightful stew. Then, replete, I washed my bowl, my spoon, and the pot before putting the items away.

In all that time, Jaya did not return.

Despite my weariness after the day’s events and my ankle’s lingering soreness, I found I could not make myself sit back down again. I paced the room, trying to balance the privacy Jaya deserved with the protection I longed to give her.

Perhaps humans took much longer in an outhouse than a Zabrian might. Nothing in the book Tasha wrote seemed to indicate such a thing, but neither had it said that humans were particularly quick when relieving themselves, either.

So I waited, and paced, and dug my fangs into the inside of my cheek as questions pecked at me.

What if she fell? And for some reason, she could not get up? The outhouse was not far from the house, but was it possible that she had gotten lost? What if she broke her delicate human ankle, and was now alone in the grass, waiting for her husband to help her?

Of course, I hadn’t heard anything out of the ordinary. And if she’d called for help, my ears would have picked up on the sound.

Panic sloshed through my belly.

What if she could not call for help because she was unconscious? What if she was choking? What if –

“Blast,” I hissed. I yanked open the door.

Only to find Jaya standing there, right on the other side.

“Oh!” she squeaked, blinking up at me. “Hi!”

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