Page 21 of Tail, Dark and Handsome: Celestial Mates
“Here you are,” the female said, clattering down the stairs. Dry and clean, she looked like a different creature from the sodden, fearful female he found.
Zero sat up, his entire body at attention.
She stood with her hands on her hips, inspecting the room. A smile drifted over her lips. “Wow. This is gorgeous. I bet the view is amazing at sunrise. I like it,” she said, as if her opinion carried merit. Which it did not, and his chest did not puff up with pride at her praise. If anyone thought differently, they were mistaken.
Winter should offer his guest a beverage. Perhaps food? It was after midday, but he had not yet eaten. The words dried up in his mouth.
Her feet were bare.
His mind went blank. Human feet were flat and the toes so adorably short. It was amazing that humans could balance with their small toes. More than the unusual appendage, the intimacy of her bare feet unnerved him. No one should be comfortable enough to wander his home in their bare feet. It was wrong. It was unduly familiar.
“Oh. Hello. I’m Marigold,” she said to Zero.
“Your feet,” Winter croaked. His tail slinked by his side. He could not allow this female to unbalance him.
“My sandals are still in the cleansing unit. They needed more time,” she said, ignoring him. Moving as if she were being pulled, she pressed a hand against the window and watched the storm. Lightning flashed. For a moment, the light flared and distorted his vision, blinding him. His eyes squeezed closed, reluctant to open even after the event passed.
Thunder rumbled. Winter opened his eyes. The female removed her hand from the window, as though she had been shocked.
“Thanks for letting me wait out the storm. I can’t imagine being out in that,” she said. Then she observed him. “Your eyes. The color changed,” she gasped.
“I have a sensitivity to light and must wear protective lenses,” he said, familiar with explaining his achromatopsia as simply as possible. People were curious, but they were not truly interested.
“Oh. That explains the mood lighting,” she said.
“There’s nothing wrong with his sight,” Zero jumped in. While Winter had a lifetime of people asking too personal questions or assuming his lack of color vision meant he was blind in all regards, Zero was still learning to navigate this. “He has a genetic condition, achromatopsia. That means the cones in the retina do not function properly so he can’t see color, only white, black, and gray. But there’s nothing wrong with my dad.” The words all came out in a rush.
“I also experience blindness in full sun, hence the lenses,” Winter added. He did not wish to discuss the topic and would discuss with his kit about blurting out medical information to strangers.
“Thank you for telling me. Is lightning a problem? Should we close the curtains?” she asked, turning to him.
“It is not a concern. I should—” He should…he searched for what people did in situations like this, when they took pity on a frightened female and invited them into their home.
Rebel would know what to do. Charm and hospitality came easily to her. Fuck, even Chase would know how to behave with a guest. He should offer her a beverage or food.
Yes. Food. That was good.
“I’m hungry. Come to the kitchen if you wish to eat,” he announced.
Zero sneezed, lightly and discreetly passing judgment on his father’s rudeness. “He means to say, would you like a drink? Something to eat?”
“That sounds good. Thank you.” The comm unit on her wrist chirped with an incoming message. She frowned. “Give me one minute, please.”
Zero dragged Winter to the kitchen. Once they were out of the human’s inferior listening rage, Zero turned to Winter, his eyes wide. “What the what?”
“The storm,” Winter offered.
His kit stretched up to pat him on the head. “There, there. Making friends is hard. I’m proud of you.”
“I am not making friends. She is likely a corporate spy.” Then he dropped his voice to a whisper. “She asked about our ship.”
“Sure.” Another pat.
Winter swatted Zero’s hand away. He was not in the mood to be condescended to by his kit.
Zero laughed and scampered out to their guest with all the graceless enthusiasm of youth. “Merry-gold. Does your name mean something in human?”
“Marigold. It’s a type of flower. Bright. Yellow,” the female responded.
