“Hello?” she called but silence answered.
The Christmas cards she’d been addressing were still spread across the table. Her mug still stood beside them, the once-hot chocolate inside now dried up and nasty looking.
Ke’lar’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “What is that stench?”
“That’s what you get when nobody takes the trash out for almost two weeks.” She pulled her cloak off and flung it across Uncle Lester’s comfortable but ugly green patterned sofa. She grabbed the remote from the coffee table and shut the TV off. “But no one’s here,” she said and pushed a few of the windows open. Better cold air than that old trash smell. “No one’s been here either.”
Summer held her breath as she bagged up the trash. She went out the back door and threw the bag into one of the cans. Set on wheels to be moved to the road for trash collection, they hadn’t been touched either.
“This is a very primitive shelter,” Ke’lar commented as she scrubbed her hands at the sink. The heat was still on—thankfully or the pipes might have busted—but the fire she’d gone out to the shed to fetch wood for had long since burned out.
She grabbed a towel to dry her hands. “Says the man who suggested we live in a cave.”
They grinned at each other for a moment then the smiles faded.
She was home, in time.
And he should leave this world—now—return to his own before there was any chance he was discovered here. Get back to the ship that waited in the nearby woods, cloaked from view by holo-reflectors that made it invisible to the human eye, and lift off immediately.
Ke’lar looked away first. “Can you track where Emma is?”
“I have been meaning to get her ear tagged,” Summer joked, reaching for her bag, still hanging where she’d left it over the back of the dining room chair. “But I think I should start with my cell phone.”
Ten days and forty calls, but only two from Dean. One where he didn’t leave a message and the second confirming he was dropping Emma off today as planned.
“I should change,” she said, indicating the blue gown she still wore. “Looks like I owe Jenna a dress.” She looked at the wet slippers she wore. “And some shoes.”
“I will see she is compensated,” he rumbled.
When you get home.
“I repacked our things to carry them better for the walk to the clanhall and . . . I have something for you,” he said, uncharacteristically clumsy when he reached into his pocket to draw it out. “Something someday—” His throat worked. “For you to give to our daughter.”
A lump formed in her throat when she saw the carved comb in his hand, the one that had been his mother’s.
She took it from him. “Ke’lar . . .”
He met her gaze and in those glowing pained eyes she saw she didn’t have to say what she was feeling. He understood perfectly.
He reached for her and then she was in his arms, his mouth against hers, the cinnamon scent of him warm and soothing. He brushed his nose against hers, slowly up one side, down the other, a tender g’hir kiss, then his mouth touched hers and she wished this kiss could last forever.
But none ever could and she leaned into his strength, suddenly finding that all of hers had gone.
He touched his forehead to hers. “My own sweet Summer.”
“Ke’lar,” she murmured. “My mate . . .”
Suddenly he lifted his head, looking toward the cabin’s front windows.
“What is it?” she asked, looking that way, but she couldn’t see anything, hear anything, outside.
“I am not sure,” he murmured. “It is unpleasant sounding.” He sniffed and his expression went taut. “It smells like your land transport. The smell is getting stronger. It is coming this way.”
Dean.
Even if it wasn’t her ex, it was someone. Someone who couldn’t be allowed to see an alien warrior.
“No, wait.” She dropped the comb on the table to reach out to him, to catch him before he could go. “I’m not ready. Please, not yet . . .”
He cupped her cheek. “I wish I could express to you what it is for a g’hir male to be bound to a mate. My people have poems, songs, stories, and through them I thought I understood, but I did not, I could not. Truly it is not something a male can understand until he knows it. It is more than love, deeper than loyalty, greater to me than even the All Mother. I would do anything for you, my Summer.” His glowing eyes were tormented. “Even let you go.”
She could hear the car now too and her tears welled up. “I can’t do this. I can’t be without you.”
He placed her hand over his heart. “You will never be without me. I am yours. For always. No matter how many stars separate us.”
“It might be nothing. Maybe it’s somebody I can send away. Don’t go yet,” she begged. “Just a little more time. An hour. A minute. Anything.”