The Alien's Little Sister (Stolen by an Alien #8) - Amanda Milo Page 0,47
dress and a whole lot of glossy hair blown out to perfection (Surprised I know hair things? I’ve got sisters and a mom; I know hair things)—glares at me in warning.
Okayyy…
I’m frowning as the women’s washroom door swings shut behind them. Then I look at the guy.
He’s avoiding my gaze.
“You seem nervous,” I say conversationally. I shift, crossing one ankle over the other, and I flip my wrist up to glance at my watch.
The moment I do, the guy inhales—then does a double take, inhaling more sharply, his head snapping up and his eyes locking on mine.
Also? His Phantom cape looks like it jumps at the shoulders. Fucking. Weird.
He’s eyeing me like something about me is a shock to him though. “Have you seen a fem—a woman with…” His gaze jumps to the women’s washroom door. “With horns?”
I narrow my eyes on him. “The alien?”
His head whips back to me, eyes popped wide.
Hauling the basket without even feeling the pinch on my elbow, I move right up to him, reaching for my wallet, whipping out a card, and shoving it in his face. “She’s my employee. Ever played an escape game? If you visit our alien room and use this card—”
The washroom door opens, and the two women he came in with trot out. They were in there for like thirty seconds; they must have peed like the wind and done it worrying about me because I’m the first thing they look at. And when they see that I’m giving their guy a business card, one yelps, “Drop that, Jonoh! Don’t take anything from him!”
The guy—Jonah? Jonoh?—he drops my card immediately, obeying like he’s been trained. But then he shoots a frantic look at the woman and gestures down at the card between his feet. “Wait, no—I need this. Please. We need this information. There’s a—”
The woman in the jeans and sneakers swoops down and grabs up my card before latching on to the guy’s arm, beginning to lead him away like he’s in danger. The glossy haired beast glares at me, watching me like I’m liable to strike the moment she turns her back.
Inara steps out of the washroom then, taking my focus—
And when I look back, the strange trio is gone.
I glance to Inara again, and find her with her head angled up slightly. She’s sniffing.
She frowns. “I smell a hob.”
I feel my forehead furrow. “A what?”
Inara is visibly agitated. “Let us leave.”
“Sure,” I tell her. “I’m going to be so happy to check out with your basket. We’re going to need to hire a moving company just to get it all out to the car—”
“No, let us leave the purchases,” she insists.
Concerned, I set her basket on the floor. (My elbow moans in relief.) I take her face and tilt it up a fraction until we’re eye to eye. “Hey. What’s freaking you out?”
Her gaze searches mine. “Did you see a male like me?” she asks.
I take in her ears, horns, and scales. And her leathery locks of hair. “Nope.”
Her eyes have lightened to a shade of lilac, looking so, so serious. “What about males with wings?”
“Definitely did not see that,” I assure her.
She relaxes. “Okay.” She glances around again, her delicate nostrils flaring. Customers are eyeing us as they wind around aisles stuffed with cute craft crap—they’re eyeing her, really, but no one bothers us. They probably see her basket of faux skin fabric (along with everything else) and assume she’s a woman who likes to make elaborate costumes and she’s here for more supplies.
We don’t abandon her things, and I insist on hauling her basket to the checkout, and if Inara is extra observant of other shoppers, she doesn’t seem freaked anymore. We check out and head to work, and there’s no trouble.
The night goes great. The next week goes great too. My family pesters me for information but gives me space, not showing up unannounced or anything. Which, admittedly is much more polite than I’ve been in the reverse situation during their dating years. It’s far better than I deserve, but then again I think my family doesn’t want to risk scaring my new woman away.
Instead of Inara and me continuing to soak up experiences alone as a couple, we invite Inara’s small circle of friend (Stacy) and head to the mall to go on a shopping trip. We do an employee cookout in the parking lot with Sal, Jason, and me manning the burgers, dogs, and brats.