Claimed by the Alien Bodyguard - Tiffany Roberts Page 0,18

came with pain, with a jolt. What he felt now…well, it seemed more like floating than falling. Or maybe it was like falling—like falling forever, with no ground in sight.

Broxen sat down, propped his arms on the table, and stared down at the cookies. The little white bear stared back up at him unblinkingly, its smile never fading.

The cookie bear wasn’t judging Broxen. It didn’t know about his past, it didn’t know his true form, and it didn’t care. Neither did Ana. Somehow, she’d looked at Broxen and had seen a good man. A potential parent, a potential father. She hadn’t seen a former street thug, an enforcer, a bodyguard who’d protected some dangerous people—and had failed to protect the one person he’d known who might’ve done some good.

And that quick hug she’d given him before running off…

That little girl had placed her trust in him. She’d placed her hope in him. That had to mean something, didn’t it? That had to mean that maybe, just maybe, Astius had been right—that Broxen could be more than his past. That he could choose a different path and succeed.

Maybe it meant that Gabriela had seen something like that in him, too.

He shifted a hand, reaching toward the bear cookie, but stopped himself. Something about it gave him pause.

Saving the best for last.

That was a human thing, wasn’t it? There was no harm in it. How often was he gifted homemade bear cookies, anyway? He’d keep that bear aside for a little while.

He picked up a striped candy cane cookie instead, holding it delicately between his forefinger and thumb. The red, white, and green icing stripes were neat and relatively even, with only one spot where a tiny trickle of white had mixed with the red. That small imperfection made him smile. This cookie had undoubtedly been decorated by Gabriela.

When he lifted it to his nose and inhaled, he was hit by a pair of appetizing scents—the cookie and its icing, each smell unique but complementing one another. Broxen opened his mouth and took a small bite.

“Mmm,” was all he could manage as he chewed. He’d tasted pre-packaged cookies from the grocery store, and they were fine, but this was something entirely different. Sweet and buttery but not overly so, the icing and the cookie in perfect balance.

The rest of the candy cane vanished in one more bite. Broxen hadn’t quite finished chewing it before he made his next selection, the green tree with red, blue, and yellow dots all over it and a star on the top. A Christmas tree. His smile widened as he turned the cookie to look it over. The dots were haphazard and uneven, and the green icing had run off one side of the cookie. Another of Ana’s creations.

Broxen devoured the cookie and picked up the next one. His mind was overwhelmed by the flavor, the sweetness, the surprise of having been gifted them. Perhaps that was why they tasted so good.

Or, perhaps, Gabriela was simply a good baker.

By the time he stopped himself, only one cookie remained on the plate, surrounded by crumbs and a few flecks of icing. The bear continued to stare up at Broxen, happy despite its companions having been devoured before its very eyes.

He still couldn’t bring himself to eat it. This one was special, just for him. He’d save it for a more special time.

Broxen stood up, picked up the plate, and walked into the kitchen. He put the bear cookie into a plastic sandwich bag and set it on the counter. As he washed Gabriela’s plate, he was struck by the kindness of her gesture.

He knew Gabriela had struggled. He knew she was tight on money, that she often cut it close paying her bills. In the fall, while the weather was still nice enough for windows to be open during the day, he’d heard her on the phone with debt collectors and credit companies. He knew she had little to spare most of the time. But she’d still shared this with Broxen.

Perhaps a few cookies wasn’t much, but he knew from experience that value was relative. The less you had, the more you valued those things. For her to have thought of him, to have shared with him, to have made him a small part of something she and her daughter had done together, meant a lot to him.

He set the plate in the drainboard and glanced around his house again. The living room, kitchen, and dining room were