Before she can say anything, I get out of the air-sled and pull out my equipment, doing my best to seem busy.
Lucy doesn't comment on my slip-up, though. She watches me for a few minutes, sighs, and then heads inside her house as I begin to scan the premises. The nervous sweat on my body fades as she walks away, and I want to kick myself. Why can't I talk to her like a normal male? Why is it I get so very tongue-tied when she shows up? She doesn't hate me. She must not. She bakes for myself and Khex every day, and stops in regularly to talk to us. We've never asked her to do any of it.
I wish I could be certain if it meant more. That she showed up regularly because she wants to talk to me. That she enjoys being around me like I enjoy being around her…but I know that's not true. All of the human-interaction training we received stressed that humans are shy, easily frightened creatures. While this doesn't exactly fit what I know of Lucy, I suspect I am wrong in this matter. She would never look at a mesakkah—one of the alien races that have enslaved her people—as a potential suitor.
Especially not a male like me, who is not particularly handsome, or smart. I'm strong, but I'm also so solidly built that this will not be in my favor. My size will just terrify her even more, and so I must tread carefully.
I pass by the house as I continue to scan the grounds, my handheld reader sending beams out, searching for strands of DNA. I filter out the results, removing any human traces, and watch the screen as it processes the information received. As I do, I glance over at the house. Lucy is inside, in the kitchen, chopping something with a large knife. She looks frustrated, a frown on her pretty face as she works, and mutters something under her breath. She looks up and glances over at me.
She smiles, too, but there is confusion on her face.
Kef me. I remember my training and drop my gaze, not wishing to startle her. "Almost done. I just need to check the barn."
"Oh, okay. You can come in if you like?"
And intimidate her in her domicile? My training suggested it would only frighten the humans more. "No, I do not want."
"I see."
"I am quite content out here." I nod and turn away, heading for the barn.
4
LUCY
Good god almighty, the man is shy.
I frown in frustration at the knife I'm holding, wondering if I looked too aggressive. Do I look like a crazy, knife-wielding man-hungry human? Maybe that's why he's avoiding me. He wasn't very chatty on the way here, and I was hoping he'd loosen up if we rode together. Instead, he just clammed up even more. It's frustrating, because I like what I've seen of the man, and I want to see more so I can like even more…but he seems determined to avoid me.
Perhaps I've misread him and the situation and everything and I should give up on my silly little crush. Turning back to the cutting board on the counter, I continue chopping the tahaari root, attacking it with renewed energy. When in doubt, I bake. Tahaari root is a local tuber that tastes a lot like cinnamon and yams, so I'm going to make a pie.
If that man doesn't like my pie…well, I'll just eat it. And then I'll give up.
I glance out the window and inwardly wince as he heads for the barn, his beeping doohickey in his hands. Scanning for DNA to see if I've had intruders. It's a fruitless task, since I know very well that I lied about being bothered just so he could swing by and I could spend time with him. I thought maybe if I got him alone, I could break through some of that shyness. Make him realize what a fine-ass woman I am and how he needs to snap me up.
I sigh, looking around my spotless tiny house. No one's gonna snap me up, it seems.
I had such high hopes, too. Cleaned my house, wore new panties, and sprayed fresh perfume. My old master—a crotchety old mesakkah—told me that humans stank to alien noses, and so I constantly had to wear perfume around him and change my clothes. I've been doing the same around Rektar in the hopes that he won't mind my scent, but it doesn't seem to be working. I even brought my dirty laundry out to the barn so he wouldn't smell it if he came inside.
I cringe, realizing he's about to go to the barn and get a big ol' whiff of my dirty clothes. Shit. I stare down at the root I'm cutting and want to throw it all aside. Why bother? I'm just going to end up alone.