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“Oh, no. It is already done! You only just got here and it has been a long journey for you! I am not going to make you cook for me!”
“You’re… You don’t want me to cook for you?” I asked. That made no sense. My dad hadn’t made a meal for himself… well… ever.
“It is already taken care of,” Fallon said breezily. Then, more seriously, he added “I can be a provider for you, Darcy. Let me.”
So what the hell did this guy need a wife for, then?
Sex. It had to be sex. I thought about his excitement at the wedding, the way he’d nearly ended up buck naked and brandishing his raging boner in front of everyone, and realized that must be it. He was used to doing all his own chores and fending for himself in the kitchen, but he was no longer content to fuck his own fist at night.
I followed him inside, trying to calm my nerves and preparing myself to consummate our wedding tonight.
The back door led us into a small sort of mud room. It had a few brooms, buckets, and extra pairs of boots. I went to remove mine before going inside, but Fallon balked.
“Oh, no, keep them on! I don’t want you to get dirty,” he insisted. “I do my best with the dust, but…” He trailed off, his tail flicking behind him in what seemed to be a sort of shrug.
I eyed that tail, remembering how strong and prehensile it had been holding Sora back by her collar. How come I’d never seen it dragging around in the dirt? It’s not like he looped it over his shoulder like rope when it wasn’t in use.
“I can certainly help you with keeping the floors clean,” I responded automatically. Cleaning was another area I’d been well trained in.
“If you enjoy that sort of work, you are welcome to try,” Fallon said with a grimace and another flicker of that snakey orange tail. “But it’s a rather impossible task. Everything you manage in one day is undone by the next.”
OK. This guy was way too nice. I was starting to worry it meant he was going to want some really freaky fucking shit in the bedroom.
I tried to push that possibility out of my mind and nodded. Fallon turned to open a door. With his back to me once more, I finally saw it. A small metal hook on the back of his belt. His tail snapped up and looped around the hook in an oddly satisfying movement, hanging easily there as he opened the door.
Light flooded in, as well as warmth. It had been hot during the day, but the air was cooling now that the sun had set. But in the next room, which looked to be a kitchen, it was cozy and bright. A big fire blazed in an open hearth, and candles had been lit on a windowsill as well as on a rustic-looking table with old, mis-matched chairs. Plates of food had already been laid out, presumably when I’d been squeezing Sora half-to-death. It looked like a nice assortment of meats, fruits, root vegetables, and maybe some pickled items.
I didn’t realize just how hungry I was until I sat down. Magnolia was already at the table, and the two of us inhaled our food. We’d eaten on the shuttle, but that was back in the morning.
If Fallon was hungry, he didn’t show it. Which honestly didn’t make sense, because he’d gone just as long as we had without eating. With the amount of muscle that man had to maintain, he had to be ravenous.
But he didn’t eat. He didn’t even sit down. Instead, he hovered around us, refilling water cups and plates, his gaze sometimes flicking over to Magnolia but mostly fastened on me.
At one point, he reached up as if to run his clawed fingers through his hair but they bumped his hat instead. He looked surprised for a moment, like he’d forgotten it was there, and then he quickly took it off and set it on the stone counter by the sink.
I knew that Magnolia and I saw his ears at the exact same time, because precisely one millisecond later, our gazes met, both of us with wide eyes that screamed the soundless cry of What the fuck?
The man had the cutest fucking ears in existence. Silky-looking, rounded, and sticking straight up from his skull, they looked like something that belonged on a Terratribe II field mouse, not a seven-foot-something alien male.
So cute! Magnolia mouthed to me from across the table.
She did not tell a single fucking lie. His ears were so adorable it was practically a crime. No one should be allowed to have a face that fine, a body that insane, all topped off with cute little cartoon mousey ears. It went against every single law of nature not to mention my own sense of justice, balance, and fairness.
Completely oblivious to Magnolia and me losing our collective human shit over the discovery of Zabrian ears, Fallon buzzed around like a sexy, mouse-eared, orange bumblebee, getting us yet more water. Magnolia used the next moment to excuse herself to go freshen up, and Fallon began to clear away the empty plates.
I forced myself to focus. Or, rather, the echo of my mother’s voice did. A proper wife wouldn’t sit around on her ass and make her husband clean up like this. I jumped up, reaching for a plate at the exact moment that Fallon did. Our hands collided, and the plate went smashing to the ground.
“I’m so sorry!” I said instantly, half-expecting the whizz of a wooden spoon towards the back of my head. Of course, it didn’t come. My stomach muscles tightened, my face hot as I knelt down on the floor and reached for one of the broken pieces.
“Darcy, don’t!”
Before I could grab one of the pieces, something smooth, warm, and strong wrapped itself around my wrist. Fallon’s tail tugged my hand firmly and away from the mess.
Shit. He was pissed. Well, now was as good a time as any to find out what made my husband tick. If it made him tick loudly enough, or explosively enough, maybe I would have to leave at the end of the thirty days of the trial marriage after all. I absolutely refused to stay with an angry, abusive man. Even if I had to scrub toilets or sell drugs or strip on Elora Station, I wouldn’t submit to the destiny my mother had picked out for me.
I would have rather died.
I pulled experimentally against Fallon’s hold on my wrist, but that tail was like an iron fucking chain around my arm.
