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Incoming Tablet Communication Cherry Dawson: It happens when they feel strong emotions. Anger, surprise. Sexy, smushy feelings for their gorgeous human wife <3
Outgoing Tablet Communication Darcy Dubois: Oh God.
Incoming Tablet Communication Cherry Dawson: Fallon luuuuurves you. He’s obsessed with you. He wants to get into your tight, human pants.
Outgoing Tablet Communication Darcy Dubois: Please stop.
Incoming Tablet Communication Cherry Dawson: Fallon and Darcy, sitting in a shuttle. Kissing and smooching and having a nice cuddle. Fallon is paper and Darcy is rock. Fallon wants her to touch his…
Outgoing Tablet Communication Darcy Dubois: I’m turning my comms tablet off now.
Outgoing Tablet Communication Darcy Dubois: …Thanks, Cherry.
13
DARCY
“Do you think it’s bad that he’s not home yet?”
Magnolia and I had already eaten an evening meal. The dinner plate I’d fixed for Fallon remained untouched on the table. I leaned on one of the kitchen windowsills, staring out the window, my brows knitting. It was a lot darker than it should have been. Yes, the sun was setting, but the sky was a roiling, ominous charcoal. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled.
“I’m sure he’s alright,” Magnolia said soothingly, washing her plate and placing it on the counter. “He’s lived here a long time. He knows what he’s doing.”
“Yeah… Yeah,” I replied noncommittally, completely unconvinced. I didn’t like that Fallon was still outside this late. At least not without checking in. Especially with a storm brewing.
Fuck me. I was worried. Worried about my big, muscly, dope of a rancher who was about as likely to encounter any real trouble on his fenced property as I was to wake up with green hair tomorrow.
And still…
Bleh.
“I think I’m going to go out and look for him.”
“I’ll come with you,” Magnolia said instantly. I felt my face soften as I turned from the window and towards her.
“No, it’s alright. I won’t be long.” I was just being a big dumb baby for some reason. And with the storm heading our way, there was no sense in both of us going out there and getting soaked or worse.
Someone please tell me why I’m about to risk getting my ass cooked by lightning for this big orange fool?
“Are you sure?” Magnolia called after me. I was already heading into the mudroom for the back door.
“I’m sure!” I shouted back as I opened the door. The wind was whipping up, an ominous, undulating shriek. Fallon’s ranch property, with its back buildings and gardens and trees, had looked gorgeous and picturesque earlier. But in the bleak, flat storm light, it looked like a scene from some creepy Gothic bedtime story.
Shivering, both from the spooky atmosphere and the noticeable drop in temperature, I plunged out into the falling dark.
I realized not two minutes into my boneheaded escapade that I’d left without my comms tablet, having put it aside after messaging Cherry earlier. I also should have brought a jacket. My arms currently bare, prickled with gooseflesh. My hair snapped around my face. I walked faster, my long legs making a pretty decent distance and helping to keep the worst of the chill at bay.
But Fallon’s property was staggering in its size. And he had a pretty sizeable amount of some tall-ish crop that looked like it could be comparable to a Terratribe II corn or wheat. It obscured huge swaths of the land and the perimeter from my gaze, even with my height.
I could be out here all night at this rate.
He’s probably fine. This is stupid. If anything, I’m going to be the one who twists an ankle or something ridiculous out here. Really, do I honestly think the seven-foot-something wall of muscle and confidence that is my husband is going to need my help?
Those were the kinds of things I told myself. But I never turned around.
Fallon was obviously even taller than I was, and would have been visible even in the gloom at a distance, so after a quick scan of the more open pastures, I headed for the edges of the property, skirting around the long alien corn-or-wheat things. I walked between the plants and the fence line, swallowing nerves at the way the wind pushed so forcefully against the shivering stalks.
I made swift (in terms of steps) and slow (in terms of percentage of perimeter covered) progress, moving counterclockwise around the entire property, following the fence line. That seemed to be a big portion of what Fallon did all day – maintaining and repairing the fences. Wherever he was, I figured I had a good chance of finding him this way.
