Page 3 of 20% Stud 80% Muffin (Alien Fated Mates #1)

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M y arrival in Yurstille was not earth-shattering, and meeting Mayor Yurst, the settlement’s namesake, was unremarkable, but convincing myself to take the leap had been giant. Still, I questioned my decision to leave Earth for the fifteenth time today as I leaned back against my creaky chair. My new office extended off one side of the shared sono like an afterthought. Haphazardly built, it did nothing to extol the virtues of an architect.

My mind drifted—a defense mechanism to avoid the overwhelming amount of work that needed to be caught up on—and thoughts of my first day on Tern took over.

Mayor Yurst had greeted me in the arrival port, shaking my hand like he was drawing water from an old-fashioned pump. “Welcome to Tern and the settlement of Yurstille.” The tufts on his catlike ears shook.

With every arm crank, my stomach had roiled, and I’d longed for a breath of fresh air now that I stood on solid ground once more. Nausea had been my worst enemy, shuttling through space, and I’d remained locked in my small cabin, heaving, for most of the journey.

Yurst cranked my arm up and down again. “Thank you, Archbuilder Geo. So many thanks for accepting this very important role.”

Saliva pooled in my mouth as I swallowed down bile, but I plastered on a smile and nodded at the man who stood a head shorter than me, wearing an outfit befitting a leprechaun, minus the top hat. I exhaled when he dropped my hand at last. The hangar we were walking through was a blur as I focused on the daylight I’d spotted ahead.

An overhead bay door stood open halfway, and we ducked underneath it. Immediately, a gust of wind coated me in a layer of fine pink soil, and I choked, coughing to clear my throat. Damn it, it is like Tatooine.

“My, my,” Mayor Yurst said, patting my back. “It does take a bit of getting used to, but before you know it, you’ll feel like you’ve been here forever. I’ll just give you a bit of a tour and leave you at the sono to settle.”

The list of new colonizers who required homes unfurled in front of me, across my desk, like a never-ending story. My head throbbed. The Tern equivalent of Tylenol would barely take the edge off my growing headache. It was as if quicksand was slowly sucking me under.

‘Install fountain around statue’ was at the top of the list, underlined and triple asterisked. Under the list of all the colonizers’ names—most unpronounceable to me—it said ‘school, library, recri-plaza and jail.’ The more I thought about designing a jail that could contain winged, behemoth-sized and knee-sized aliens, the more my head ached. At least it was last on the list. Mayor Yurst would have put it at the top of the list if he were concerned, right?

What I really wanted from the mayor was a few words of wisdom on where construction should begin. Who was next on the list? Instead, his obsequious thanks for coming to Tern curdled my stomach, and I remained clueless about whose house to build first. The homeowner with the biggest teeth?

The previous archbuilder, a white-winged Nacer, had lived in an aviary on a cliff top before his demise. As a human with two legs, claiming it as my own was impossible. Instead, I had to share a sono, much like a dormitory, with my work crew of Rock Dwellers. Giant, gray-skinned and bald, their snores were so loud they rattled the floor my bed stood on.

Fortunately, I’d worked out a system with my foreman, JayJay, in my first week here. He was quickly becoming my go-to Rock Dweller for all things alien. He constantly chirped at me about how my mouth hung open whenever a new alien species approached. Or when I stared slack-jawed at the hollow squawk of the tiny flying woodskie, no bigger than a hummingbird. He especially loved when the lunal weed that grew under the moon’s light trapped me in its snare. But JayJay was a building machine, and his math skills were off the charts by Earth standards.

JayJay and I filed outside to the warehouse to complete the weekly inventory—JayJay in his head and me on my wristport. My mouth watered when I swallowed honey-scented air. I forced my wide eyes back to normal, hoping he wouldn’t notice as a species with a lizard tail trailing along the ground walked by.

“I can count your teeth,” JayJay joked as he jostled my shoulder, nearly knocking me on my ass.

“Yeah, yeah. You got me, funny guy.” I casually nodded toward the alien species new to me. “What planet is he from?”

Every day I witnessed something new. Yesterday, it had rained so hard it turned the unpaved streets into pink mud, not unlike the river of strawberries on the Candyland board game from my childhood .

JayJay’s brow ridges popped. Though his long, bony protrusion didn’t have any hair, it seemed to function just the same as eyebrows as he scanned the alien in question. “That is Raz S’Lant. He is from the recently war-ravaged planet, Hotner. Lucky for you, his dwelling is already built.”

When would I stop acting like the new kid on the block?

I recited Ginger’s words in my head. “Do not criticize yourself in any capacity for the first three months, and even then, do so with kindness. Promise me, Geo. You’ve been your own worst enemy for too long.”

“Bish, I know that look, boss man. Cheer up.” JayJay dragged me back to the task at hand. His slow speech sent a wave of calm through me.

I pressed the translator embedded behind my ear when “bish” didn’t register. It had been injected on the shuttle to Tern. The instant ability to communicate in intergalactically recognized languages was mind-boggling. Every time I said a word that went untranslated, JayJay listed all the synonyms to fill the gaps in our translators.

We walked back through the arched entrance of my office. The list that kept me awake at night remained spread across my desk like a tablecloth that could span three more tables, and I tipped my head to the side. “Bish?”

“You know, boss man, like, c’mon, or forget about it, or no big deal.”

He was right I did need to loosen up a little. Though I’d never been as laid back as JayJay, his affirming head nods and constant laughter told me I was doing okay so far. One person liking me was enough of a start. I’d goggled at his giant size for far too long in the first week, but he hadn’t appeared to mind. The other inhabitants only had a few months on me, anyways. Tern leveled the playing field. Everyone started new here, and from the way a young Nacer had tripped over his wing tips a couple days back, many had never seen a human before.

JayJay’s three fingers spread over my desktop where he leaned. “Time idles when you live in the past. ”

I still grew weepy-eyed over leaving Pika and Charz behind. The only thing that had stopped the downward spiral of depression caused by moving to another planet was Ginger moving into my house. A win-win for all.

My dogs weren’t the only thing I’d left behind. Cameron had sweet-talked me into letting him stay, but when I’d broached the subject of him taking good care of the house, his lips had curled into a snarl. “You want me to take care of your grandma’s house and your dogs for a goddamn year?”

Our house. Our dogs.

“Geo, I always knew you were delusional, but if you think I’ll wait a year for your fat ass and small dick, think again. Think again.”

The memory of Cameron’s caustic reply still burned the ragged edges of my heart.

So instead, Ginger had moved into my home with my dogs. I exhaled and pushed my hands into my overall pockets. Everything I loved on Earth would be cared for in one tidy package. Now, I needed to move on—a nearly impossible concept when my brain drifted to Cameron’s last words every second thought.

“Call me when you get back. Maybe we can meet for a coffee or something.”

Fat chance!

Even if the linen scent of his shirt—freshly laundered by me—still lingered in my nose, I was done with Cameron. He could turn dramatically on one foot all he liked, and all I would say to him was sayonara.

JayJay drummed his fingers on my desktop, refocusing me. “Stop thinking of those dodges you left behind.”

“Dogs, pups, puppies, doggies—all names you can use for Charz and Pika. A Dodge is like a type of hovercraft.”

So far, responding with variations of the unrecognized word had confused us more than helped, but I couldn’t wait to hear JayJay, an eight-foot behemoth with muscles the size of boulders, say, ‘doggies.’

“Here comes our first appointment,” JayJay announced as my wristport pinged.

Ayla Rowtee smoothed a hand over the long dress covering her pregnant belly, then clasped her husband’s hand. They sat angled on a wooden bench, so their wings wouldn’t brush the roughly finished wall.

Her head tilted to the side like an owl, and she opened her short beak to speak. “The previous archbuilder had approved our plans already and was just about to build when he fell from a ladder.”

Mayor Yurst had been tight-lipped when he’d discussed the former archbuilder. “I wondered what happened to him.”

Her husband, Tarik, snapped his wings together tightly. “His wings were bound from the beam he was carrying on his back, and…”

Ayla shuddered and clutched her husband’s hand tighter. “We really need something rather soon.” She pointed a long finger at her belly.

Tarik clacked his beak at his wife, then turned to face me where I sat behind my desk. “You must be under a lot of pressure.” He glanced at the long roll of paper. “We trust you’ve scheduled us according to our arrival date.”

The husband and wife chattered back and forth, her with urgency, him not wanting to offend. It was cute that they thought there was a method to the scheduling madness. According to arrival date wasn’t a bad idea though. I’d have to run that by JayJay.

“Let me sum this up. You’re interested in a dwelling.” JayJay and the rest of the crew had drilled the term ‘dwelling’ into my vocabulary over the last week when I’d drawn one too many blank looks after saying house. Did I find it odd that the translator could translate chandelier perfectly but couldn’t translate house? Yep. But I wasn’t going to complain. It was one hundred percent more effective than charades. “Up high, fairly remote, but where you can see what’s happening around you? Also, time is of the essence.”

Their wings fluttered behind them, their eagerness uncontained as both feathered heads bobbed in agreement. I caught my foreman’s gaze, and JayJay’s grin echoed mine .

“Well, Ayla and Tarik, I have fantastic news.” The bigger my smile grew, the more their feathers quivered. “As the previous archbuilder can no longer use his nearly new dwelling, I’m pleased to offer you the cliff-top aviary to make your own.”

Ayla and Tarik’s heads turned directly toward the aviary like homing beacons. “Thank the goddess Sola,” she muttered. “Archbuilder Geo, you have made us so happy.” Ayla’s face shimmered as tears wet her face.

Tarik wrapped his winged arms around her and stood proudly. “When our first youngling is brought into this world, we would be honored for you to attend the naming ceremony.”

I tipped my chin and stood to shake their hands but stopped at the last minute. Handshakes were not always welcome, and I couldn’t remember the Nacers’ practice at that moment. “It would be my pleasure.”

Ayla and Tarik departed my office before immediately flying to the aviary.

JayJay crouched low beside my desk. “That is a rare offer for a Nacer to make. The value they place on the privacy of their younglings is known throughout the galaxies.”

I pressed a hand to my aching ear. “Were you trying to whisper that?”

“Bish. I can be quiet.” JayJay shrugged.

Quieter than what? A jetliner?

The marker skidded satisfyingly across the paper covering my desk when I struck a line through the Rowtees’ names. I enjoyed the comfort of paper for a visual tally, but I also logged it in the more sophisticated digital system for official record keeping.

“That was an easy one.” I nudged JayJay with my elbow.

Like the static air surrounding Dorothy before the tornado pulled her into the Land of Oz, a frisson of energy pricked the hair on my forearms. A tall, tailed silhouette appeared in the doorway, haloed in sunlight .

Life experience had taught me to pay attention to these moments, because something life-changing always followed, but this was a new level of awareness. Each hair follicle tingled—the nerves beneath lit up by a bone-deep vibration.

“Is this the archbuilder’s?”

The smooth voice raised the frequency of the vibration, honing it until my entire body hummed. Then a strong-jawed male, blue-skinned, with a face trimmed in a multi-hued blue mane, walked into the office. My mind went blank for two seconds before registering that he must be our next appointment.

What was his name? Makir?

Yes, Makir. His name was next on the list that puddled around my feet. His mane fanned out and reached the center of his back, and when he turned his hand to check the time on his wristport, he showed off smooth blue palms. Everywhere else he was uncovered appeared to be furred in my favorite color: blueprint blue.

One of the reasons I had studied architecture, I often joked with Ginger, was because of the stacks of blueprints old world architects’ desks used to be buried in. Little did I know that I would end up with a similar stack of papers on my own messy desk.

Makir’s long, thin, fur-tipped tail coiled around his waist and hugged him as he approached the table where I sat, widening at the base where it breached the jumpsuit he wore. His silver eyes met mine, then flashed to lavender so quickly I wasn’t entirely sure it had happened before his gaze immediately slid to the floor. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something familiar about him.

How could that be? My mind had turned to jelly.

I’d never met an alien before my interview, and not face to face until I’d set foot on the shuttle to this planet. I snapped my fingers.

Makir jolted, his eyes glued to my fingers.

He was the same species as the pair depicted on the brochures Ginger had force-fed me weekly for the last couple of years.

I jerked upright and bumped the table that acted as my desk, sending a shower of papers flying over Makir. I thrust my hand out in the worst unreciprocated handshake ever as my notes floated down. My tingling skin drove away rational behavior, and before I had control of my voice, I barked, “Archbuilder Geo.”

JayJay’s brow ridges furrowed as if to ask ‘What’s wrong with you?’

I gave myself a mental smack. How stupid could I get? I knew handshakes were not universally acceptable greetings.

My new client took two strides backward and fully clamped his arms to his sides. His focus turned to his pant legs, which were caked in pink mud and matched my office’s unfinished floor. I dropped my hand and gripped the edge of my desk until my knuckles turned white.

Stop acting like a clown.

Everything I’d learned about respecting the customs of different species had flown out of my head. Still, for some reason, I yearned to know how soft the fur on the back of his hands was. The prickly sensation doubled under my skin.

“I’m Makir,” he muttered as his tail snapped behind him. “I have an appointment about my dwelling and hovery.” He paused, then stood tall—well over a foot taller than me—and after he spoke, his tail abruptly stilled as if forced. His eyes met my nose and rose no higher. I wanted to see the silver again.

My stomach pitched and soured the same way it had on the two-week shuttle to Tern. Once gravity had been reinstated, I’d stopped puking and acclimatized. Still, every time the shuttle had stopped to pick up colonizers for Yurstille, my stomach had dipped and hollowed, threatening to spill once more.

“I have drawn up some ideas.” Makir pressed the button on his wristport, displaying the images he had worked up. Into the air, he projected what looked like a well-planned mechanic’s shop with bay doors, and a bedroom and kitchen appeared hastily added, as if an afterthought.

“What type of material is this?” JayJay’s slow drawl eased some of the tension as he pointed to what looked like windows to me.

Makir shifted onto the balls of his feet, and his tense shoulders dropped as he focused on his plans. “I’ve yet to retrieve them, but my last trip to the wastelands uncovered sheets of lamar. I can supply them. If you can install them. ”

The room filled with an enticing juniper scent. Inhaling, I settled back in my chair, my hands loose in my lap.

JayJay’s lawnmower-like laugh echoed through the bare-bones office. “Rock Dweller building crews can install anything.”

I thrust out my chest. “And now that a human is in charge, no job is impossible.”

Fuck, could I have sounded any more arrogant?

JayJay’s head whipped toward me, but he said nothing. I tried again, leaning across the table to inhale more of Makir’s fragrant juniper scent, but the tingling under my skin undermined coherent thought.

“What I mean is humans have a long history of building incredible things. The Great Pyramids used thousands of enslaved people…” I stalled, quickly backtracking, searching for a better example. I swallowed hard. “Coast-to-coast railways crisscross the largest continents on Earth. Oppressed minorities built most…”

My subconscious was working against me. Obviously, there were some repressed emotions I was dealing with at the moment, now that I was one of the smaller species and the lone human around. Formal hierarchy on Tern was nonexistent. A hodgepodge of species across the Reiner System had answered the call to recolonize. But if shit hit the fan, razor-sharp teeth and boulder-sized muscles would out-compete any skills I had to offer.

“Maybe you best stop there, boss man,” JayJay said, widening his eyes, and Makir stepped farther away.

Makir muttered under his breath, barely audible, “Great, the new archbuilder comes from a long line of power-hungry alphas.”

Instead of digging myself into a deeper hole, I forced my butt back into my chair and loosened my hands in my lap. I filled my nose with the juniper scent saturating the room. Like a balm, it soothed the prickling itch under my skin, drawing me into a trance-like state .

Typically the taskmaster, I kept meetings on time. My foreman tended to get carried away digging into the minutiae of what the dwelling owners wanted. But today, I would have happily let JayJay and Makir carry on if it meant I could openly observe this blue alien. When he relaxed, the fluid grace of his tail was beautiful to my eyes, and his voice lulled me into complacency. The more I watched him, the more I wanted to know him. Was the fur tip of his tail silky? Or was it brittle and impossible to run my fingers through, like Cameron’s gelled hair?

My wristport pinged and I shot upright in my chair. I needed to schedule longer meetings.

If Cameron’s nephew had been there, he would’ve said Makir resembled Glaceon, his all-time favorite Pokémon next to Charizard and Pikachu, whom my dogs were named after. Only Makir was bigger, much bigger, and much more human-like. I smiled. Maybe there would be a picture from Ginger of my puppies’ latest antics today.

A second notification startled me. The next client would be waiting. Back rigid in my chair, I lifted my chin. “I’ll send you an invite for two days from now at seven o’clock.” I cleared my throat and corrected myself, “I mean, seven suns…to review the final drawing before your build proceeds on Monday. Please com me if you need to reschedule. If you’ll excuse me, I have another matter I must attend to.” The prickly sensation deepened to a vibration that rolled through me, and I dug my heels into the floor to combat it.

What’s with the deep voice?

JayJay’s brow ridges scrunched, and Makir locked his eyes on my nose.

JayJay’s gaze bounced from Makir to me. “You mean new week. Right, boss man?”

Makir nodded at my nose and quickly scurried out of the office.

I mumbled, “Yeah, new week.”

“You have another matter you must attend to?” JayJay teased in his rumbly voice. “What stick crawled up your ass? ”

“Did you feel that?” I ignored his jab.

“You mean your small male syndrome?” JayJay rumbled at the same time he slapped his knee.

“The tingling. Did you feel the vibrations under your skin?”

He shook his head as he walked to the adjoined kitchen. “Are all people from Earth short and crazy?”

The strange, prickly vibrations that had intensified the whole time Makir was near quieted. With some respite to think, I cringed. Apparently, my haywire brain had turned me into a trumped-up politician who’d dismissed Makir like he was nothing. Maybe I could apologize with an upgrade on the house? Would he like a heated towel bar?

Slumped in my chair after the final appointment of the day, I sipped a glass of water. JayJay passed me a slice of graneth bread smeared with peanut butter-type spread, munching one of his own. The flavor took me back to elementary school, where I could find a version of the same sandwich in my Spiderman lunch kit most days.

“Do you think our plan is too ambitious?”

“Bish, boss man. The crew is solid.” His slow speech helped to unwind my bunched shoulders. “Eight dwellings a month, no problems.”

Before I could finish my food, my head lolled. JayJay’s chortle woke me. “Real food, then bed. Bish, let’s go.”

I blindly followed JayJay to the kitchen we shared with the rest of the crew. They’d been on-site all day, building. While I listened to the loud but happy chatter surrounding me, the first stirrings of friendship took root, spreading warmth through my chest.

Convinced that something in the alien air had caused my erratic behavior this morning, I brushed off the warnings my body had sent earlier. Instead, I declared I would act perfectly normal the next time I saw Makir. There would be no skin tingling, no deep voice and no handshaking, no matter how much I wanted to know how soft his fur was.