He nods, and I flit away up the stairs to visit with Khesan.
In his room, he is opening his bags and sorting through his clothes. He’s brought enough, it looks like, but it’s all in the same style as what he’s wearing now—a kind of beige robe over leggings, with a slot in the back for his long tail and a belt around the middle. All of his other clothes are similar but in varying earth tones.
“How come all aliens wear the same thing?” I ask, studying him in the doorway. “Gazargo was wearing that, too, and so was Roth’kar when I met him.”
Khesan turns to me. “It is the style in the galaxy.” He shrugs and holds up one item. “Where should I put them?”
He is far more at home than Shathar, clearly ready to make the space his. I’m glad he feels so comfortable.
My home is his home now, I suppose.
“There are hangers in the closet,” I say, opening it up for him. He gazes at the door.
“So rustic,” he says with a pleased sigh. “I like it.”
I wonder what closet doors are like where he comes from.
“Is your society much more advanced?” I wish I had been given some information about my groom—er, grooms—before they arrived. But Amara had this problem, too, with the Matching Program. They gave her no information at all before she met Roth’kar.
“Yes, but we live a simple life still. We were also brought into the Intergalactic Association of Civilizations by the Frahma, and had not achieved interstellar travel. But we have adapted to alien technology over the last few hundred years and integrated it into our home lives.”
Earth has been pretty resistant to change since aliens first landed, but that hasn’t been terribly surprising. Even the spaceport still has regular old doors, not fancy space doors.
“Thank you,” Khesan says, taking a step toward me. “Thank you for having me in your home, and for agreeing to this marriage. I’m thrilled for the life we have ahead of us, and I look forward to learning more about you.”
Gosh, they’re both so romantic.
He leans down so his snout is close to my cheek, and I can feel his light breaths on my ear. It makes all the hair on my neck stand on end.
“I hope to learn everything,” he says in a whisper.
Before I can respond, he withdraws and starts hanging up his clothes.
“This will certainly be an adventure,” I quip, trying to lighten the air. I’m surprised by how my body responded to that. “I’m excited to learn more about you, too.”
Khesan shoots me a smile, or as close as the Arshurians seem to get to a smile, which is rather toothy.
I leave him to it, heading downstairs to think about dinner. I was going to cook something tonight, but I only bought enough food for two. I might have to order pizza.
Shaking my head, I put in an order for two big pizzas plus wings, because I don’t really know what Arshurians eat. I assumed regular human food, but Shathar and Khesan are rather… not as humanoid as I expected. Roth’kar’s main feature is his four arms, followed by the cute antennae. My new husbands are distinctly alien.
Not saying that’s a turnoff. In fact, the way both Shathar and Khesan treated me today, like some kind of queen, I won’t say it didn’t affect me. They’re romantics, and truthfully, I’ve always wanted someone to be a romantic to me.
We survive eating dinner that night, but there’s no shortage of sniping on the part of my two new grooms as they fight over the last few wings.
I knew I should’ve ordered more wings.
“This was a lovely meal,” Shathar says at the end, once the two of them have obliterated the pizzas and the wings both. “I’m delighted with what I’ve had of Earthling food so far.”
Khesan mutters a grudging agreement.
“Well, there’s lots more out there,” I say.
“Like this ‘Mexican food’ the Frahma talked about?” asks Khesan, fans flaring.
“Yes, like that.” What is it with aliens and Mexican food? “And more.”
Shathar gathers up the boxes from dinner. “Where should these go?”
