She nodded. “Good. Okay. That will work. A week off should be enough time, I think.”
“Excellent. We’ll leave Earth on Friday.”
Raphael stepped away from her, though he didn’t want to. “I’ll go and get started on our plans.” He grabbed Francine’s hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of her knuckles, just like he’d seen someone at the Big Bang Truck Stop do. Wyatt Campbell. The sheriff had stared lovingly at his bride, Valene, like she was the only other person in the world and kissed the back of her hand. Valene had looked like Wyatt handed her the world on a platter.
Raphael thought the gesture had been romantic. Francine’s cheeks flushed with color when his lips met her skin. Her small hands were soft, and their gazes locked before, during and after his gentle kiss.
“When will I see you again?” she asked in a whisper.
“Tomorrow. We should make our new engagement known around town. It wouldn’t hurt for that rumor to spread and pave the way on our trip.”
“Good idea. I agree. Can’t wait.”
Raphael planted a short, swift kiss on her lips. “I can’t wait, either.”
Francine looked across her small living room. “I’ll let you out through the front door instead of the garage. It’s not like we want to hide our connection from anyone.” She moved to the door. “Do you have a place to go?”
“What?”
“Do you have a place to go, like a motel or something?” she asked, her gaze seeming to convey some kind of unspoken message he wasn’t picking up. Was she asking him to stay over?
Raphael wanted to say he was homeless and ask her to take him in. Reluctantly, he said, “I do have a place to stay, belowstairs at the truck stop. Thanks for asking.”
Her obvious disappointment gratified him when she said, “Okay. Until tomorrow.”
He exited her place before she could ask him outright to stay, because he’d deny her nothing. Using his speedy ability, Raphael fast-walked to the Big Bang Truck Stop’s aliens-only entry point and was in his room before anyone could stop him to chat.
Francine stayed on his mind as he fell asleep. He thought about the way she looked when he kissed her. Extraordinary. Her sweet expression when he kissed her hand. The way she moved and talked and simply existed. Was he infatuated? Perhaps. Would she ever consider a life as the bride of a bounty hunter? Did he want a wife? Maybe, but only if Francine was his intended.
And wasn’t that a crazy thought. It had been a long, long time since he’d considered a future for himself that involved a woman at his side.
This journey might be equal parts agony and ecstasy if she wasn’t interested in any sort of a future with him after their adventure ended.
Francine slept fitfully after Raphael departed. She’d been about to ask him to stay the night, which would have been impulsive. Although he’d caught her eye a couple of months ago, she hadn’t really talked to him in any significant way until tonight. It was hasty to invite a guy to spend the night right after talking to him for the first time, wasn’t it? Yes. It most definitely was. She hadn’t been that rash since…well, since just before her former love betrayed her.
She watched through the narrow slit in her drawn living room curtains as Raphael crossed the street. Suddenly, he was gone in a blur. Ichor-Delta fast, he’d said. Vampirically fast, she’d insisted, and smiled at the memory.
She dreamed about him, of course. How could she not? In her dreams, her mind rewrote the embarrassment of the last wedding debacle, changing it to include Raphael, standing in front of her swinging an ancient battle axe menacingly in one hand and cradling her kitten, Angel, in the other.
In this new version, no one threw her out of the reception. No guards dragged her out and put her on a shuttle bound straight for Earth. Instead, Raphael handed her the kitten, grabbed her up in a one-armed clench and together they left the reception as he spouted threats of a royally commanded social demise for her parents.
The dream was far better than the facts of that debacle, but so farfetched as to make her laugh when she woke and thought about it. Before her eyes opened, she felt something soft, warm and furry cuddled against her cheek. Angel had managed to climb up the blanket and find a spot next to her face on the pillow. Francine opened one eye and looked at the clock on her nightstand. It was early. She didn’t have to get up yet. Her shift didn’t start until late tonight. She burrowed further beneath the covers to conjure more dreams about her bounty hunter.
An hour later, she woke to hear the phone on her nightstand playing a distinctive clip of music, signaling a call from her sister. Francine smiled sleepily. She sure had a lot to share after her interesting evening.
“Hi, Lucy.”
“Fancy, are you alone?” her sister whispered, using her favored nickname as if some clandestine plan were underway.
“What? Of course I’m alone.”Wait. Why would she ask that?
“I just came from the Supernova Supermarket where a new cashier gave me an earful about you, an orphaned black kitten and a certain delicious-looking bounty hunter with whom you apparently went home. She heavily implied there were some sort of carnal activities on the menu for you last night.”
Francine gulped. “What?! She did not!” She never would have suspected Roberta of dropping a dime on her.
“Oh, yes, she did. Carnal activities were mentioned more than once during her summation. And all the people in the grocery line behind me got an earful, too. I suspect I wasn’t the first to hear the story, either. So, I’ll ask again—are you alone?”
