Does he not believe me?
“Hiding in plain sight is an exceptional plan,” I added, in case he needed the validation. “So we’ll head to the nearest Muonova.”
Micah remained silent, but I was satisfied with our plan. Turning in my chair, I faced the dashboard to set our course, focusing all my attention on maneuvering my ship to safety.
And my precious cargo.
It wasn’t until we were clear of Stellaria’s atmosphere that my stellar collision spoke again. “Not to be a Debbie Downer, but… I’m not sure bringing a babyto abaris the best idea.”
I huffed, unsure who this “Debbie” was and why their uneducated opinion held any weight here. “Muonovas are neutral zones where enemies and allies must coexist or risk being black-bagged.”
Micah furrowed his brow. “Do you mean blacklisted?”
“No,” I replied, disabling our cloaking device once we were out on the Intergalactic Highway so as not to seem suspicious. “Black-bagged. Forcibly removed and never heard from again. It would be bad for business if Muonovas were nothing but violence and bar brawls.”
Even if that’s still a large part of the appeal.
At least, formeit is.
When my mate continued to taste like uncertainty, I swiveled to face him, realizing reassurances were needed. “I promise, sunshine, I will protect Pedro from harm. We will simply stick to the more… family friendly areas of the Muonova, like the market district.”
Not to be confused with the neighboring red light district.
Micah’s eyes lit up. “Oh, right! I forgot about the market.” He chewed his bottom lip for a moment, his big, beautiful brain whirring away. “Hey, maybe we could stock up on supplies for Pedro while we’re there?”
I nodded thoughtfully. “Yes. If we find a vendor from the Yaaritzi galaxy, they might carry metalwork strong enough to prevent Pedro from infiltrating the air ducts again.”
My mate snickered. “Baby proofing the ship isn’t a bad idea, but I was talking about toys and games and stuff.”
Toys and games?
“For…enrichment?”I rolled the word over my tongue, still processing the foreign concept Zion had mentioned during our phone conversation.
Novasweren’t encouraged to play—at least, not under the regime I grew up with. I’d learned how to kill my opponent from the inside and out, how to be useful to Stellarian society as a whole, but I couldn’t recall ever participating in a ‘game’ until I played Deathball as an undercover superhero on Earth.
A sport that would have been better with actual deaths…
“Exactly.” Micah climbed onto the captain’s chair with me, straddling my lap and cupping my face before grinning wildly. “Look at you, being a good Space Daddy to our little alien baby.”
I huffed, annoyed when my dick stirred once again at the idea of “making space babies” with my stellar collision.
This is ridiculous.
“I am simply utilizing the intel your brother shared on keeping a child alive.” I frowned. “Apparently, there’s more to it than simply providing food, water, and shelter.”
Micah delivered a sweet kiss to my lips that instantly settled me. “Yeah, there’s more to it, but we’ll just have to figure it out as we go.”
I don’t like the sound of that.
“You seem to already know what to do,” I muttered sourly, even as I gazed at him in admiration. “A natural provider.”
The perfect mate.
It was Micah’s turn to huff, his cheeks darkening deliciously. “I wouldn’t say it’s totally natural… I just had a good role model.”
“Who?” I scoffed, angry on his behalf all over again. “Your parents were terrible to you—toallyour siblings.”
Worse than Theo.
