"I'm... visiting right now," I said carefully, watching his face, memorizing every expression. "But I'll be here for a while. A good long while." I swallowed hard, knowing the next words could change everything. "Would you... would you like to spend some time together? While I'm here?"
His eyes went wide, shining with pure joy, and for a moment I thought he might actually vibrate out of his pelt with excitement. "Really? You mean it?"
"I mean it." The promise settled in my chest, solid and unshakeable.
He whirled toward Ruby, his voice rising with hope. "Mama! Can I? Please?"
Ruby's expression softened as she looked between us, and I saw her throat work as she swallowed. When she spoke, her voice was thick with emotion. "Of course you can, sweetheart."
"Maybe..." I stood slowly, meeting Ruby's gaze, letting her see everything I felt—the longing, the hope, the fierce determination to make this work. "Maybe your mom could join us, too?"
Something flickered in her eyes—surprise, maybe, or hope. Her lips parted slightly, and I could see her pulse fluttering at the base of her throat. "We'd like that," she said quietly, her voice full of promise. "We'd like that very much."
Chapter 8
Ruby
I couldn't get over how easily Cristox fit into our lives. It was as if he'd always been there, filling a space I hadn't realized was empty. He came over every morning just after dawn, letting himself in with the spare key I'd given him. By the time I'd showered and dressed for work, he'd already fed Teddy and had him laughing at the kitchen table. He took care of our son with a natural ease that made my heart ache—helping him sound out words in his reading lessons while I worked in the bakery, the scent of fresh bread and cinnamon rolls filling the air.
We spent afternoons together, the three of us exploring the village, playing games, or just talking. He had dinner with us every night, sitting at our small table as if he belonged there. Each evening, he tucked Teddy into bed, reading him stories in that deep, rumbling voice that made my son's eyes grow heavy with contentment.
On our first day together, we'd shown Cristox around Tau Ceti, walking the dusty streets of the village. Teddy had been so proud, holding Cristox's hand and pointing out his favorite spots—the playground, the shop that sold real chocolate imported from Earth, the park where the older kids played kickball. He introduced Cristox to everyone we met as a friend of his dad's,which was technically true, though the explanation felt thin even to my ears.
I got some looks. How could I not? Cristox and Teddy looked so much alike. The same wavy dark blonde mane, the same deep-set amber eyes, the same way they tilted their heads when they were thinking. I was sure some of my neighbors had figured things out by now, putting two and two together. Thankfully, no one said anything.
Now, watching Cristox lean back in the driver's seat of our borrowed hover-truck, one hand on the wheel while the other gestured animatedly as he played "I Spy" with Teddy, something warm and dangerous unfurled in my chest. His tail swayed gently behind him in the cramped space, the tip occasionally brushing against my leg in a way that sent little sparks of awareness through me.
He was such a good dad.
The thought hit me hard, stealing my breath. He was a good dad, even if Teddy didn't know it yet. Even if I hadn't figured out how to tell him.
"I spy with my little eye," Teddy announced from the back seat, "something that is... red!"
Cristox made a show of looking around, his brow furrowing in exaggerated concentration. He'd dressed in human clothes today. Well-worn jeans that hugged his muscular thighs and a red shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders. The color brought out the golden undertones in his pelt, making his honey-brown eyes seem even warmer.
He looked good. Too good.
"Is it... the warning light on the dashboard?" Cristox guessed.
"Nope!"
"The barn we just passed?"
"Nope! It's your shirt, silly!" Teddy dissolved into giggles.
Cristox laughed, the sound rich and genuine, and glanced back at our son with such open affection that my heart squeezed. Then his gaze slid to me, catching me staring, and his smile softened into something else entirely. Something heated and intimate that made my pulse quicken.
Heat bloomed low in my belly, a traitorous warmth that spread through my limbs like lava.
His nostrils flared.
Oh no!
I knew enough about alien physiology—hell, I knew enough mixed couples on Tau Ceti—to understand what that meant. Most males could scent arousal. It was one of those things people whispered about at the market, half-scandalized, half-envious, and always satisfied.
Mortification crashed over me like a cold wave. I jerked my gaze forward, fixing my eyes on the dusty road ahead, and forced myself to think about the least sexy thing possible. Bugs. The disgusting beetle-like creatures that infested the grain silos. The way their legs crunched when you stepped on them. The smell of the pesticide we used to—
"Ruby?" Cristox's voice was low, careful, with an underlying rumble that did absolutely nothing to help my situation. "You alright?"
