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He winced as high-pitched squeals jarred through his ear defenders. He turned and glared behind him, to see the group of sparkly hen aliens following them.
“You called that group of aliens a hen party?” he said to Sloane. “I don’t know what that is.”
“It’s an Earth thing, although it looks like it’s crossed into other cultures. Just before someone gets married, they have a big party with their friends. It’s a kind of celebration, or commiseration, depending on how you look at it, to mark your last night of freedom. I didn’t realize other aliens held hen parties. It looks like they’re having lots of fun.”
“It’s not my kind of fun.”
Her gaze ran over him. “Yes, I can see that. They’re not doing any harm, though.”
“They’re noisy. Is this what happens on hen parties? You have to make lots of noise?”
“Usually. Although I imagine the alcohol has loosened them all up.”
Dallin hurried away with Sloane, but a piercing whistle made him grimace.
“Hey, hot stuff. My girl here is looking for a fun ride, and you look like you can handle her. She likes big, brawny, and mysterious.”
He glanced back to see the group of aliens waving at him and grinning.
“Ignore them,” Sloane muttered. “They’re just drunk and enjoying themselves.”
Dallin continued along the corridor, but stopped as a hand settled on his bicep and squeezed. The group of hen aliens had caught up with him.
One of them was pushed to the front. She blushed and laughed. “Sorry about my friends, but you are gorgeous.”
“Do a striptease for us,” one of them said. “It’s Melandra’s hen party. We want her to have so much fun she cancels the wedding and comes back to the single life.”
“He looks all moody and mysterious with those dark glasses on,” another sparkly hen alien said. “Take them off, hot stuff. I always think Apexian eyes are sexy.” She reached for the glasses, but before her hand got close enough to remove them, Sloane stood in front of him.
“Hands off my guy. He’s taken.” She jammed her hands on her hips.
“He doesn’t look taken to me. Besides, there’s plenty of him to go around. Don’t be greedy. Share.”
Sloane stepped into the woman’s space. “He is mine. Make a move on him, and you’ll regret it.”
Dallin repressed a smile as Sloane protected him from the squeaky aliens who stank of flowery perfume and wine.
Sloane stepped back and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Let’s get out of here, sugar.”
The hen party cat-called them until they were around the corner and out of sight. It was only then that Sloane released her hold on Dallin, and he immediately missed her touch.
She glanced at him, an amused look in her eyes. “Those females would have eaten you for breakfast. You didn’t even try to protect yourself when they started grabbing at you.”
“I didn’t need to. You were doing a great job of being my bodyguard.” He grinned at her, an unexpected flood of affection hitting his heart.
“Oh, so you think it’s funny other women want you?” She shoved him, and not gently. “They’re more your type? You’re such a jerk.”
“And you’re adorable when you’re being possessive.”
Sloane scowled at him. “I don’t know why I bother with you. I’ve never met such a complicated alien. The next time those drunk hens come for you, I’m letting them pinch, grab, and squeeze whatever they like.”
The brief flash of joy Dallin felt vanished. Sloane was right. She shouldn’t bother with him. “Let’s head to the bars.”
They spent the next two hours searching several locations and found no signs of the Siblet poison.
“We should go to the bakery next,” Sloane said. “And you must be hungry, too. We can get something to eat while we check out that area.”
He nodded and followed her, staying close, more than happy to have an excuse to be near her. They should have split up by now, but he was reluctant to leave her side.
