Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88235 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88235 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
So that was her Valentine’s Day in a nutshell. The torn dress, the empty barstool beside her, and the two empty daiquiri glasses—soon to be three—said it all.
Why didn’t he stay? What did he see that made him just leave like that, with no explanation? Vicky wondered morosely. Yes, she was over forty—she was forty-six and a half to be exact—but she hadn’t hidden her age. And yes, she was on the curvy side, but she hadn’t hidden that either. She had marked the “more to love” box on her profile, indicating she was plus-sized.
Maybe Ted hadn’t liked the streak of pure silver that ran through her dark hair, highlighting her face. But that was in her profile picture too and Vicky refused to dye it. Likewise, she wasn’t going to get Botox or spend her meager teacher’s salary on expensive skin treatments to get rid of the faint crow’s feet around her eyes. She had earned every one of her wrinkles and she was proud of the fact that she had a lot more lines from laughing than from frowning.
Basically, she wasn’t going to pretend she was twenty because she wasn’t twenty, damn it! She had some life experience under her belt. She’d raised two daughters to be lovely human beings and she’d taught more kids than she could count at Woodrow Wilson High School to speak passable Spanish and French, as well as coaching the Drama Club.
Why didn’t anyone appreciate age and wisdom in a woman? Was the fact that she wasn’t a skinny young virgin really going to keep her single and alone for the rest of her life?
Apparently so, whispered the morose little voice in her head. If tonight is any indication. And stop trying to be brave about your age—you know you’d like to look younger. Why else did you spend so much time on your makeup tonight? And why else would you splurge on that ridiculously expensive red dress—a dress you now have no hope of returning? Because you wanted to look nice—because you were hoping to maybe get some sex for the first time in over five years.
Well, it looked like sex was definitely out. It seemed ironic to Vicky that after reading so much about today’s “hook-up culture” she couldn’t find a man to hook-up with herself. It wasn’t like she was looking for true love. She just wanted a half-way decent looking guy to touch her and treat her like she mattered—just for a little while.
Was that really so much to ask? Was it?
And that was when a man slid onto the bar stool beside her, gripped her hand and whispered, “I need your help—pretend you’re my female.”
Chapter Two
“What?” Vicky exclaimed, staring at him in surprise. He had on a dark cloak—really, who wore a cloak?—which shaded his eyes and made a mystery of his face. “Who are you?” she demanded, trying to make out his features in the shadowy confines of the dark garment.
The strange man seemed to sense her confusion.
“Forgive me—I ask for your help and do not even show you my face. Here.”
He pulled back the cloak, revealing longish dark hair that was wild around his face, chiseled features, and midnight-blue eyes which were accented by the dark blue shirt he was wearing under the cloak. Tight leather trousers, a black leather jacket, and tall black boots completed his outfit. He looked to be somewhere in his early thirties and was so tall and muscular he had to be a Kindred Warrior.
Vicky, like the rest of the world, knew all about the Kindred. The idea of the big, handsome Alien warriors coming to seek brides from Earth made her heart pound, though she had still been married to Kevin when they came and thus ineligible for their marriage draft.
And of course now she was too old for it, though she had heard rumors that the Kindred were thinking of raising the age of the draft or simply taking the age limit off altogether. Apparently some warriors were pairing up with older Earth women and without the draft as an excuse, it could be difficult to get a woman aboard the Mother Ship.
Not that this warrior with the dark hair and piercing blue eyes looked like he was here to claim her as his bride. The idea was ridiculous since she was obviously too old for him, Vicky told herself. He did look like he was in trouble, though and appeared to be asking for her help.
“Pretend you’re my female. My…what is the word you humans use?” His dark brows knitted in concentration. “My date! I need you to pretend you’re my date.”
“But…why?” Vicky asked, frowning at him.
“There are some very bad people after me.” The warrior looked anxiously at the door of the bar, as though expecting these “bad people” to barge in at any time. “Bad Varians, to be exact. I have no idea how they got through the barriers the Mother Ship has put around the Earth but somehow they did and they’re here. But they won’t be looking for a couple.”