Explored By The Mountain Man In Space Page 3

I blink, not knowing how long I’ve just been staring into literal space. Focusing, I grip the steering components and begin to drive.

  “Nick? Are you okay? You just seem to be... on another planet.” At that, she shakes her head and laughs softly. “I can’t believe I just said that. I’m such a dork.”

  Hearing her laugh and use a word like ‘dork’ to refer to herself catches me by surprise.

  “Dork? Is that right?” I ask.

  She swats at the air. “More questions? I swear that’s all I’m getting with you.”

  I push the gas, propelling us forward, knowing she’s right, but not really knowing how to start a conversation with Nova fucking Maraday.

  “Okay, how about I ask some questions myself?” Her voice seems to relax me which is strange as hell, but right now, I’ll take it. My shoulders drop as I begin to drive the rover away from the dome and the landed shuttle.

  “How far is your house from here?” she asks.

  “A little under an hour.” I look over at her and see her shivering.

  “You cold?” I ask immediately shaking my head. Stop it with the questions, Nick.

  “Actually, yeah, it’s freezing.”

  I nod and reach for the wool blanket behind our seats. I hand it to her and she spreads it out over her lap.

  “Thank you,” she says in a gentle voice I wasn’t expecting. On TV everyone in her family comes across as bossy and boisterous. “Are all the men really excited?” she asks. “Or were you all anxious for us to come?”

  “I’m not sure. I live in the mountains and have a few guys who work under me. And even then, we don’t work on the same job site. So I don’t really have anyone to talk this shit through with.”

  “Oh, it’s really different than the brides then. We spent six months in close proximity to one another. Honestly, I was sick to death of talking about this by the time we got here.”

  “Really?” I shake my head. “I’m seriously gonna stop with the questions. I’m just surprised is all, that you guys were talking about us considering you didn’t even know who we were.”

  “That’s what girls do, though, I mean, I’m the youngest of five girls, so I’m used to being around women, full throttle. So when you just told me you live alone in the woods, I let out a massive internal sigh of relief. I’m so glad to get some space from those women.”

  I look over, cocking a brow in surprise at Nova’s analysis. “Did you make any friends up there?” I ask. “On the shuttle, I mean?”

  “A few. Cassie and another woman, Aurora. I really want to know where they ended up. We were all hoping to see one another once in a while, but we didn’t get a lot of information about what our life would be like here. I mean, obviously, the goal is to sleep together and, well. You know, get pregnant.”

  I nod, looking over at Nova, seeing her cheeks redden—is she blushing over the prospect of sleeping with me?

  “Cassie, you say? My friend Dax was matched with a woman named Cassie. I mean, I suppose there could be more than one Cassie on the flight?”

  “There wasn’t. Just one Cassie.” Nova bites her lip and I can’t help but keep one eye on the road and one eye on her. I can’t seem to look away. She’s stunning, and in this rover—so otherworldly.

  Vitaie isn’t lush, at least not the part we’re going to. There’s one stretch of this land we’ve explored that has a salty beach and soft red sand, but not here. Here it’s coarse mountains and dry air and whipping winds. Everything that Nova is not.

  “Is Dax a nice man?”

  “Yeah. He’s nice. But he’s pretty nervous. The bastard was sweating bullets while we are waiting for you guys to get off the shuttle.”

  “But you? You weren’t nervous?”

  “No. But things change.” I turn my head slowly, looking at her. She gets my meaning because she pulls in her bottom lip and turns her eyes out the side window.

  The comment has created tension between us and I immediately regret it. But I can’t take it back.

  I don’t want to get close to Nova, I don’t trust her—or the things she represents. Still, it’s impossible to look at her and not feel an ache and desire.

  Five years without a woman is a helluva long time.

  “Well I’m not going to apologize again for being me,” she says. “I didn’t choose you. I chose this opportunity.”

  I snort. “Opportunity? That’s what you call signing up to move to an unknown planet and having a stranger’s baby? A planet, I might add, owned by some billionaire who’s in legal battles over being the rightful owner of Vitaie with the governments of every known country on Earth?”

  I shake my head at her opportunity.

  She has no idea what she’s gotten herself into. She can’t just leave on a first-class flight when she gets bored of this life—of not having a cook, a house-cleaner, a chauffeur. There are no social media sites where she can post about her adventure in one hundred and forty characters. No. There is nothing here.

  And the men up here know that—but the adjustment period was fucking hard on everyone.

  There is no way Nova is going to be able to hack it.

  I may be a dick, but I also wonder how the fuck this is all gonna play out. Does Markus Farrow understand that in a few days there are gonna be fifty women begging to be brought home?

  “I know what I signed up for,” she says tightly. “I wanted to come. Look, Nick, you come across as pretty mean, pretty judgmental, and yes, pretty hot. But you don’t know everything. You haven’t been on Earth in five years. Your access to current events is limited—I know because I checked. I wanted to know how much I could find out about life back home once I moved here. I thought this through. I chose this. And I don’t really appreciate you thinking I’m an idiot who doesn’t know what I’m doing.”

  She crosses her arms and huffs loudly, and I have no words for that.

  No words for her fiery outburst that I was not expecting.

  Before I can say anything, though, she keeps on trucking,

  “I don’t usually get mad like this,” she explains. “I’m pretty good at keeping everything to myself. But I’ve been waiting six months to meet you. Six months to get away from planet Earth. I wanted to come. I want this. And honestly, if you weren’t being such an asshole, I’d want you too.”

  Well, that shuts me up.

  We drive in silence until I stop the rover, finally at my place. I kill the power and turn to look at her.

  There are no more tears brimming in her eyes—right now they are aflame, fiery hot, and pissed.

  At me.

  I don’t know how to bridge the divide created the moment I laid eyes on her. But knowing if I don’t try, this night is gonna be even lonelier than the five years proceeding it.

  “Well, honey,” I try, hoping to melt her fanning flame. “We’re home.”

  5

  Walking up to Nick’s house is a shock to my system.

  Now look, you might be thinking: Oh really? A cabin in the woods is the thing that has you surprised?

  I know. I’ve just landed on Vitaie after being on the spaceship for six months, not to mention I just met my husband who seems to think I’m a walking, talking, idiot.

  But somehow those things don’t seem the most outrageous.

  My new home is pretty much a creepy cabin in the woods.

  This is the part that I’m having a hard time understanding.

  Marcus Farrow touted this “opportunity” as some intergalactic, cutting edge, adventure.

  But right now I’m finding myself in a mountain, literally, in the heart of a mountain with towering cedar trees all around me. Sure, the colors aren’t the same as back home—the cedar boughs are a light blue, almost turquoise. Nick tells me the chlorophyll on Vitaie is blue instead of green.

  So, yes, that stuff is different, and so is the ground, as I walk to Nick’s “house”, I step over rocky terrain that isn’t gray and brown—it’s aquamarine. Nick explains it’s ground turquoise dust
. It’s beautiful; it looks like a watercolor painting. The sky is gorgeous too, so black yet so very bright.

  So, yes, all that is remarkable.

  But what’s really remarkable is how ridiculous Nick’s place is.

  I’ve seen movies like Passengers and The Martian. Everything seemed technologically advanced—ahem, cutting-freaking-edge. Jetpacks and satellites and control centers.

  Not this.

  Even Nick’s rover is basically an enclosed 4×4 Jeep. And this house in the mountain—it’s a freaking log cabin. I feel like I’m literally a mail-order bride coming out West. Time to put on my apron and start plowing the fields.

  Maybe I’ve just got it all wrong.

  “Is this the garage?” I ask, hopeful.

  Nick just shakes his head, leading the way.

  This is no Jetson’s episode from when I was a kid. This is straight up, hillbilly cabin in the woods, with a bearded mountain man in a flannel shirt as my husband. I am so out of my element.

  “You said you wanted an opportunity, right?” Nick asks grinning at me as if he just loves seeing me like this.

  Thank God I didn’t pack any high heels. At least I dressed appropriately.

  “Home sweet home, wifey.” Nick raises his brow, those steel blue eyes that are seriously sexy as fuck, and he pushes open the door. He doesn’t even use a key. Which makes sense, considering there isn’t even a doorknob. He just kicks aside a few logs that held the door in place and enters.

  “No lock? Couldn’t wild animals could get in?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” he says looking at me like an idiot. “That’s why I put the wood in front of the door.” He motions for me to follow him inside, and I do, but my steps are tentative. I have no idea what I am about to find inside.

  “Well,” he says, using a flashlight to guide him as he walks toward a light on the center of a table, turns it on. “This is it, this is our place.”

  A warm glow fills the room, shining a light on how awkward this situation is.

  I wanted an adventure. And this is that.

  “You ready to run away already?” he asks. “Because in the rover, you seemed pretty dead set that this is what you wanted.” Nick looks down the floor, not meeting my eyes, and I’m not sure what has suddenly changed.

  “I’m not running anywhere,” I say, shaking my head. “But this is a lot to take in.”

  The cabin has a minimalistic futon, a makeshift kitchen that consists of a hotplate and 5-gallon container of water on a metal counter. Industrial and bare bones. A curtain has been hung to divide the room into two spaces, and through an opening, I notice a bed. Well, not a bed, really, it’s a pallet on the floor.

  I inhale deeply as I look around my husband’s cabin. My nostrils are met with the down-to-earth smell of a real man. Sweat and hard work and true grit. Nick may be a stone-cold ass, but he’s also carved himself a place to live in a galaxy far, far, away… and regardless of how primitive this “house” is … he made it with his bare hands.

  And that is hot as hell.

  Beverly Hills is really fucking far away. I don’t want to be some prima donna, but the truth is, growing up I had a nanny. I have traveled the world and stayed in five-star hotels on every continent.

  I’ve never been camping even once in my life. Not even glamping. The most “rustic‘’ I’ve ever gotten was when my family went on vacation to Thailand and the AC went out in our beach house.

  I’d be lying to myself if I said this wasn’t a lot to take in.

  More than a lot. I wasn’t prepared for this level of isolation.

  I start crying, full-on tears down my face, hiccuping sobs, covering my eyes, crying.

  I drop my backpack to the floor, my shoulders shaking. What am I doing here? Nick is right: this is a culture shock that I’m having a hard time processing.

  “Fuck. Shit. I knew this was fucked up. I knew Farrow had no idea what he was doing sending you girls here.”

  Nick paces the small cabin... I mean it’s not even a cabin, this is a shed. I am in a shed in outer space with a stranger who hates me.

  And I thought my situation back on Earth was awful.

  It makes me cry even harder. Remembering the fights with my parents; my sisters screaming at me. Everyone telling me I was a sellout and couldn’t leave. Them telling me I needed to stay and fight to get them out of jail. Off house arrest. Telling me it was my duty as the only free person in my family.

  But knowing I had to go.

  But now? Now it feels like I know nothing.

  “You were right,” I sob, wondering why I had to be so stubborn. Maybe having a husband isn’t the only thing in life that matters. Maybe I could’ve stayed on Earth and changed my name and dyed my hair black and spoken with an Australian accent and started wearing clothes from Target and appeared like a totally different person. No one would recognize me.

  Instead, I came to outer space to get away.

  Because deep down I didn’t want to change all those things about me. I want to be Nova; be accepted for who I am. I had the naive idea that maybe Farrow’s freaking algorithm could give me a man who would see past my family name and see me as I am.

  A woman in my own right.

  “And what exactly was I right about?” Nick asks, stepping toward me.

  I drop my hands, blinking the tears away. “You were right about everything. About me not being cut out for this. About me being a fucking idiot.”

  “Hey, Nova, you don’t need to cry,” he says, resting a hand on my shoulder. When he touches me, a pinprick of hope wells up inside me. When he touches me I remember I am not alone. He is here.

  Maybe he can be more than an asshole. I’m not asking for a Prince Charming—a man to sweep me off my feet. I just want a man who will stay by my side.

  I want it so badly. More than anything.

  Nick tries to wipe the type tears away but they just keep falling. It’s like six months of pent up fear has suddenly come out all at once. The walls I could never have let down in the space shuttle, with all those women watching me, crumble now that I am away from them, now that I have no one I am trying to be anything for. I don’t need to be brave or aloof around Nick. He already hates me, I’ve already lost what I came here to find.

  Love.

  On the shuttle, I never thought that I might be terrified. But now, I’m in the comfort of my own home.

  I shake my head, a sharp laugh rising up in me.

  This is my home.

  “Hey, I’m usually right about everything,” Nick says, smirking, but his eyes are bright. “That’s something you’re gonna need to get used to.”

  Nick is attempting humor.

  An incredulous burst escapes my mouth. I try to pull back but it’s too late. Nick heard it.

  “Right about everything?” I say softly, an onslaught of tears ready to fall. “That makes me think you don’t have much confidence in this marriage.”

  “Shhh,” he tells me. He’s close now, and he sets his hands on both of my shoulders, looking at me square on. Forcing me to meet his gaze.

  “Did you ever read about those marriages in the Wild West, where women were shipped out to men?”

  I swallow, having read plenty of books published about mail order brides before I came here, they were the closest thing I could find to someone who’d been through what I was about to embark on.

  “Yeah, I’m kind of a history buff.”

  Nick frowns, as if not believing.

  “What? I am. The History Channel is my jam,” I say, suddenly smiling. How am I smiling? “Was my jam,” I amend. I look up at Nick, trying to understand how this complete jerk who has managed to say everything wrong, still manages to make me smile at the least opportune moment of my life.

  That has to count for something.

  “I was not expecting that,” Nick says slowly.

  “Well, everyone thinks my life is an open book, but it’s not. My family’s life—is an open book, but I’m not my famil
y. I came here to start a family of my own.”

  “I’m beginning to see that, Nova.” Nick swallows, and under his beard I see his Adam’s apple move. He is all man, all rough edges and gritty lines, and I want to soften them; want to smooth out the corners.

  I came to Vitaie to be Nick’s wife and give him a child. To make a family.

  I want it so bad my heart aches. I want to run my hands through his hair. I want him to pull me close and wipe my tears away and make me feel better, not feel lost and alone, not like I’m free falling into a different orbit than I’m used to.

  I want him to kiss me. Really kiss me. I want him to squeeze my body and remind me that I am here. That this is real. This is my life.

  And the way he is looking at me, I think he wants it too.

  “Nick,” I start, not really understanding how I’m supposed to ask the man who is my husband to take me to bed... But I want to ask him. I want to fall into something new, something new and good.

  He doesn’t let me doesn't let me finish my sentence. Because before I can say another word his mouth is on mine. And it’s warm, his lips full and hungry.

  I want to tell him that coming to this planet isn’t the only thing I’ve never done before. I’ve never had a man take me to bed. Make me his lover.

  I’ve never opened my body and offered it freely.

  I want to now. I want to because it’s the only thing I can imagine doing that would make this feel real.

  “I’m your wife, right?” I ask.

  He growls a yes in my ear, kissing my earlobes, my neck, his hand on my breast. Like once he tasted my lips, he needed more.

  I want to give it to him. I can push aside the way he acted when we met because maybe this tough man needs to be sweetened up before he can play nice.

  I want to be the one to cover him in sugar and lick him like a lollipop.

  “Take me to bed,” I tell him. “Please.” Nick pulls me closer to him, his arms around my waist and he draws me to his body.

  I feel his hard cock in my belly, and the deepest part of me awakens.

  Nick kisses me again, our mouths opening, his tongue finding mine and twirling against it, needy, wanting.