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Chapter Four
Stars already winkedin the sky when Grace stepped out of her car at the observatory.
The area around the University was vibrant and bustling, full of affordable counter service cafés and brightly-colored pizza joints, booksellers that bought and sold used textbooks, and more than a dozen other small businesses that catered to half-broke college students.
When she’d started at Saddlethorne, she’d been living in a little apartment on the edge of Bridgeton and commuted each day, reminding herself the forty-minute drive in rush hour traffic was better than the life she’d left behind. The property market in Cambric Creek was fierce and bidding wars over houses were commonplace, the asking prices for said houses well above market value to start with. Purchasing a house in town was a pipe dream, but once the spring semester ended and students began to clear out of their rented homes to leave for the summer, she’d scanned the local real estate listings hourly. When the little yellow house with the gingerbread trim on Persimmon Street became available, Grace wasted no time. She didn’t mind the proximity to the university, appreciated the slightly less expensive dining options that existed on this side of town, and the drive from her house to the observatory that night took only a few minutes.
There was only one other vehicle in the parking lot when she stepped from her small car, peering around the dark space. It wasn't altogether uncommon — the observatory was one of the busiest places in town on nights of celestial importance, each month during the full moon, and whenever there was a particularly interesting star or asteroid to be spotted — but on a night like this, a weeknight with no significance on the calendar coupled with the uncomfortably humid weather, she supposed she shouldn't have been surprised.What's wrong with you? You're supposed to pick public, well-lit up places for dates like this. It's like you went out of your way to pick the darkest abandoned lot in town!
"H-hello?" She called out weakly, taking a few steps from her car. The gravel crunching under her feet was the only sound. Raising her eyes to the street light above, she gasped at the sight of darting shapes streaking in and out of the beam of white light, swooping and falling.Get a fucking grip, pull yourself together!They were little brown bats, the same type that she watched from the deck off her kitchen on summer evenings, nothing to be alarmed over.This is why people make bad decisions in horror movies. You get jumpy over every little thing. Then some little bats are innocently just flying around and you're too busy focusing on them to notice you're about to be stuffed in a fucking trunk.
Merrick chose that moment to melt from the darkness at the side of the building just at the edge of her peripheral vision, and she shrieked in surprise. As she spun to face him, her legs became trapped in the unyielding prison of her skirt, her movement faster than the material could keep up with. Grace stumbled, throwing her arms out to steady herself, and it was a full moment before the dress slackened, swinging freely once more. Her fists clenched, as she remembered Caleia's aggravating flurry of text messages that evening.
Be sure not to wear one of your Little House on the Prairie dresses.
That's the opposite of sexy.
And cute underwear!
Youdoown cute underwear, right?
The problem with that advice was that shelikedher boho country dresses, and had never been one for dressing particularly sexy. The revealing outfit Caleia had advised was still hanging on the back of her bedroom door, and she knew the dryad would likely not approve of the long maxi dress she'd worn instead, tiered in lace and dotted with delph-blue flowers, but Grace didn’t quite care. The dress was spaghetti-strapped, with a deep-v neckline that hugged her breasts, revealing juuuust enough. Shehadworn cute underwear, the cutest she had, and she was fully prepared for it to make an appearance. If Brogan got hot in the middle of the day seeing her in one of the floral print dresses, Grace rationalized, she decided that was good enough for her date as well. And besides — the shy mothman had already seen what was under her dress.
The shadow he cut across the paved end of the parking lot was huge and menacing. His large wings rose and rustled, antennae atop his head resembling demon horns on his shadow twin. A familiar nervous chirp and click dispelled her momentary panic as she slumped in relief, realizing it was him, noting that he was just as long and leanly-muscled and attractive as he'd been the previous night, as he stood before her small table at the farm.
"Sorry," he called out, wings rustling again. "I-I didn't mean to startle you." He towered over her, and even though his height gave the impression of lankiness, Grace noticed for the first time how broad his shoulders actually were, the width of his back, tapering to an impossibly slender waist. He seemed sleeker that evening, his velvet skin possessing an almost satin shine beneath the overhead light and his fluffy mantle even more voluminous than the night prior. She was struck by the curiously adorable image of him primping in preparation for this date, and gripped the skirt of her dress to restrain herself from reaching out to stroke his arm.I wonder if he brushes himself.
"You-you look beautiful.” Her cheeks warmed again at his slightly awe-struck words, as if she were some great beauty, and not the reckless human he’d watched masturbating, acting as if she were in heat. His antennae twitched wildly as his arm extended slowly. She wasn't sure if she'd ever met someone so earnestly sweet and anxious, returning his tremulous smile with a brighter one of her own, before she realized he held something.
“These are for you."
The small hand-tie of flowers would have been called a tussie mussie in another age, but they were thoroughly unexpected that evening. Something swooped low in her belly as her fingers brushed his, her nose catching the sweet, heady floral fragrance of the small bouquet. Lily of the Valley. It was late in the season for the pungent, diminutive blossoms, and she had no doubt the bouquet had been procured at the little shop in town, owned by three identical beetle-like sisters, each with gleaming black hair and iridescent green carapaces. The shop was well-known for being able to procure blooms long out of season, and for its array of exotically cultivated plants.
"I hope you're not allergic. They smelled so nice, I couldn't resist."
She had never had a very good ear for languages. It was a relief that most species spoke the common, even if each had their own language and dialects. She was able to read a bit of Orcish and a smidgen of troll, but the second someone actually started speaking, it was as if something in her brain turned off. Her ears were not able to process the sounds quickly enough to turn them into something recognizable for her brain to interpret, and so she would be left smiling dumbly in the face of the speaker, silently hoping they spoke the common as well.
The language of flowers was different. Much like the common tongue, language of flowers was understood across species. She always knew what sort of arrangement to send in sympathy or in celebration, had silently analyzed wedding flowers for years, making predictions about the happy couple purely based on the flowers they had chosen to celebrate their nuptials. The weight of those showy, overly-perfumed lilies — devoid of love or commitment — were still heavy in her hands, years later. By contrast, Grace didn't need to consult one of her books to know that Lily of the Valley was a symbol of purity and youth across half a dozen different cultures and species, but that wasn't all.A return to happiness. She swallowed heavily, lifting the small bouquet to her nose and inhaling, nearly rocking off her feet.A renewal of love.She didn't especially believe in fate, nor in love at first sight, and she certainly wasn't looking for love, hoping it would have the good sense to keep its eyes averted if it passed her, but the notion of this tall, velvet-skinned stranger bringing abouta return to happinesswas a bit too on the nose for her liking.
Still, they were lovely, and it was a distressingly sweet gesture.
"I love them,” she grinned up honestly, slipping her arm through his, the cord-like steel strength beneath her palm kicking up her heartbeat a few notches once more. His mantle puffed up, his antennae standing straight up on end, possibly the most endearing thing she’d ever seen. It was as if he weretryingto wear down her resolve, to fall for his adorableness, she thought as he held the door open, ushering her into the observatory's main chamber.Down girl. You're not looking for a relationship, remember?Grace squared her shoulders, not loosening her grip on his arm. She wasn’t looking for loveorheartbreak, and their tentative relationship had already been defined by the two nights she’d spent framed in the light of her window.You’re not looking for a relationship . . . but that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.
The circular interior of the observatory was dimly lit and cold, despite the heat outside. The second level was ringed in a wrought iron railing, the only modern thing about the space being the high tech telescope in the center. The other car in the parking lot belonged to an older reptilian couple, both turning to glance over their shoulders with identical sour looks when the inner door was pulled open. The couple had been meticulously recording the positions of stars in a notebook since she and Merrick had entered the space, giving no sign that they were planning on relinquishing their control on the telescope anytime soon, glaring every time their conversation rose above a whisper.
Grace sucked in a lungful of the cool air as they made another circuit around the interior, patiently waiting for their turn. Goosebumps rose on her upper arms as she stepped around a cluster of unused stanchions for the fourth time, and a shiver moved up her back, her nipples tightening ever-so-slightly beneath the thin material of her dress. It was the temperature of the room, she reminded herself again; a reminder she’d issued all four times they’d circled the space. It was absolutely without a doubt the drastic temperature difference in the room, as it had been the second and third times they’d made this short pilgrimage. It clearly hadnothingto do with the press of his long-fingered hand at the small of her back, gently guiding her around the obstacle, even if she felt the heat of his touch like a brand through her dress, searing her skin.
He's probably not even aware he's touching you. He's just trying to keep you moving, because it will be embarrassing if you stumble, and you've nearly knocked yourself out in his presence once already.The thought tasted like a lie, she was forced to admit. The unwavering strength of his arm, the gentle pressure of his hand at her back . . . He was tall and reedy and looked as if a stiff breeze might blow him over, but he wasstrong, as strong as her ex had been, she was certain, and he was leading her in an unspoken dance, securely enough that her toes needn’t even touch the ground.
"So, do you work at the school?"
"I do. Just a few blocks away, actually.” His deep voice was nearly a purr at her ear, a vibration she was able to feel down the side of her neck as he tipped his head to prevent her from needing to raise her voice. “The University is hosting my fellowship, and I'm doing some work with their agricultural study students in return. It's a very nice school, I’ve been in corporate labs that don’t hold a candle. The research lab in the science facility is shockingly well-equipped for a school this size."
"Everything in Cambric Creek is shockingly well-equipped," she laughed in agreement, and realizing belatedly how that might be interpreted. She had no doubt that her Orcish and naga neighbors were indeedwell-equipped, to say nothing about her Minotaurean coworker.Probably even the satyr across the street, she thought, ears burning. Grace considered the proximity of the University to her own house, realizing he had probably been coming home from work when he'd made the detour into her yard. "There’s no shortage of funding around here, that’s for sure. The community has deep pockets and they're not afraid to spend from them.”
“I can tell. The neighborhoods are nothing like what I’m used to. The first apartment I looked at was on a street of these huge Victorians, and the house next door was a mansion!”
“Oldetowne,” she nodded, flashing him a brilliant smile to encourage the conversation. He was more confident in the dark, his long fingered hand finding her with ease — her shoulder, her elbow, resting lightly at the small of her back. The weight of his red eyes never left her as she spoke, and the attention combined with his soft touch was making a giddy bubble of excitement swell in her chest. “Is that where you live?! Oh, no wait . . . you said you’re over in the developments, right? By the woods?”
