Brida Pact (6 page)

The next morning came sooner than Poppy expected.

“Are you ready?” Pixie asked, cradling a to-go cup of
coffee.

“As I’ll ever be…and you’d better have gotten me a cup too. My
coffeemaker broke this morning and I haven’t had any caffeine since I finished
the first pot.” Poppy stood and cataloged what she’d scattered on the floor.
Three suitcases and one duffel bag, courtesy of Pixie.

“Did you say you’d already had a pot of coffee before you
broke it?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep so I got up at four and made a pot.
Then the coffeemaker decided to break on me like the piece of crap it was. And
don’t give me that look. I can’t take your judgment this early in the morning.”

She walked to the bathroom to get the smaller duffel she’d
filled with her toiletries. Shampoo, check. Deodorant, check. Tampons, check.
Birth control pills, check, although she wasn’t sure whether she would need
them or if she was even allowed to take them with her. She only had one week of
pills left, so surely it wouldn’t be a problem. Endless amount of hair ties,
check.

“Damn, Pops, you pretty much packed every single piece of
clothing you had. Couldn’t you at least leave some of the yoga pants?” Pixie
laughed when Poppy pretended she was going to throw the small duffel at her.
“Just kidding, jeez.” She set her cup of coffee down on the nightstand and
jumped over a bag to give Poppy a hug. “You still sure this is what you want to
do?”

“Absolutely. I think packing helped me step over the ‘I
don’t know’ feeling that may have been floating around inside my head. Pix, my
life literally fits into these bags. Everything else is disposable.” Poppy
turned around and scanned the room again. “Is that pathetic?”

“No, Poppy. It’s not pathetic. You just haven’t set down
roots yet. I would be in the same place if I hadn’t met Brian.” Pixie brushed a
kiss on Poppy’s cheek. “It’s time to go, slowpoke. We need to leave in the next
ten minutes to be there on time, and that means we can’t get you a coffee if
you don’t hurry. I’ll grab this bag and head down to the car, so don’t keep me
waiting.”

Pixie jumped as Poppy smacked her ass on the way out the
door. “Let’s hit the road then. I have a new life waiting for me.”

One cup of coffee and a drive through traffic later, Pixie
was pulling up to the Intake Center. The building appeared more militarized
than the previous day—if that was even possible.

“I can’t believe you had the balls to go in there and apply,
Poppy. Those guns are freaking me out,” Pixie said, leaning forward to stare
out the window.

“Apparently they had a bomb threat and the government
flipped out. Do you think we just leave all the luggage here and they’ll come
out to get it when I leave? I don’t want to walk through all those protesters
carrying all my stuff.”

“Yeah, let’s just head in and figure out what they want to
do.”

As the girls walked up to the doors, the protesters began to
sneak steadily closer with their signs.

“C’mon, Pops, let’s keep moving.”

“Why does that guy have an anti-gay sign? That literally
makes no sense.” Shaking her head at her sister, Poppy moved faster up the
steps, trying not to trip on the stairs and yet at the same time unable to take
her eyes off the crowd that was slowly descending on them.

“Ummmm…maybe because he is crazy. Hurry up, bish. They’re
getting closer,” Pixie murmured as she grabbed Poppy’s arm and tugged to
increase their pace. She let out a sigh of relief when the guards opened the
doors enough for them to enter before quickly slamming them shut on the
protesters.

“Whew, that was kind of scary, Poppy. I didn’t realize there
were going to be protesters.” Pixie had wide eyes by now and her hair was
beginning to frizz. They always joked the higher the stress levels, the more
frizz popped up. It was the “hairdicator” that both the girls laughed about
when they noticed one was getting poofy.

After checking in and heading up to Valerie’s office, they
were late. Valerie’s office was locked and there was no light shining
underneath the door.

“Crap, we’re about twenty minutes behind. Do you think
Valerie thought you were a no-show and went to tell Mr. Awesome you changed
your mind?” Pixie had begun to refer to Poppy’s alien with different monikers
ever since the great shoe raid of last night.

“I hope not! You already took all my good shoes, and the
only thing I have left waiting for me at home is a broken coffeepot and crappy
furniture.”

“Maybe we should look for her?”

“Maybe she’s looking for us?” both of them said at the same
time.

“Jinx! You owe me a Coke. Let’s go find your new BFF and
meet your big green guy.”

Pixie and Poppy linked arms and had just started walking
down the hall when they heard raised voices.

“I cannot believe I am doing this. Not only do these humans
risk the security of our females but apparently they cannot even find them!”
This was practically yelled by a fairly deep voice. “And did you
see
my
match? Her intake picture was not very attractive. What if I am unable to go
through with this?”

“Calm down, Wheaton. They said she might be running late
because of the crowd outside. And her liaison told me she hadn’t planned on
getting photographed yesterday so she may not be that bad in person. I am sure
everything will be fine.”

Hearing heavy steps walking across the room, both women
outside stood stock-still and kept listening.

“You are one of the senior Council members and need to be an
example for your men. There seems to be some discontent that you were one of
the first matched. If you show displeasure at your fortune, we may have a riot
on our hands. We need to show these humans how grateful we are for their
generosity. You remember our previous failures with the women we took…”

At that last tidbit of information, both Pixie and Poppy
gasped.

“There you are!” Valerie’s voice seemed to sound directly
beside Poppy’s ear, which caused both girls to jump into the air with a squeal.

“Holy shit, Valerie! Don’t sneak up on people. We were
searching for you and nobody was in your office.” Poppy was still trying to
take in what the men in the room had meant when they had said “women we took.”
That didn’t sound good.

“Are you ready to meet your future?” Valerie said with a
huge smile and hugged Poppy.

“Yes, I think so.” Poppy was still dissecting what she’d
overheard. Unattractive? What an asshole. And on the same note, thank god she’d
decided to look a bit prettier today. Her hair was down in curls, her makeup
on, and she was wearing her “nice” jeans with a pretty top. “Nice” meaning no
stains and a newer style.

“I’m Pixie, by the way.” Pixie elbowed Poppy when no
introduction came about. “My sister’s running low on coffee this morning and is
a little spacey.” She smiled over at Poppy and said, “Get it?
Spacey?
I
crack myself up.”

Valerie smiled at Pixie. Pixie always made people smile with
her stupid little jokes and the fact she really didn’t operate with a filter.
She always watched what she said if it was going to hurt somebody’s feelings
but in situations like this she pretty much said whatever popped into her head.

“Your warrior is right through here. I have his basic
profile and it says his name is Wheaton. He happens to be a senior Council
member so this means you might be able to come back once in a while on
diplomatic visits. Well, ladies, let’s go.”

“Wait!” Pixie reached for Valerie’s arm just as she went to
open the door.

Both Poppy and Valerie froze.

“We need to freshen Pops up a bit. Let me give you my
earrings and some lip gloss. From what we overheard I would say that we need to
knock his space boots off.”

“Overheard?” Valerie asked with a confused face.

“Yeah. Apparently Star Lord in there thinks Poppy isn’t up
to snuff. But a little tweaking here and she’ll be perfect.” Pixie took off her
earrings, handing them over to her sister. Digging in her bag for the makeup
case she always carried for her multiple glosses, she quickly found what she
needed. Pixie had the idea that a women should always carry an array of shades
because the right gloss could make it seem like you were wearing a full face of
makeup even when you weren’t.

Rubbing the gloss on her lips and smoothing her hair back
over her shoulders to let the borrowed earrings be seen, Poppy straightened her
top and made sure it was lying just right. Then she took a breath for courage
and nodded to Valerie to go ahead and open the door.

After knocking twice, Valerie opened the door and ushered
the women into the room. The space was set up like a standard meeting area,
with a large table placed in the center and a bank of windows on one side. Two
men were facing the window but turned and started walking toward the door as
the women entered. Both were dressed in some sort of leather outfit that
resembled something Poppy had seen on a sci-fi show. They also had similar
hair: shoulder-length, black with a slight wave. She’d originally thought
Johnny Depp was the only one who could pull off that hairstyle but apparently
aliens were the exception. Her gaze locked on the taller man on the right and
he returned her stare. His eyes were such a vivid green they seemed to glow
against the dark tan skin tone and black hair he was blessed with. Poppy
started, realizing that this was the same man she’d seen when shopping.

“Holy shit.”

Pixie immediately started giggling, which knocked Poppy out
of her little mental vacation and she realized she’d said that out loud.
Instead of being embarrassed, she giggled too. Pretty soon Valerie was also
smiling and trying to hide her laugh behind her hand while clearing her throat.
The men were confused for a couple moments but the sound of the women’s
laughter must have been contagious, because they both smiled and Mr. Green Eyes
raised an eyebrow in Poppy’s direction.

“Is ‘holy shit’ good? Or bad?” he asked as they stood in front
of the three women.

“Totally amazing in this case,” Pixie breathed out while
staring at the men. It was now Poppy’s turn to elbow Pixie.

Wheaton had to admit he was relieved when he first caught a
glimpse of the human woman, Poppy, in person. His packet contained a grainy
picture that looked as if she might have been mid-sentence when the picture was
snapped and her hair had been a jumble of what appeared to be fuzz on top of
her head. Prior to the women entering the room, Wheaton had not held back when
speaking of his concerns to Dathrow. Other than Poppy not physically matching
what he had hoped and expected, her questionnaire was also causing some
concern.

He was unsure what her college degree actually qualified her
for, but her work history did not seem to be the ideal for a Council member’s
bride. He had already decided to tread carefully when it came to how much
exposure she would have regarding his work. Her file appeared to indicate she
seemed ill-equipped to handle being matched to someone as prominent as he was.
Now that he could see her in person, he admitted there was an attraction there.
In fact she was almost completely different. Maybe she had been ill when the
original picture had been taken? He exchanged a quick glance with his friend that
conveyed his pleasure at the surprise that was his new bride.

Dathrow seemed to be staring at the woman accompanying his
bride. Wheaton could tell they were family, since they seemed to share many
physical characteristics. Both women had similar hair, although his bride did
have more curls, and the two women had similar body types and coloring. His
bride seemed to be slightly heavier in weight than the woman next to her, but
Wheaton was surprised to note that he preferred her softer shape.

“Gentlemen, this is Poppy and her sister, Pixie. Poppy was
our applicant selected for your match, Mr. Wheaton.” Valerie now turned and
handed the paperwork to his friend—who, Poppy also happened to notice, was
pretty delicious-looking as well.

Wheaton cleared his throat and stepped closer to her. He was
now close enough for her to smell his natural musk, which she had to admit
smelled delicious.

“Just Wheaton. Not Mr. Wheaton. Poppy, it is wonderful to
meet you. We have been very fortunate to have made a match so quickly and I am
very excited to show you your new home. This is my warrior brother, Dathrow,”
he said with a nod to the man standing beside him. Wheaton reached for her hand
in what Poppy assumed was supposed to be a handshake but he squeezed too hard
and almost shook her arm out of its socket.

“Yikes, Mr. Muscles, calm it down. You break it, you buy
it,” Pixie muttered.

Wheaton turned to Pixie and held out his hand to shake hers
as well and she waved, pretended to cough into her hand and mumbled something
about germs, which had him glancing at her in confusion.

Valerie and Dathrow had moved away and were now going over
paperwork while the other three stood staring at each other.

Pixie walked toward the snacks on the side of the room and
muttered, “Don’t want to be a third wheel.”

“Poppy? I had read that was a flower. Are you named after a
flower? And Pixie? Isn’t that another word for ‘fairy’ or a candy? We are still
trying to adjust to the language and our translators seem to have the most
trouble with names.” He rubbed his right earlobe, giving her a slight smile.

“My mom did like the flower, but she didn’t say I was named
after it. I believe she had a friend in college who she stole the name from.”
Poppy smiled back at him and couldn’t help but stare into his eyes. He really
did smell wonderful—almost like sunshine and leather.

“I’ve see you before…at Mega Mart,” she said in a rush,
unsure if he remembered.

Wheaton studied her for a moment and then nodded slowly. “I
remember you. You were carrying paper and getting food items.”