The Visitor: Alien Hunger Special Edition (11 page)

“
Light sleeper,” he
muttered.

“
I’ll remember
that.”

She discovered as she headed for the
door that the security chain was broken, part of it dangling from
the frame and the other part still attached to the door. Braking to
a halt, she stared at it, wondering how she could possibly have
slept through Garryk breaking in! She must have really been out of
it! It unnerved her, filled her mind with all sorts of scary
possibilities. When she flicked a glance at the key rack and saw
her spare was missing, however, she relaxed fractionally, deciding
he must have helped himself to it. There was a note taped to the
door. Pulling off, she read it.

You forgot and left the
chain on. Sorry. I’ll replace it tomorrow.

Frowning, she mulled that over as she
headed out and suddenly recalled she’d been worried since he’d
climbed her balcony the night before that he might get hurt if he
tried it again. She’d told him to take the key and not climb the
balcony.

The vague sense of uneasiness that had
been churning in the back of her mind vanished with the realization
that he hadn’t simply appropriated the key.

He wasn’t like Lawrence—at all! Well,
not beyond being a man. Being bossy seemed to be a natural
side-effect of testosterone. He’d been willing to compromise after
what she’d told him about Lawrence. She doubted many men would’ve
been. They would’ve worried that it reflected badly on their
manhood to sneak around as if they were afraid of getting caught,
even for her sake.

And she knew he’d only been willing to
do it for her—not very happily—but he’d wanted to protect
her.

The thought warmed her and by the time
she arrived at the school she’d thought of something else that
pleased her. He’d come to be with her—just to be with
her.

Unless he’d been thrown out of his
apartment for some reason?

She dismissed that. He made damned
good money if the women screaming and waving bills at him were any
indication! And probably even more when he did private
parties.

That wasn’t a particularly happy
thought, and it was one she’d been struggling really hard not to
think about. How much faith could she have in a man that had that
much pussy thrown at him?

It was really flattering that he
seemed to want her, but why? Was he jaded on caviar and had decided
plain old tuna would do?

Not likely, she decided. If he was
ninety—maybe. Men that could get caviar never seemed to get tired
of it. When they became jaded, they just looked around for kinky
caviar.

She struggled with it for
a while and finally decided she needed to quit worrying about it.
It wasn’t as if figuring it out was going to make a difference.
He’d hang around as long as he wanted to and then disappear just
like he had before. She could spend all of her time waiting for the
ax to fall, or she could enjoy it while it lasted and cry later. It
was really stupid
not
to enjoy it while she could just because she knew somebody
else was going to get it later!

It was sound self-advice.
She knew it was. She was old enough to know how fleeting happiness
could be and to realize how utterly stupid it was to deprive
oneself of whatever came along just because it wouldn’t
last.
Nothing
lasted forever! And it was
still
hard!

Disappointed when he didn’t show up at
the end of the day again, she headed home, trying to convince
herself he would be there, or that he’d come by later. He wasn’t
there, but he was considerate enough to leave her a note on her
fridge. Her heart leapt when she saw it and she snatched it down to
read it.

Sorry Baby! I’ll be
working late tonight at the club.
Don’t
put the security lock
on!

She studied the note with mixed
feelings. Obviously he meant to come by when he got off, she
thought, feeling abruptly euphoric and then crashing when she
realized he was going to be working at the club—which meant waving
his dong at a bunch of screaming women! Jealousy twisted sickly in
her stomach and dismay as it occurred to her that there was bound
to be at least one and probably more than one who’d be trying to
coax him home.

She might not see him at
all!

Sighing, she studied the
note again and fought a round with the green monster. He at
least
intended
to
come see her, she reminded herself.

He probably just wanted to hedge his
bets if he didn’t get any offers at the damned club, she thought
sullenly!

Wondering what he meant about the
security lock, she glanced toward the door and then headed over to
check it out. There was a stout lock similar to the security bolts
at hotels on the door where the chain had been. She studied it for
a moment and felt a smile curl her lips as it occurred to her that
he’d decided the flimsy chain wasn’t secure enough for
protection.

If that wasn’t the sweetest, most
thoughtful thing!

She needed to stop
questioning his motives and imagining things she had no reason to
suspect him of, she realized guiltily. He was working, and it was
damned strenuous work to perform as he did, however effortless it
looked when he did it. Maybe he had taken advantage of
opportunities before and maybe he would again, but that had nothing
to do with her. It wasn’t her business—until or unless he
made
it her business.
The
present
was
what counted—not the past and not the future. And even at that, she
didn’t have any real rights beyond the right to throw him out of
her apartment. She didn’t have the right to make demands or have
expectations.

If she couldn’t get that in her head,
she was going to chase him off and make it a fact that he was in
someone else’s bed, not a figment of her imagination!

“
Shaky ground, girl! Get a
grip!” She needed to appreciate what she had and what he’d
willingly given!

She didn’t know what was wrong with
her anyway! She hadn’t acted anything like this when she’d been
dating Lawrence, hadn’t felt any of the things she’d felt since
Garryk had come into her life—as if she was on an emotional
rollercoaster, deliriously happy one moment and hideously depressed
the next. Hormones?

She frowned, thinking. She’d never
been a clock watcher. Her periods came when they came. It was bad
enough just have to deal with it. She didn’t want it to dominate
her life! She was pretty sure she was somewhere around mid-cycle,
though, so maybe that explained it?

Great! Something wonderful to look
forward to! She supposed that might end up being the true test of
just how interested in her he really was. If Garryk could stand her
in bitch mode—and do without for a solid damned week—he must
really, really like her!

It occurred to her when
she reached the kitchen that she ought to try to think of something
nice to do for him—beyond the bed. She supposed if he was like most
men that was pretty much all he needed to make him happy—a steady
supply of pussy—and peace when he got home. Of course, even that
hadn’t seemed to make Lawrence happy, but then he also hadn’t been
particularly pleased with her cooking or cleaning efforts—or
anything else—because he was determined
not
to be pleased about anything she
did.

She thought Garryk
would
appreciate a meal
he didn’t have to cook or fetch from a restaurant. There wasn’t
much point in cooking, though, when he’d already let her know he
would be really late if he came at all. He would’ve already eaten
by the time he arrived, she was sure.

Maybe she’d get the chance another
time?

Or would it set off alarm bells in his
head? Uh oh! She’s getting domestic! Danger! Danger! Run for your
life, boy!

Shaking it off, she opened the fridge.
There were two long necked beer bottles on the top shelf.
Uneasiness slithered through her. Garryk’s father had been an
alcoholic—a mean drunk by all accounts.

It was just two beers, for
crying out loud!
She
drank occasionally. Hadn’t she just lectured herself about
jumping to conclusions!

She glanced toward the trash can,
wrestling with herself. Closing the fridge, she walked to the can
and studied the assortment of wrappers and boxes. Relieved when she
didn’t find it full of beer bottles, she went back to the fridge
and studied the contents again. Finally deciding on an omelet, she
grabbed the egg carton, only to discover it was nearly
empty.

Ok, so Garryk had an omelet—or a lot
of eggs! She decided to settle for an egg sandwich.

She found a single red rose lying on
her pillow. Pleasure swelled in her chest. Rushing to it, she
grabbed it up and took a deep drag of its sweet perfume and then
picked up the note.

Sorry, baby. I ate most of
your eggs. I’ll get more. I stole this for you from your neighbor’s
garden. I can’t believe they let people keep fucking dogs around
here! The little bastard almost bit me on the ass before I could
jump back over the wall.

Chelsey clapped a hand
over her mouth and laughed until she was breathless. “Oh Garryk!
You shouldn’t have! You
really
shouldn’t!” Making a mental note to tell him he
shouldn’t have been filching the neighbor’s roses to start with,
she headed into the kitchen to find a vase for it.

Despite the note saying he expected to
work late, she tried to stay up to wait for him—and ended up
falling asleep on the couch. Garryk roused her when he came in,
working his hands beneath her. She curled her arms around his neck
when he’d lifted her.

“
What are you doing in
here?”

“
Waiting,” she murmured
sleepily.

“
Poor baby—all tuckered
out.”

She thought he was going to leave
again when he’d settled her on the mattress. Instead, he headed
into the bathroom. She dozed off to the sound of the shower and
woke again when he climbed into the bed beside her. He smelled like
her shampoo and soap. She smiled at the flowery scent and nuzzled
her face against him drowsily. Instead of starting something
interesting, he arranged her like a bed pillow, threw one arm
across her waist and a leg over hers and settled with a deep
sigh.

Mildly piqued, she waited … and waited
… and fell asleep.

She was still irritated when she woke
up—and confused. If he’d been out half the night screwing, though,
why come back to her place to crash? Why not stay with his bed
partner? Or head to his own place?

As annoyed as she was, though, she
could see his face was drawn with exhaustion and guilt smote her.
She was really going to feel like a total bitch if she found out he
was just worn out from working!

And that was the only reasonable
explanation, she realized after mulling over it a while. He had
taken a shower, but it was ridiculous to think he’d done it to hide
anything from her when all he’d had to do was not come to her place
at all.

It took all she could do to resist the
urge to smooth his unruly hair but as badly as she wanted to touch
and not just look it would be awfully inconsiderate to wake him
when she could see he was exhausted. Sighing, she got up and headed
into the bathroom. She was halfway through her damned shower before
it dawned on her that it was Saturday and she could’ve slept
late!

Dismissing her annoyance after a
moment with the reflection that there was no way she could’ve
slept, or kept her hands to herself if she’d stayed in the bed, she
left the bathroom and dressed as quietly as she could.

“
Did you set the
alarm?”

Chelsey halted abruptly on her way
out. “No. Do you need it set?”

“
What day is
it?”

Poor baby! She
did
feel like a bitch!
“Saturday.”

“
Yeah.”

Saturday was usually her day for her
chores, but Garryk slept so lightly she decided to put them off
until he left for work. Instead, after a little thought, she
decided to cook him that meal she’d considered before. She could
always say it was just returning the favor since he’d cooked for
her. Heading into the kitchen, she fixed herself a cup of instant
coffee and piece of toast, nibbling while she checked the fridge
and her cabinets to make a list. If she was going shopping for
something special to fix, she decided, she might as well take care
of the chore while she was at it and lay in a week’s
worth.

When she’d finished, she wrote Garryk
a note, in case he woke up before the alarm, and left the house to
him. It was unfortunate that she didn’t have any idea what his
favorite foods were, but he was a meat eater, a man, and a very
muscular man. He needed protein to maintain all that muscle. A
roast was out of the question—too much time to cook. He probably
ate steaks regularly since they were quick and easy to cook. She
decided on lamb chops—elegant—expensive as hell, but it wouldn’t be
too heavy for lunch. It should still satisfy his need for protein,
and they wouldn’t take long to cook.