Chapter 6

THE TWIN SUNS BLAZED overhead, the temperature soaring to near triple digits, but tall trees shaded the new city park, making the heat for those celebrating more tolerable.

As she and Tarus strolled along the meandering paths, Amy breathed in the scent of exotic flowers, at least a dozen different varieties in vivid pinks, purples, oranges, and greens. The latter in the petals, not the stems, which all seemed to be a dark midnight blue. Towering above them, the canopy of the trees glowed in bioluminescent colors, casting a magical glow over the park. And the sound of children's laughter was everywhere.

"That is something I haven't heard since I was a child myself," Tarus commented as two giggling girls, around seven, ran past them.

"It must have been a terrible time for your people."

"I was too young to remember when the rain of fire devastated our people and our planet, but I've heard the stories. Despair cast a heavy shadow over Primaria, leading to significant and lasting changes in our society." He glanced down at her. "Almost as significant as finding human females on our hunting planet, now Terra Nova, of course. But this discovery, which was truly a gift from the Maker, changed us for the better. We have hope because of your kind, and we are most grateful. "

"As are we," she replied. "My people and my planet have been in a downward spiral for decades. Once we passed the point of no return, we had to put our faith in our exploration teams. None were having success finding a new home until the Odyssey arrived here. From the stories I've heard, it was a rocky beginning, but without Primaria helping us build this new world, we'd be nowhere close to saving any of our people."

"It was a give-and-take that saved both of us," he replied carefully.

"Agreed," she whispered, although for the human women who made first contact, it was much more give than take.

She couldn't imagine the fear the first eight taken captive had endured. One had become the prima of Primaria. Another the fated mate of a general. And still another, the captain of the Odyssey, which had been captured, became the mate of the Primarian fleet's admiral, and, subsequently an ambassador for interplanetary relations and was extremely influential.

Amy, a waitress turned receptionist, felt as trivial as a gnat by comparison. Without Eva, Lana, Maggie, and a host of others' sacrifices, their determination, and forging the way to a treaty between the two worlds, she would still be on Earth, watching helplessly as it crumbled around her. Instead, she was standing on stable ground, in their rapidly growing new home, on the arm of a warrior, enjoying a pleasant day.

"Our conversation turned too serious. This is a celebration," Tarus stated, squeezing the hand that rested in the crook of his arm.

"Yes. We should change to a happier topic."

"Such as... "

"Food!" she suggested. "Beck was by the clinic earlier this week and said they received four cases of brats on the last supply ship from home. It has been years since I've had one. I only hope I can snag one before they run out."

"I shall snag one for you if you tell me what it is."

"It's actually a bratwurst, which is German, I think. Most of us call it a brat for short. Basically, its ground meat, either cow or pig, sometimes a mix of both, stuffed in a skin-like casing to hold its cylindrical shape. It's spicy, often greasy, and unbelievably fattening, but grilled with peppers and onions, and in a doughy bun with mustard, it's delicious."

She glanced up to see his sensual lips twisted in distaste. "Ground-up cow or pig stuffed in a skin and grilled?" he repeated, incredulous and clearly disgusted.

Amy giggled at his expression. "It does sound rather unappetizing. Be happy I didn't describe how they make hot dogs."

"Why do I suddenly crave a salad?" he drawled, making her laugh outright, but, from the look on his face, he was only half kidding.

Tarus was the perfect gentleman. His hand rested on her back to guide her through the throngs of residents but didn't linger unnecessarily. He listened attentively and smiled or laughed appropriately at her attempts at jokes—some funny and some not so much. After they made their way through the line at the overflowing tables of picnic-style food—burgers, hot dogs, the aforementioned brats of which they got the last two, fried chicken, macaroni salad, and fresh fruit grown in the fields and groves outside of New Hope—he insisted on carrying her plate to the tables set up in the freshly mown grass .

Rather than being green, the lawn was a lovely light purple, closely resembling the lavender shade of Tarus' irises. She wondered how long, if ever, it would take for her to get used to eyes and grass of such a startling shade.

They ate more than they should have, the old-fashioned funnel cakes putting her over the top. Then he took her hand in his and led her to the folding chairs set up for the concert scheduled to start soon. As they waited, sitting side by side, his thigh pressed to hers with their hands clasped and fingers intertwined, his touch sent shivery tingles through her body.

Within minutes, Beck Kincaid, their new mayor, as of the first of the following month when his term began, walked onto the stage. He thanked those who designed and constructed the park, and the landscaping committee who had selected and planted all the different varieties of flowers, some grown from seeds they'd transported from home. He then unveiled the sign for the New Hope City Park and read the dedication aloud in his deep, resonant voice.

"This park is a place of beauty, fellowship, and joy, made possible by the brave, hardworking, dedicated colonists who carved a home out of a dense, alien world light years from their own. We thank them and shall remember their sacrifice as long as the laughter, music, and nature endure for all to enjoy."

The applause was deafening and continued until the band, the same one from the Watering Hole, began playing. The music was a mix of upbeat classics that seemed to pulse through her veins, and slow standards, which put her in a mellower mood.

Gradually, couples moved to a wide paved area in front of the bandstand, which they put to use as a dance floor. Amy balked when Tarus grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.

"I can't dance," she exclaimed, resisting for all the good it did. "I swear, I not only have two left feet, but, when dancing is called for, they spin upside down and turn backward."

"That's quite a visual," he said with a laugh. "But anyone who can feel the beat of the music can dance. Trust me to lead you."

She did, so how could she say no? Besides, being held in his arms, their bodies brushing against one another as they moved, held a vast appeal.

Tarus surprised her by being graceful for such a big man. And because he knew what he was doing, she didn't look like a fool. They twirled and swayed together under the stars, their movements fluid and intoxicating.

After dark, when the fireworks lit up the alien sky, they stretched out on their backs in the grass to watch. He slid his arm under her and pulled her in to his side, his shoulder acting as her pillow. Lying close to him, Amy felt a current of excitement arc between them that wasn't because of the pyrotechnic show.

As they walked to the residence hall at the end of the night, the alien moons—all three of them—lit the way. Before climbing the stairs, their first date officially at an end, Tarus stopped her to face him. His eyes in soft glow of the entryway light appeared midnight blue, like the stems and leaves of the park flowers, but burned with desire as he leaned down to kiss her. Amy's heart raced as their lips met, a wave of passion crashing over her. The kiss sparked more electricity sizzling back and forth between them, his lips on hers making it burn hotter and brighter than the mere brush of fingers ever could.

In that moment, she knew he was the one. The chemistry between them was undeniable, and she couldn't wait to see where this newfound connection would take them. When they broke apart, both slightly winded, hand in hand, he escorted her up the stairs and to her third (or was it fourth) floor apartment door.

He didn't push for more, although he could have, and she wouldn't have denied him. Rather, with another gentle but searing kiss, he murmured good night and waited until she let herself inside.

Amy was grateful for this unexpected twist of fate. There was only one problem. How did she break it to Remus that she was falling in love with his brother?