Claimed for the Alien Bride Lottery by Margo Collins (the little red hen read aloud txt) 📗

On our third date, Mia insisted on choosing our outing. The last two days, we had participated in what Mia called “traditional date-night activities,” having gone for a meal the first time and for a group showing of an Earther vid, which Mia called a “movie.”

“This is what Earthers do for entertainment, is it not?” I asked over the com.

She laughed, leaning back in the chair in front of her mirror, but agreed. “Yes. Dinner and movie are as human as…well, I guess as much as betting on duels is a Khanavai tradition.”

“So why are you objecting to it?”

“I’m not objecting. I just think we should try something different tonight.”

I frowned. “Without a Bride Game to structure it, there is not much to do on Station 21.”

“There’s a gym, isn’t there?”

“There is a physical recreation area, yes.”

“And a garden?”

“That, as well.”

“Hm. Okay, then. Meet me outside the garden at our usual time, then. Dress casually.” As she signed off, I detected a gleam in her eye.

What does my mate have planned?

I arrived at the appointed time wearing one of my usual chavan uniforms, but without the vandenoi strap with my battle decorations.

Mia arrived before me and was waiting on one of the benches near one of the walkways leading into the garden area. Beside her sat a bag with the Station 21 gymnasium’s logo imprinted on the side. She moved it off the bench, leaving a place for me to sit next to her.

“What did you bring?” I asked.

“It’s a surprise.” She eyed me up and down. “You are a soldier, right?”

“That is the meaning of my rank of commander, yes.”

“How much time have you spent training for ground combat?”

I frowned at her. “It has been a while, but yes, I have ground combat training.”

“Well then, it’s time for more practice.” She grinned, and I realized that I had rarely seen her smile. Unzipping the bag, she pulled out two unfamiliar weapons.

“You can’t shoot projectile weapons on a space station,” I reminded her. “You could damage the hull, and any breach could cause a decompression.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a paint gun.”

“A paint gun?”

“It won’t damage anything—just make whatever it hits a little messy.”

“So the idea is to shoot one another, but with paint?”

“Yes. We’ll take turns—kind of like hide and seek, but with paint guns.”

“Hide and seek?”

“It’s a game. One of us hides, the other seeks. We track each other down and the first one to get hit loses that round.”

This was nothing like any Earther courting tradition I had ever heard of. “You want to spend our evening together playing a wargame?”

When Mia threw her head back and laughed aloud, I admired her long, slender neck, and her contagious laughter made me want to grab her and kiss her right there.

“This is one of my favorite things to do on my days off,” she said. “I go with—” Her face shut down as quickly as it had opened up when she laughed. “I do this sometimes on my days off.”

A wave of sick envy rolled through my stomach. Who else does she play these courting games with?

I almost asked, but I sensed the question was off-limits. And more than anything, I wanted to see her smile again, so I changed the subject. “How did you arrange for this?”

Her expression lightened. “Oh, you know.” She shrugged and waved a hand airily. “I got Vos to tell me who to talk to for the materials. I’ve been all over the station today planning for this. Oh. That reminds me.” She handed me a pair of goggles. “You don’t want to get this stuff in your eyes,” she warned me. “It stings.”

I slipped them on and peered out at her, certain I looked like a wide-eyed fliptiani night bird. Then I took one of the guns from her and said, “I’ll hide first. You seek.”

“Okay. I’ll close my eyes and count to a hundred. And then,” she waggled the other gun at me, “I am coming to get you.”

It was a better game than I anticipated—and she was much better at it than I expected. She found me quickly during her first round, so tiny and quick that I didn’t see her coming.

“You shot me in the back,” I objected.

My mate’s self-satisfied snicker made me grin, as well. “You really should have been watching your six,” she said.

“My what?” I twisted around to peer at my backside. “I don’t have six of anything at all back there.”

“No. ‘Watch your six’ means to watch your back. It’s like the numbers on the clock.”

Involuntarily, I glanced down at my wristcom.

“Not that. An old-fashioned Earth clock. It’s a circle and six is at the bottom…” She gave up trying to explain. “Just trust me. You need to pay more attention to what’s behind you.”

When my turn came to track her down, she surprised me again, leaping out of a stand of yontar reeds that I had automatically dismissed as too small to hide an enemy.

I clearly needed to update my thinking to include tiny humans.

Again, she waited until I was past her to leap out and shoot my back with the bright green paint.

“Watch my six?” I said sheepishly.

“Exactly.” Mia turned to head back toward the bench where we had left the gym bag, and I took a moment to admire her ass, shapely in her casual wear—a pair of formfitting pants and a t-shirt that came only to her waist.

Then I took aim and shot that shapely ass with a splatter of purple paint.

Mia squealed and jumped, spinning around and opening fire on me. “Not fair,” she yelled out, even as she covered my chest in green paint.

“Oh, I’ll show you ‘not fair’,” I growled through my laughter. I dropped my paint weapon entirely and lunged for her, picking her up and draping over my shoulder as she squealed and kicked. I took a few steps, then swung her down to place her gently on