Love's Crash Landing

Excerpt

Gavin Howard jumped out of bed the moment he heard the sound of the crash.

He'd been sleeping soundly, exhausted after a day of planting crops in the field behind his small farmhouse, when a loud boom shook the house down to its foundation and a blinding flash of light lit up the entire room.

Jerked from a pleasant dream involving two male belly dancers and a lot of whipped cream, Gavin opened his eyes as his befuddled brain struggled to catch up. Glancing at the clock, Gavin groaned when he saw the glowing red numbers read 2:17am. Lights shone from his backyard, just visible through his bedroom bay window. The red and orange flickering moved hypnotically and beautifully. It took a long moment before he realized what he saw.

Was that--? Holy shit, my backyard is on fire!

Before he even realized he had moved, Gavin jumped out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans over his half-hard cock, not bothering to do up the buttons completely. He grabbed his shotgun and charged down the stairs like a herd of buffalo were after him.

Before he even reached the kitchen and back door that lead outside, Gavin heard his old Blue Heeler, Bo, going wild, barking like a demon-possessed hound. The dog threw itself at the screen door again and again, blocking him from getting to the backyard and only quieting his howls to whimpering and whining when he spotted his beloved owner rushing into the room.

Gavin grabbed a flashlight from below the sink, patting Bo's head as he went by.

"S'okay boy, I got it." He opened the door, then turned back to push Bo back into the house when the mutt tried to slip between his legs. "Stay, Bo. Stay!" he commanded, not wanting to put his dog in danger until the backyard was safe. He shut the door, taking a deep breath to ready himself to face whatever had disturbed his sleep so violently.

Gavin turned, prepared to face the issue at hand.

And promptly dropped the flashlight he held.

"No way..." he muttered, staring in disbelief at the scene before him. He couldn't reconcile what he saw with what his brain knew had to be possible. He looked around. Nope, no cameras or microphones anywhere to be seen. Bo still whined from inside the house. Gavin gave himself a little pinch on the leg with his one free hand and hissed at the sharp, bright pain blossoming on his leg. Well, he wasn't dreaming, which meant what he was seeing had to be real.

The scene before him seemed impossible, unbelievable.

Gavin just stood there, stunned, gun hanging from limp hands, mouth hanging open.

What the hell is going on?

No way could there be a crashed spaceship sitting in the center of his cornfield.

Pulling together his now-tattered courage, Gavin reached down to pick up the fallen flashlight, and then carefully started to approach the smoking wreckage, gun ready to shoot at the smallest sign of movement. Times like this, he was glad his military training gave him enough experience to keep himself safe as he approached a possible danger zone. His eyes were trained on the sky, for what, he didn't know--more ships maybe?

Because as much as he wanted to deny what he was seeing, there was no doubt about it; he was definitely looking at a large silver spaceship.

The ship didn't seem to be much taller than his tractor but definitely appeared wider; at least twenty feet across in an almost disk shape. The smooth sides shone silver, with an iridescent sheen that probably served as camouflage while the ship flew. He'd seen a weak rendition of just that type of thing years before while he'd been on special assignment in the Marines. Although, what he saw back then didn't even begin to compare to the stunning object before him.

The fallen ship gave off a thrumming feel, vibrating deep in his chest with a low hum, almost like when the next door neighbor played a bass guitar in his garage. Gavin could still remember those days from back when he lived on the base. He knew there was sound coming from the amplifiers, but it was too low for him to actually hear. He could feel the static energy and vibration on his skin, but no sound could be heard.

All of the sudden, Gavin realized that what he was seeing might be real. As a kid, he'd always been a comic book fan and loved the old Star Trek TV show. But never in his life could he have imagined something like this.

Hot damn! He had a real live flying saucer in his backyard.

Gavin started walking around the ship, eyes peeled for anything small and green that might pop out. All the while his mind ran over the possible scenarios of what had brought down the ship. Obviously, whatever took down a craft of this size had to have been something big and powerful. He started examining the ship closer, this time for inconsistencies in the ship's hull. About halfway around, he finally spotted something that didn't look right.

There was a good sized hole blown into the side of the ship, leaving the inner wiring exposed to the outside. The area surrounding the hole looked scorched. Someone, or something, had shot this ship down.

And whatever had might come back looking for what was left.

Damn. The last thing Gavin needed was a bunch of government officials and scientists descending on his humble little farm, destroying everything his daddy and his granddaddy had worked so hard to build up--everything Gavin now spent his life trying to keep in working condition. After his final tour of duty in Afghanistan, he'd come home to help care for his sick daddy and the slowly failing farm. After his daddy died, all the responsibility for the farm had fallen on his shoulders; a burden he had gladly accepted. It had taken Gavin years to get this place back into working order.

The blood, sweat and tears of three generations of Howard men were soaked into the soil beneath his feet, and Gavin would be damned if he'd let a bunch of big wigged crackpots come in and ruin all they had worked for.

Well shit! Gavin needed to get rid of the ship, and he needed to do it really fast. But where? And how did he turn the damn thing off so he could move the ship safely?

Gavin had just taken two steps closer to the smoking wreckage when he heard a soft sound to his right.

He froze, trying to block out the sounds of the ship breaking down in front of him, and listened hard. There! He could hear the strange sound again. Someone, or something, groaned.

Gavin looked to the left of the wreckage, near what he assumed was the front, since that was the area buried the deepest in the ground from the crash, and he saw the last thing he had been expecting.

A small body, lying still and broken, not three feet from the ship.

"Fuck!" Gavin dropped his shotgun and ran toward the still form, using the flashlight to light the way. He knelt beside the body, illuminating what he could, unsure where to touch for fear of harming the person even more. The injured being lay face-first on the ground, long, curly, white-blonde hair cascading over a slim and small body covered by what appeared to be a silver, bioluminescent suit of some kind. Man, woman, Gavin couldn't tell, but whoever the person might be, they were in dire need of help.

But what could he do? Gavin looked around again, but no one else happened to be there to tell him how to handle an injured person--or alien?--who had apparently come out of a spaceship. But he couldn't just leave the being there. As a soldier, the idea of never leaving a man behind had been drilled into him.

Gavin hesitated as he reached out to touch the person lying before him. What should he do? His mind was screaming at him not to get involved and leave this, uh, alien, he supposed, to its fate. Gavin's heart and pride, however, refused to let him walk away from someone so in need of help.

He wasn't normally the type of man to become involved; generally, Gavin kept his head down and his opinions to himself, despite his ever-present yearning for companionship. As a gay man living in a small town outside Oklahoma City, Gavin had become used to being alone and keeping to himself. The only person he actually considered a friend was a fellow ex-Marine who lived in the farmstead next door.

Dealing with injured--god, he couldn't believe he was even thinking this--spacemen was not a part of his normal everyday life.

Enough! No matter how crazy the situation seems, there is a little person here who is injured and needs your help. There's the smoking wreckage of a spaceship in your yard and this being that came out of it. Do the math! Yes, it's an alien and now it needs your help. Stop acting like a pansy and move your ass, Soldier!

Careful not to hurt the person--or well, the alien he supposed he should say--Gavin dropped his flashlight and rolled the little body over slowly, one hand bracing the neck, the other bracing its hips like he remembered from his high school first-aid class. He picked the light back up, shining it down to illuminate the alien's features, revealing possibly the most beautiful face he'd ever seen. A rush of warmth curled in his gut, and Gavin fought the urge to curse. What the hell was wrong with him? He did not just check out an injured alien! Something had to be totally wrong with this whole scenario.

Damn though, I really hope the alien is a man, because it would be weird as hell if I was attracted to a woman, alien or not. Pushing away the incongruous thoughts, Gavin again focused on the still form before him.

A slim, patrician nose offset perfectly high cheekbones and arched black brows, odd since the hair was so light. Skin the color of fresh cream looked soft as satin, along with a set of delicious, lush pink lips Gavin knew he would have dreams about. Young, very young, probably no older than twenty-five at the most; that is, if aliens counted their age the same way humans did. But damn, this alien was beautiful. Small, almost to the point of dainty, the alien couldn't have been bigger than five-six and a hundred-ten pounds soaking wet.

The alien let out a pained whimper as Gavin lifted him into his arms, and for once, he found himself glad he happened to be an oversized farm boy from Oklahoma.

Walking as quickly as he could without jostling the small alien, Gavin headed toward the house, where he could hear Bo still barking. Gavin couldn't stop himself from wincing as the alien whimpered with every jostling step Gavin took.

"Sorry, sorry," Gavin murmured, picking up the pace. "Just a bit more and I'll lay you down inside. Hold on..." He didn't know why he kept talking to the alien, since the tiny thing appeared to be unconscious, but doing so certainly made him feel better.

Bo met Gavin at the door. The dog tried to rise up and sniff the alien, but a well-placed knee made the dog back up with a huff. The dog barked, and the alien groaned. Gavin shushed both.

"Not now, Bo!" he grumbled, pushing past the old mutt, who followed behind, despite Gavin's continued demands that the dog stay downstairs. Gavin rolled his eyes, then turned his attention to the alien again as he laid the little being down on his queen-sized bed. He hadn't realized he'd taken the alien into his own room, bypassing two guest rooms, until he had placed the small creature on the faded patchwork quilt he'd slept with on his bed since he had been a boy.

He shrugged, oh well.

Then he paused, staring down at the still form. Okay, now what?

Gavin didn't know what to do. Should he undress the alien? Leave the thing alone? He could see now with better light that there appeared to be a long gash on the alien's forehead. It was still bleeding sluggishly, matting all that lovely hair and turning those long locks an obscene red color. There looked to be another gash, this one deep and seeping down the alien's left side, curving along the ribcage, soaking the silver suit.

He looked over at Bo, who sat waiting near the bedside, whining softly. "Well, any suggestions?" he asked. The dog just gave a low woof, and Gavin sighed. "Well, thanks, buddy, but that's no help at all."