Water trickles as Oliver lifts the oars of the rowboat up in the air, and I soak up the warmth of the sun on my face as I tilt my head back and say, “It’s wonderful to be outside enjoying the day. I need to do this more often.”

“You probably do. How many hours a week do you work?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never counted because I think there is a direct correlation between how much I work and how much money I make.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a life.” I lower my head to look at him as he says, “I mean I’m sure you love your job, but it’s important to have time to play too.”

“I know, and I do. I spend at least one night a week with my girlfriends, Cassie and Hannah.” I reach in the water, and it’s cool on my fingers when I splash it at Oliver. “And now I have you to play with.”

Oliver stops rowing and leans forward. “That you do. Come here.” I lean forward and he meets me with a kiss. Our mouths fit in a way that’s rare as we nip at each other’s lips, and my insides heat up in response. When we break apart Oliver says, “I’m hungry.”

“Okay. Then let’s go back to land and have our picnic.”

Oliver lets out a low noise. “Food isn’t what I’m hungry for.”

“Oh.” I drop my gaze, but he lifts my chin with his finger so I look into his eyes.

“I can’t wait to do more than kiss—” He scans my body with his gaze, “—you on the mouth.”

I roll my eyes as my face heats up, and he chuckles. I slap at his arm. “You’re terrible.”

“You’re too easy. I couldn’t resist.”

“Well I’m hungry for lunch,” I say. “Can we go back?”

“Of course.” Oliver rows us back to the dock where we rented the boat, and after we retrieve our bag he grabs my hand and leads me down the walkway. “I’ve been thinking about what I’d like to do for a job if you decide to marry me.”

“What’s that?”

“I have the exclusive rights to my energy powder, and I want to create a dietary supplement. What do you think?”

“Based on the energy I have today, I think it’s a fantastic idea.” I frown as I recall the seeds on my windowsill. “How long will it take before you have your plants ready? And are the few you have enough for manufacturing large quantities?”

“Great questions. The plants grow quickly, but you’re right in thinking I need a whole lot of them to produce mass amounts. But—” We’ve reached the grass, and he stops walking. “I could start off with a limited supply and a big price tag.”

I recall the athletes I read about complaining about the price, but I also know exclusivity is enticing to a certain market. “I suppose it depends on how big the price tag is. You’ve already generated buzz with the Olympic teams.” I point to a tree that shades a nice section of the lawn. “Let’s eat over there.”

Oliver moves toward the spot. “I’ll also need to find a way to protect my plants, because if someone gets access to them, there’d be nothing to stop them from starting their own energy powder business.”

“While you can definitely start off with plants in the kitchen and breakfast area, you’re going to need land that can be protected.”

“Right.” He sets our bag down with a thud. “Say an old farmhouse in the country?”

I smile. “Yeah. That would work.”

The blanket snaps as he shakes it out and spreads it on the ground. “I’ll also need a wife, and maybe some kids, to help out with the work. Don’t you think?”

“Hmmm.” I sit and begin to pull our lunch out of the bag. “I might be able to help you with that.”

“Are you applying for the job?”

“I do make a mean glass of lemonade,” I say as I hand him his sandwich.

“You’re hired.” As he unwraps his lunch he says, “Seriously though, the fact we’re a ninety-eight percent match means we should probably start talking about marriage.”

“What?” I ask over a mouthful of my turkey wrap. “How do you know that?”

He frowns. “The dating agency puts that in the report of possible mates.”

“I heard we used to get that information, but your government thought we were being too choosy and changed it so that we have no idea.”

“Maybe you were, but Eroscians want to get to earth so badly they don’t care much about the percentages, so it doesn’t matter much if they tell us.”

“Ninety eight percent, huh?” I notice mustard on Oliver’s chin and reach over to swipe it off with my thumb. “Those are pretty good odds.” Mustard is spicy on my tongue when I suck it off my thumb.

“Did you know your program is fool proof for matches above ninety percent?” Oliver glances at my sandwich as if he wants a taste, and I hold it out for him to take a bite as I recall reading the statistic that proved his claim when the Intergalactic Dating Agency was first opened up to the general public.

I say, “I heard that. I guess that means we’re a sure thing.”

He swallows down his bite and lets out a small moan. “Sure enough to go to the justice of the peace and get married this afternoon.”

“Ah—” My heart skips a beat. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

He puts his sandwich down and then takes mine out of my hands to do the same. Oliver’s warm fingers wrap around mine as he says, “Morgan Jenkins, will you be my wife?”

My heart stops. I do care for Oliver, and falling in love is a possibility but this is way too fast. “We barely know each other.” I pull my hands away. “And what makes you so sure I don’t want a big wedding?”

“You chose elope in the extensive list of questions we had to answer.”

“Oh. Right.” Considering I answered everything as truthfully as possible, and I believe Oliver did too, I should trust our marriage would work. But it feels wrong to marry someone I haven’t fallen in love with yet. “I don’t know. Don’t you think we’re rushing things?”

“Can you imagine sending me back?”

“No! But what’s the hurry?” I drop my gaze and fiddle with the straw in my ice tea.

“Let me put it another way. The sooner we get married, the sooner I’m allowed to work. If I can get my energy powder out on the market, we’ll have enough money that you won’t have to worry how to pay the bills. You can reinvent your business proactively instead of reactively.”

Tears spring to my eyes when I realize he wants to take care of me. I’ve been on my own for so long, struggling to make ends meet, I’m not sure what it would be like to not worry about money. And to take the financial stress out of rebuilding my business is almost unfathomable. But getting married so a man can give me financial security is not the best reason. “I don’t know.”

“I do,” says Oliver. He leans back and crosses his arms. “Your problem is because it was my idea instead of yours, you don’t like it.”

“That’s not true!” I snap back. But the burning sensation of shame that I feel rising in my chest makes me think he might be right. I ordered myself an alien with the sole purpose of finding a husband, and that was the end game of what we’re doing here. It’s not unreasonable for him to think we should do it sooner. But I’ve been so concerned with proving I’m capable of fixing things on my own, that my initial reaction is to reject any of his suggestions—even when I have to admit he has good ideas. Is that what I’m doing now?

Oliver picks up his sandwich and takes a bite as if the conversation is over, and I squint at him with annoyance. “You think you have me all figured out, don’t you?”

He shakes his head. “A wise man once told me not to try to figure out women. But I know we’re going to get married, so I can wait until you think it’s a good idea too.” He grins. “Would a ring help?”

I roll my eyes at him as I realize not only is he going to stop pushing, he’s also letting me have my way. “You’re a brat. You know that?”

He leans forward and holds my face in his hands. “An arrogant one who knows you need me in your life, Morgan. The way I need you.” Oliver kisses me hard, and I melt in his embrace as he reminds me how strong my feelings for him have become.

I’m nearly a puddle when we stop, and the fact we can’t go any further until we’re married makes me reconsider the justice of the peace. Reality seeps back into my brain, and I realize I need to get back to work so I can get the graphics for some advertising created. I sigh. “This has been wonderful, but I really should return to the shop soon.”

Once we finish eating, we pack up and head to the coffee shop. As we approach it, I notice two men in uniform walk out with an alien in handcuffs. “Oh, no,” I say as I hurry to get to them. Oliver is by my side when I ask, “What’s going on?”

“Lady, this is none of your concern,” grumbles one of the men wearing a government uniform.

“This is my shop, and if something happened on the premises then it is my business.” Cameras flash and I notice people holding up phones to record what’s happening.

The other officer glances at Oliver with disgust before looking at me. “This alien was drinking caffeine in your establishment.”

I recognize the Eroscian as a regular, and I see fear in his eyes. Debbie rushes out of the shop. “Luke, I’ve called your wife and she’ll meet you at the station.”

“Thank you,” he says as the officers shove him into a black sedan with tinted windows.

One of the officers says to me, “Ma’am, your shop is on probation. One more incident—” He reaches up and mimics a knife slitting his throat. “—and you’re done.”

Oliver is holding my arm and his grip tightens, but he’s wise enough to keep his mouth shut. As the car speeds away I turn to Debbie as she says, “It was an honest mistake. Luke grabbed the wrong cup at pick up and the woman who ordered it to freaked out. She’s the one who called the government officials.”

“Poor guy.” I grab my phone out of my pocket. One of my closest friends is a defense lawyer, and I want to make sure Luke has good counsel when dealing with the government. “I’m going to call Cassie to see what she can do.”

When I finish my phone call, Oliver takes me by the arms and asks, “What can I do, Morgan?”

My chest tightens with panic, because I have no idea how I’m supposed to fight the crazed war against caffeine. I gaze up at him with tears in my eyes. “I don’t know.”