Sage stepped onto the sidewalk and Riggs followed.

The milder weather meant the citizens of Stargazer were out in full force. Cafe tables had been set up along the tree-lined sidewalks and people with bright canvas shopping bags wandered in and out of the stores.

A contingent of tourists in souvenir t-shirts wandered around, stopping for selfies against the backdrop of all the space-inspired shop names.

Sage wondered how Riggs would react to all this. He was so reserved and quiet. It was probably the wrong day to ask him to follow her around while she asked to post flyers.

But this was prime peach picking season and the farm opened for tourists in a less than a week. It was now or never.

She snuck a glance over at her tall, dark and handsome companion.

He observed the street with interest, his gaze taking in the tables, the people, the bright colors.

“It’s a busy day for Stargazer,” Sage observed.

“Everyone seems happy,” Riggs said.

He was right, she hadn’t noticed, but there was a holiday feel in town today. It was likely the weather, making everyone lighthearted.

“So where do we hang the flyers?” Riggs asked.

“Let’s start at the post office,” Sage said.

They crossed Jupiter Avenue and headed down Pluto Place to the post office - one of the few buildings in town that hadn’t adopted the space motif. She supposed that was to be expected for a branch of the federal government. She also knew they stocked more space themed postage stamps and postcards than she had ever seen in one place, so it wasn’t like they weren’t doing their part.

If the usual counter clerk was on duty this would be a baptism by fire for Riggs. At least she would have a better idea of how he interacted with other people.

They crossed the small town square and passed the bird-poop speckled clock tower and the modern art installation. When they got to the door, Riggs opened it for her.

As soon as the blast of conditioned air and tinny John Phillip Sousa music hit her, Sage knew she was in luck. The other postal workers listened to jazz on the radio during their shifts.

“Oh my heavens, Sage Martin is that you?” an excited voice demanded before Sage was entirely sure she could have been spotted, let alone identified.

“Hello, Lainey,” she said.

The small blonde woman behind the counter clasped her hands together joyfully.

“I’m so glad to see you, Sage, honey,” she said. “I was very sorry about your grandmother. We miss her a lot.”

“Thank you,” Sage said, surprised at the lump forming in her throat.

“I noticed you and your sister are getting mail at the farm,” Lainey said, eyes sparkling. “Does this mean you’re taking over?”

“We’re taking it one day at a time,” Sage said.

“And who’s this?” Lainey asked, looking up at Riggs as if she had just noticed him, and liked what she saw.

“I’m Riggs,” he said, stepping forward before Sage had a chance to introduce him. “We’re bringing around flyers to let everyone know about Pick-Your-Own-Peaches at Martin’s Bounty. May we hang one here?”

Sage almost fell over. She had never known Riggs to be so quick to speak.

“Well, this is a government facility, so I can’t just hang it in the window,” Lainey said. “But we do have a community bulletin board in the town green. I’ll get the key for you so you can hang it up.”

“Thank you,” Riggs replied. “That would be great.”

They watched as Lainey reached for the key hanging on the wall beside the counter. Her short stature made retrieving it a challenge. She stretched up and gave a little hop and missed it by an inch.

“Let me help you,” Riggs offered.

“What a gentleman,” Lainey said with a big smile, opening the door to let him behind the counter.

He plucked it off the wall while Lainey looked up at him, examining him as carefully as if she expected to take a quiz on his exact physical specifications as soon as he was finished.

When he turned to her, she shooed him back out the door.

“There you go, just bring it back after you put up your flyer,” she said, winking at Sage.

“Thank you, we’ll be right back with it,” Sage said.

Riggs held the door for her and they ventured back into the sunshine on the way to the bulletin board.

He handed her the key and she used it to open the glass door.

When they had hung the flyer between a handwritten ad for a local karate studio, and an official notice of thanks to the town for sending the scouts to their annual canoe trip to Heaven Falls, Sage locked the glass again.

“I’ll bring it back in,” Riggs offered, jogging toward the post office entrance with the key.

Sage stared after him, amazed at this confident man with whom she was spending her afternoon.

It turned out his easy way with Lainey wasn’t a fluke.

A few hours later, the box of flyers was nearly empty.

They had visited most of the storefronts in town. Riggs had even gone into the tattoo parlor and made a new friend. The whole town was lined with Pick-Your-Own-Peaches info. At least if things didn’t go well this weekend it wouldn’t be because no one knew about the farm being open.

“Shall we head over to the hardware store and then go home?” Sage asked.

“That sounds good,” Riggs agreed.

They entered the door under the Helios Hardware sign.

“What can I help you with?” the clerk asked. “Oh, hey, Sage.”

“Hi, Angel, what’s new?” Sage asked.

“Not much, wow—” Angel replied, cutting herself off when she got a load of Riggs.

“Hi there,” Riggs said politely. “I’m Riggs.”

Sage got plenty of fresh air and exercise and a shower every morning. She knew she was young and healthy and she had always taken a bit of pride in her wavy brown hair.

But Angel Hicks sported a more cultivated look that included plenty of lip gloss and a lacy, low cut tank top. Sage could hardly blame the woman for playing up her femininity since she worked in a male-dominated industry. But as Riggs approached Angel with his hand extended, Sage couldn’t help worrying he might find her… interesting.

If he did, he didn’t show it.

As Angel gazed up at him, wide-eyed, Riggs shook her hand politely and stepped back, his eyes never going south of her neck.

“Angel Hicks,” Angel breathed, a moment too late.

“We would like to buy some paint, Angel Hicks,” Riggs said. “Do you have good paint for an outdoor sign?”

The mention of a need for something in the range of Angel’s expertise snapped her out of her trance, and she launched herself out from behind the counter and marched down one of the dusty aisles.

“I sure do,” she said. “Follow me.”

Sage and Riggs trailed after her and found themselves looking at a row of paint cans and canisters of spray paint.

“Enamel is the best for outdoor use, though acrylic is less expensive,” Angel explained. “Personally, I like to finish an exterior sign with a wood sealant to really protect the paint.”

“We’ll go with whatever you suggest,” Sage said. “We want a white background and we’ll do black lettering.”

Angel nodded as if they were soldiers at war, and Sage was her superior, about to send her on a mission behind enemy lines.

While Angel applied herself to snagging various cans and brushes off the shelves, Sage watched Riggs examine the shelves.

“What are you looking at?” she asked.

“Have a lot of people been buying sign paint lately?” he asked, his hand skimming a canister of red spray paint.

“Sure,” Angel said, emerging from the shelves. “Lots of local folks like to touch up their signs from year to year. Or change them up. Especially with all the newcomers around lately.”

“Anyone buy red paint?” Riggs asked.

“I guess,” Angel replied. “People buy all sorts of colors.”

Riggs nodded, looking a little disappointed.

But Sage was thunderstruck.

Riggs might be on the quiet side, and at times his inexperience on this planet could make him seem childlike, but the big alien was anything but innocent.

He was attractive, yes, but that was not his most remarkable quality. He was smart, charismatic, and he had a drive so singular that it felt familiar.

It felt like her own.

They paid for their purchases quickly and then emerged into the sunshine once again.

Riggs turned to her and she nearly lost herself in his startlingly azure eyes.

“Where should we go to paint the sign?” he asked.

His voice was husky, as if he were noticing her in the same way. As if he wanted to be alone with her.

She found herself naming the one place she knew she shouldn’t mention. The place she had often escaped to during the summers she’d spent on the farm with her grandparents.

A place where they would most definitely be alone.