He chuckled, arctic-blue eyes flashing with delight. “Sorry, babe. You’re beautiful, but I like lots of tits and ass on a woman. Maybe if you eat two of those every day for a year and regain what you’ve lost, I’ll reconsider.”
“Deal!” she exclaimed, though it came out mumbled around the rest of the roll she’d shoved in her mouth while she got out plates, forks, napkins, and two large mugs for coffee.
A few moments later, they were seated at her standard issue kitchen table, like the rest of her cookie-cutter apartment furniture, with Lana tucking into her second roll while Beck forked up a bite of his first.
Giving a good impersonation of her reaction, he groaned, “Fuck me!” as he, too, closed his eyes and chewed.
With the initial euphoria behind her, Lana was able to watch the man across from her. Funny, kind, almost on par with Trask in the looks category—though she preferred dark hair and aqua eyes. What could she say? He had bulging muscles by the yard—which proved he was hands-on at work—and though his bossiness bordered on domineering at times, Beck was as near perfect as a guy could get. If she hadn’t sworn off men for, like, um, well...forever, she would have jumped his bones right here in her kitchen.
“What happened that things ended between you and your wife?” she blurted out.
He stopped mid-chew, his eyes opened and homed in on her, then he swallowed, audibly. Reaching for a napkin, he wiped the glistening cream cheese yumminess from his lips and took a sip of coffee before he answered. “Wow. Talk about random. Give a guy a warning next time you blindside him with a bad case of whiplash.”
“Sorry. But, I mean, you’re such a good guy it couldn't have been you. And if she was the one who left, I gotta ask”—she waved her half-eaten pastry at his face and equally impressive physique—“was she blind?”
He studied her over the rim of his steaming mug. “I’ve wondered the same about you and your general. Give and take?”
She thought about it a moment and shrugged. “Sure. But you go first since I asked first.”
“She cheated on me.”
“Oh, my God, she really was blind and an idiot, obviously.”
His lips twitched. “Nothing wrong with her eyes, babe. As for the other, she had a degree from a college which didn't accept just anyone. But she had a need for attention, something I couldn’t give her enough of while building cities and earning a living to keep her in designer clothes, jewelry, high-dollar makeup, personal trainers, and—”
Lana held up her hand. “Okay, I get it. Forgive my critiquing your taste in women, Beck, but she sounds like a selfish bitch.”
“Pegged her in one, good job, Hartman. Except I’d add greedy.”
“Then why did you marry her?”
“I mentioned I liked tits and ass, didn’t I?”
She stared at him, horrified. “Men. I’ll never understand you. Hate to break it to you, honey, but you fuck a cup size, you marry a woman with substance. And the way you look, you really don’t need to put a ring on it to get T&A.”
“That was only half of it. Yeah, she was gorgeous, but she also made me laugh. We had fun together, and she told me all the things I wanted to hear about home, family, and happily ever after. I was head over heels thinking I’d found my perfect woman.”
“What happened?”
“We said ‘I do.’”
He withdrew another roll from the bag. When he began scarfing it down and didn’t look like he had any intention of continuing, Lana prompted, “Marriage vows morphed her into a selfish, greedy bitch?”
“Nope, she was one all along, but she didn’t reveal she was while we were dating. Turns out she’d run through the trust fund her grandfather left her, and her daddy wasn’t prepared to keep her in the lifestyle she was accustomed to. Seems he wanted her to work for it, of all things.”
Lana, who had worked full-time since before she graduated high school, snorted in disgust.
“Yeah, that's about how Adrianna felt about gainful employment. She had to get another sucker on the hook fast.” He took a sip of coffee, before continuing. “Enter me. My job requires a lot of travel. Once the infrastructure is designed and put in, I move on to another project in another city. She was down with that before the wedding. Said she wanted to see the world with me. But once she had my rings on her finger, she decided staying home was more appealing. Trouble is she didn’t stay home alone. Her mistake is she didn’t know me as well as she should have and hit on a buddy of mine from college, who naturally picked up the phone and called me.”
“Oh, Beck. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, thankfully my dick being hard all the time didn’t siphon all the blood from my brain and prevent me from getting a prenup.”
“It had a fidelity clause, I gather.”
“You got it.”
“So, a manipulative, selfish, greedy bitch, and ballsy enough not to think she’d get caught, which cheaters always do.”
“Yep, can I pick ’em or what?” Having polished off three of the sticky confections, he grabbed a fresh napkin, wiped the excess icing from his fingers, and leaned back, his large frame making her kitchen chair squeak as he settled in. With coffee in hand, he raised an index finger and pointed her way. “Now you go. Start with the capture.”
“You know about me?”
“Everyone here and at home knows about the Odyssey, and its all-female crew, on the first-ever deep-space exploration mission. But they know the original eight captured by name.”
“More like the infamous eight. Since we were also the first all-female deep-space crew to be captured, were we really all that awesome? I think not.”
“Darlin', seriously? You saved us.”
She snorted doubtfully. “A case of the end justifying the means. Oh, and let's not forget our compatible DNA and magic ovaries.”
“No,” he shot back. “It’s a case of grit and determination. You are heroes, Lana.”
“Yeah, I guess some of us and our ovaries got it going on.” When he gave her a curious look, she moved on quickly. “It's a good thing they didn't send all men.”
“Damn straight, or we'd still be up the proverbial creek. I can't imagine a seven-foot alien chasing me through a forest to offer me a deal too good to be believed, can you?”
The visual of Beckett Kincaid being tossed over a shoulder and carried off by a loincloth-wearing barbarian made her grin.
“That would have stirred folks up at home, I imagine.”
“Joking aside, darlin’, some at home are pissed. They think the integration program and treaty that make it possible are wrong, no matter the result.”
It was a sobering thought. While on Earth for the few months before returning to the colony, she'd seen the protests. The language used against the women who decided to stay was ugly, and so were the signs. Some of the demonstrations had grown violent and among the hate-groups it was escalating.
Yeah, to say some at home were stirred up was putting it mildly. The escalating violence was part of the reason she’d decided to leave Earth—but not all of it.
“Hatemongering racists and bigots,” she muttered. “The women in the program are there because they want to be. No one twisted their arms. I know because I spoke to many of them, answered hundreds of questions, and made sure they knew what they were getting into before they signed up. It's really no different than any of the marriages of convenience that have taken place throughout history except one of the parties happens to be an alien.”
“I didn’t mean to get you riled, darlin’.”
“But I despise narrow-mindedness, Beck. Our people marry for purely mercenary reasons all the time, to form political alliances or attain financial security, which often leads to two miserable and uncommitted partners. The Primarians main reason is population growth, this is true, but at least they match mates with only the highest compatibility.”
He set his cup down and folded his forearms on the table and leaned in. “Sounds as mercenary as marrying for political reasons, or fo
r money, and though their lauded scientific method has a perfect success rate, that’s not always the case, is it?”
The glint in his eyes combined with the firm set of his lips told her she was the “not always” he was referring to. A topic change was in order. “More coffee?”
“No.” He caught her hand keeping her from getting up and avoiding the question. When did he come to know her so well? “Now it’s your turn to give.”
“There isn’t much to tell. I was captured, but when given the chance to opt-out, I took it. Simple as that.”
“If it was simple, you wouldn’t be going through the motions of life.”
“I’m not,” she protested, looking down at her hands rather than into the ice blue eyes that saw entirely too much. “I have a role, albeit a small one, in building a whole new life for our people.”
“As a painter, not what you are trained to do. And I wouldn't call what you are building for yourself a life. Or haven’t you heard the old adage about all work and no play?”
“You’re saying I’m dull?”
“I’m saying you left a lot of give out of our give-and-take deal.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I just don't want to get into it.”
“Then you shouldn't have taken the deal. Talk, Hartman.”
“Has anyone ever told you you're stubborn?”
“You have. On several occasions, another reason you shouldn't have agreed to our bargain.”
She scowled at him, to which he merely raised both brows, waiting.
“Their world was a weird mix of the future and being thrown back in time—to the Victorian Era, to be precise. It didn’t do it for me, all right?”
“You didn’t fall head over heels in love with your Primarian mate like all the others did?”
“I wasn’t the only one. Eryn and Ram were at each other’s throats.”
“I heard the story about the Security Chief and her Master Warrior mate. It seems his jet-black hair now has red streaks the same shade as hers, so he's doing some transforming of his own these days. It’s the first time a warrior has visibly changed. They’re calling it a love story for the ages. And they have a baby he dotes on—the only daughter born to a Primarian in over two decades.”
“You know an awful lot. Where did you learn this? A tabloid news site on the SatWeb, or an unauthorized biography?”
“Did I get something wrong?”
She glared at him for two reasons. First, his facts were all correct, and second, he was getting too close to the truth for comfort.
“I know these things because I know Ram and Eryn. They lived here until a few months ago. Every time I saw them, with or without their baby girl, they were all over each other. Touching, smiling, whispering privately. She looked pretty darn happy to be so miserable. And never, not once, did I see them at each other’s throats.”
“Whatever...”
“Not whatever.”
“Why are you pushing so hard? What does it matter?”
“Because I have a sister. Her husband was in the military. They were like your friend and her Warrior, totally in love with each other. About five years ago while deployed, he was killed in combat. She was devastated, didn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, lost weight, and other than what she had to do to get through the day, she withdrew from life. My sister faded before my eyes her grief was so profound. Sound like someone you know?”
She looked away from the intensity of his gaze and his question. “Trask isn’t dead,” she replied in a flat tone. “He’s alive and well and here on Terra Nova somewhere, so I hear.’’
“Yep, I heard the medic warn you away from the big badass general. I’ve see him. Tops me by about half a foot, outweighs me, too.” He eyed her critically for an instant. “What are you, one twenty soaking wet? I see the need for her to protect the puny leader of the entire Primarian Army from a scary giant like you.”
She didn’t like this conversation anymore, and the sweet rolls were sitting like bricks in her stomach. Her gaze snapped back to his. “Do you have a point to this?”
“His sister said he was just coming back to himself. You haven’t come close to getting there. You loved him. And he felt the same about you, didn’t he?”
A wave of tears threatened. She had to get rid of him before they overflowed. Her chair scraped loudly against the floor when she stood and began to clean up. She took their trash and balled it up, then grabbed her still half-full cup and took it to the sink. Tenacious as ever, Beck didn't take the hint.
“From what I know, these are hardcore, take-no-shit kind of men. They’d lay down their lives for their females, who are precious to them. Yes, I’ve heard tales about the spankings and such. They make the Primarians out to be savages and accuse the women who wanted to stay of suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. But we’ve had thousands of women transition through the EPIC program this first year. Their tickets have all been punched as one way, Lana. Why is that?”
Her back to him, she shoved her mug into the countertop dish sanitizer and pressed the power button. As it hummed she muttered, “I’m sure I don’t know.”
“Because these women went into this with their eyes open, which, granted, wasn’t afforded to you. But they seem to be happy as clams living the Primarian way.”
The unit beeped, and she removed her mug, hanging it on its hook under the cabinet. With nothing left to do, she looked out the window on the drab, dreary day. It had started to rain, again, which meant more mud in the streets. She sighed, suddenly very weary.
“How would you know how happy these women are when you're stuck out here forging the new frontier?”
“I spoke to several of them when I visited Rebecca.”
“Who?”
“My sister.”
Shocked, she whirled to face him. “Your sister is a mate?”
“She was tired of the constant wars and the struggle for a normal life on Earth. She had to move from California, which is practically uninhabitable now from the constant quakes, mudslides, and flooding. And after years of being lonely and depressed, Becca decided an adventure was the way to go. I was shocked at first and didn’t approve. But she’s an adult and doesn’t always listen to her older brother. And I was heading out on my own adventure, leaving her to her grief and a crumbling planet, so who was I to say no?”
“She’s happy?”
“Yep. And pregnant. I’m going to be a first-time uncle in a few short weeks.”
“That’s wonderful news.” Although the dullness in her voice didn't sound like she thought it was wonderful. She turned back to the window. “I’m glad it worked out for her.”
“Hers is one of many success stories and one-way tickets, Lana. What didn’t work out between you and the general?”
“It just wasn’t what I wanted, Beck.”
“So, you said. He must have been a real asshole. A hard-core military man who takes no lip from the little woman, and we know you can give some lip. I assume he wanted only one thing from you, to keep you barefoot and pregnant. Oh, and he bent you over his knee and whaled on your ass every time you looked at him funny. Have I got it right?”
“No, it wasn’t like that.” She looked down at where her hands gripped the sink, nailbeds white from the intensity. “Trask was always very kind, even in the beginning when I wasn’t very cooperative.”
“Captured and scared out of your mind, why would you be? That must have been it; you couldn’t forgive the mistreatment.”
“He didn’t mistreat me. I told you, he was kind—”
“But he spanked you. I’m assuming that’s what happened when you weren’t cooperative. These guys are dominant and intolerant of sass and back talk. I imagine meek and mild isn’t something you excel at.”
She twisted to glare at him. “You don’t know how hard it is until you’ve had your choices taken away.”
He raised his hands, palms out in surrender. “Hey, I was sympathizing with you.”
“You’re full of it.”
“Are we done here?”
He leaned in. “From what the medic said, he was devastated when you left, darlin’. And you don’t look much better one year out. Something went wrong, and it wasn’t wearing flowing dresses instead of pants or being treated like a pampered pet, which is how my sister describes her life with her warrior. And it wasn’t homesickness for Earth or a burning desire to work in your chosen field.” He spread his arms and looked around. “Because look where you are now.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why not, if it’s over?”
She charged forward and slapped the table. “Because it isn’t over. It’ll never be over. I loved him more than I thought possible, but I couldn’t stay with him. And every day I go on without him hurts to the bone. Is that what you want to hear, Beck? I’m miserable and going through the motions of my fucked-up life because that’s how it must be. Now, are we done?”
He rose half out of his chair, placed his hands flat on the tabletop, and leaned toward her. “Darlin’, we are so far from done, it ain’t funny.”
“Well, I am.” She whirled to stalk off but bumped into her chair, smacking her shin. Hurting, now, both her leg and her heart, as well as being ticked the hell off, she shoved it so hard it skidded across the floor and into the wall. Rounding on him, she stormed back and poked a finger against his chest. “If this is the price of cinnamon roll home delivery and an after-work beer once a week, you can keep it, Beckett Kincaid.” She pointed to the door. “You can also leave. I don’t need this kind of friendship. We can go back to the boss/employee relationship we had when I arrived.”
He rose the rest of the way, standing a foot taller than her, and, if the tic in his jaw told the tale, twice as angry. “You’re upset, and since you’ve been ill, I’ll assume you didn’t actually mean the bullshit you just spewed. If you do, you’ve got a fucked-up idea of what friendship is. A friend sticks by you through thick and thin. He also goes to bat for you when your head is so far up your ass you can’t see straight. It’s not about a beer and shooting pool after work; that’s a bar buddy. Those are a dime a dozen. A true friend is rare, and whether you look at me and see that, or kick my ass to the curb because what I say gets uncomfortable, it’s what you’ve got in me, Lana Hartman.” He waved his hand at the bakery bag. “Eat the rest of those because a true friend is also going to tell you when you look like hell and need to gain ten pounds.” He stalked to the door, not sticking around for a response. “As both your boss and a friend, like it or not, I’ll be by tomorrow to check on you.”
Defying the General (Primarian Mates Book 4) Page 23