Embrace the Passion: Pets in Space 3

by Smith, S. E.

  He pushed the thought away. Regardless of what his rangers had been going through, and Fireteam Bravo in particular, he wasn’t some slick-sleeved recruit to lose his head over a woman. Especially since he’d never be able to give the emotional commitment a woman like Nafisi deserved.

  He rolled his eyes and snorted. Never mind, maybe he was acting like a recruit after all.

  The sound made JJ shift, and Rafe carefully stroked his fingers along the wolf’s back to relax him. JJ stretched and twisted, trying to make himself longer thus require even more petting. It wasn’t the wolfbond—he accepted that would never happen again—but the peace of comforting the tiny pup felt almost as good.

  In the middle of the night, the pup had begun crying, confused and scared by the noise of the storm. Not sure what else to do, and not wanting to wake Nafisi, he had cuddled the wolf on his chest until it fell back asleep.

  She deserved thanks for that too.

  He sat up, carefully scooping JJ up in the process, and deposited him on the cushion next to him. The backs of his fingers continued to stroke from between the tiny pointed ears all the way down to the fluffy tail tip. Rafe heard more than saw the puppy yawn as it settled back in against the side of his leg.

  He never overslept. Whatever mental timer he’d been gifted with woke him at the same time regardless of his surroundings. So even though no one in the house was up yet, he knew it wouldn’t be too long. He stood and tucked one of his shirts around the tiny wolf. It wouldn't be as comforting without a heartbeat, but at least it would be warm and hopefully smell familiar. Sometimes, he knew, that was all a wolf needed.

  He padded into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. The clock on the bio-fabricator confirmed what his internal clock had already told him. 0500 hours. The time he normally got up to start his day.

  The cold slate floor in the kitchen was empty enough that he could use it for a workout space, and he took advantage of the quiet house to go through his morning regimen of push-ups, lunges, and sit-ups. Or as much of it as he could. The skin on his back still felt taut, and the stitches pulled uncomfortably during each set of push-ups. Not quite enough to be painful, certainly nothing he couldn't handle.

  He finished his water and, on a whim, looked in the chiller unit. A shiver of pleasure radiated down his spine, and his hands itched to look for a pan to put on the old stove. Somehow, Nafisi had a source for what looked like actual hen’s eggs. A package of cured meat sat on top of the carton, still sealed tight. The first inkling of an idea drifted into his head, and he checked her shallow pantry to be certain she had the rest of what he needed. He could use the bio-fabricator to print some milk, probably even something approximating honey. It wouldn’t be a perfect apology for his invasion, but it might just be enough to thank Nafisi for letting him disrupt her routine.

  Or maybe she’d be caustic and sarcastic. If he was honest, either result felt like a win.

  ***

  Nafisi woke to the smell of bacon. She lay in bed and allowed the delicious aroma to recharge her ragged nerves. Breakfast always had been Gener’s specialty, and she’d loved how he had food going by the time she managed to force herself out of bed.

  Except Gener had died years ago. That meant someone—and she had a fair idea who—was cooking her sacred, limited supply of bacon. She shoved herself off the mattress and belted her heavy robe around her waist before heading toward the kitchen. There was about to be hell to pay.

  She didn't know what she expected to find, but the domestic scene that greeted her wasn’t it. Penzak stood shirtless—why could he never wear a shirt?—in front of the range, flipping eggs in a pan with a graceful turn of his wrist. A moment later, he used a turner to do the same thing with what looked like honest-to-God pancakes. Gener had cooked, but he’d never been particularly good at it. This looked, and smelled, incredible.

  The seductive flex and roll of Penzak’s muscular back and shoulders as he worked made for a show in its own right, and she wasn’t above staring. Just to make sure his stitches were healing.

  The lie didn’t even sound believable in her head.

  Penzak stacked two more pancakes on a plate then covered them with a bowl to keep them warm. Without turning around, he said, "I couldn't find any coffee."

  "I'd ask how you noticed—"

  One arm came up to point a finger at his head, like a tour guide identifying an artifact. "Soldier. Just because I command a desk nowadays doesn't mean I've lost my sense of awareness." He eased the eggs onto a plate and added three pancakes before offering it to her. "Where’s the coffee?"

  She lifted her gaze from his chest to catch him smirking. Stupid, arrogant rangers. It was like he expected her to ogle him, took it as due. Then again, he had plenty to be proud of with that physique. Especially given his age. What had he asked her? Right. Something about coffee. "Normally, I just use the fabber."

  "Disgraceful." He wrinkled his nose at the idea. "I've never met a machine that could make it taste like anything more than warm mud."

  Neither had she, but actual coffee was expensive. She couldn't grow it in the greenhouse and didn't have roasting equipment even if she had. That meant imports, and she already pushed her personal limits for the bacon and eggs. "It's just as easy since it’s making the rest of my meal at the same time. Clearly you’ve never had that problem though."

  He shrugged and started making another set of cakes. “I don’t mind the bio-fabricator. It’s just that I’ve had enough prepackaged meals that I’d rather cook for myself than let a machine print out a tasteless simulation.”

  She’d traded taste for simplicity years before. The printers were impressive in their ability to recombine flavoring molecules, water, and yeast-based nutrient paste into something that tasted like a reasonable facsimile of food. Some items came out better than others, pretty much like actual cooking. And besides, it just needed to get her through the day with energy enough to mind the wolves and keep the ranch running. Anything else was unnecessary.

  Another whiff of the bacon reminded her that was a lie as well. Apparently, she had plenty to go around this morning.

  She set her plate on the island and went to the chiller unit. She grabbed the next bottle of formula to feed the runt. JJ. Since he’d been born, she’d avoided thinking of a name for him, just in case. Once Penzak had mentioned it though, she had a hard time thinking of the wolf pup any other way.

  She'd gotten up in the night to relieve herself and spotted the soldier with the tiny pup asleep on his chest. One big hand curled around the blurry body protectively while the wolf made tiny squeaky snores in its sleep. It was the sort of brain-meltingly adorable moment that a viral media campaign could be built around. Even she hadn't been immune. Hell, thinking about it sent warmth rolling through her veins.

  In an effort to ward off the feelings, she shoved the bottle in Penzak's direction. “Warm this up. JJ is going to be hungry when he wakes." He took the bottle without a word and started to turn away before guilt got the better of her and she reached out to put a hand on his arm. "And thank you."

  His biceps were like warm steel wrapped in supple leather. The blaze of hunger that thrummed low in her belly had nothing to do with breakfast.

  He turned, eyes slowly drifting to take in her hand and then following her arm back up toward her face. For a split second, she saw an answering need in his gaze before he got himself under control. It had been…too long, honestly, since another person had looked at her like that. She’d forgotten how intoxicating it could be.

  She cleared her throat, licking suddenly dry lips. "I'm sorry I don't have any KnitFast to help with healing. I'll want to examine your stitches later to make sure they’re not infected."

  The stitches were fine, she’d seen as much when she walked into the kitchen, but having an excuse to trace the muscles of his back, even in a professional capacity, was too much to resist.

  He nodded. "I figured breakfast’s the least I could do, after you fixed me
up.” He stepped back and turned his attention to the stovetop. “Is it me, or does it sound like the storm is slowing down?"

  "Sounds like it," she agreed. "Then begins the fun of walking the ranch and cleaning up all the mess it left behind. Did I smell bacon?" Her eyes scanned the pans on the stove but only saw cakes and eggs.

  Penzak opened the oven and pulled out a tray of bacon, each strip crisp and perfectly flat. "Here you go," he said as he added four strips to her plate. "Now sit and eat before it gets cold."

  "Yes, Mom," she responded, but she did as he requested. “Why the oven?"

  "See how the bacon lays flat, and the fat didn't burn or cook unevenly?"

  "Yes." She took a piece and tried not to groan in ecstasy as she crunched through her first bite.

  "That's why." He fixed a plate for himself and set it on the island. "Pan is too unpredictable. You need slow heat from all sides to do bacon right."

  Nafisi cut herself a forkful of pancakes, marveling at how fluffy they had come out. A decadent part of her genuinely wanted to get used to this. Gener had been an okay cook, but despite the simple fair, Penzak’s meal bordered on incredible. Still, it wasn’t like he’d be staying. She swallowed another bite. "I assume once the storm has let up, you'll finally be out of my hair?"

  "Triptych could still be coming.” He pulled out a stool for himself and sat. Occasional stabs of his fork punctuated his words as he ate. “If not now, then soon. I want to set up some communications relays that might be able to overcome the issue with Secundus's magnetosphere. Then when I’m not here, you can contact the constellation.”

  It took her a moment to remember constellation was the word space forces used to describe a cluster of ships. She nodded as though she hadn’t been confused.

  “And I wouldn't hate a chance to upgrade your perimeter alerts,” he continued. “If they can detect the storm, they should be able to identify when someone is sneaking around out there just as easily." He chewed and swallowed thoughtfully. “Then I’ll at least feel like you have a fighting chance.”

  She hated the way her pulse perked up at the idea of him not leaving just yet. She didn't have room for anyone else in her life. Especially not a ranger. And extra especially not this ranger. Although, she thought as she took another bite of the pancakes, even the bitter, jaded part of her wouldn't hate more fresh meals like this one. "Fine. Then you're in charge of dinner."

  5

  Rafe sat back on his heels, flipped the switch, and swore when nothing happened. Stupid delta-company, geek-squad geniuses. You'd think they could build their toys to last. Or at least be transported. Not everything could remain in the lab forever. He speared a hand through his hair, which was getting too long for his taste. He really thought the loose connection had been the problem. Resetting the sensitivity for the perimeter sensors had been easy compared to this supposedly “ready to go” relay. There were reasons people thought R&D stood for “Reckless and Disappointing.”

  With a sigh, he reopened his set of micro tools and took off the relay’s access panel.

  "Everything okay?" Nafisi was using a collection rig to vacuum up the dust from around the kennel. Under the polarized lights, he could see as well as hear part of her pack of wolves playing in the yard. It made him think of the pup, JJ, and out of habit he glanced toward the pen. Nafisi had helped him move it outside once the storm had died down. It beat abandoning the wolf in the house while they both worked around the ranch. Besides, the wolf was going to have to get used to all kinds of terrain if he was going to be successful once he'd bonded with a ranger.

  "If I had wanted to be an electrical engineer, I'd have gone into that." He looked down at his hands, which dwarfed the tools he needed to fix the relay. Like all rangers, he was trained to be self-sufficient, but every ranger had strengths and weaknesses. That was the point of fireteams, so they could have a spectrum of capabilities. He understood electronics, but there was a limited repertoire of things he could try in an effort to make them work. "I'll get it figured out."

  Nafisi smiled at him. "Of course you will."

  The praise made him think of her touch in the kitchen, and the way it had made him all too aware of her presence. Yes, he’d noticed her before she’d announced herself, had felt her watching him, but the touch felt like a step toward something. He gave himself a moment to gaze after her as she went back to work. She had an easy way around the wolves that made him jealous. After losing Actaeon, he didn't know if he would ever be 100 percent comfortable around them again. He could command the rangers, but it was different being on the outside. Every wolf felt like something he was missing. Seeing them and not being able to share in their emotions left him longing.

  Reminded him of things he wasn’t allowed to have anymore.

  Nafisi bent over to clean some of the dust out of the crawlspace behind the kennel, the fabric of her suit stretched across her hips deliciously.

  On the topic of things he wasn’t allowed to have. Yeah, there was that as well.

  Rafe turned his attention back to the bird’s nest of wiring inside the communications relay. All of the connections seemed solid, which meant there either had to be a break in one of the wires or a fault in one of the processors. Hopefully it wasn't the latter. Wiring he could replace, but new processors? That was out of his jurisdiction. He grabbed a multimeter and started testing each of the wires.

  He shouldn't have let Nafisi distract him. She'd made it clear she only tolerated his presence because the wolves were in danger. And even that was barely. Besides, after what she'd been through with her husband, she needed someone who could actually connect with her emotionally. He was burned down. Hollowed out. The Ghost, some of the rangers called him when they thought he wouldn’t find out.

  She had enough ghosts already.

  And there he was again, acting like a slick-sleeve, all full of fantasies and forevers. She and he were both grown-ass adults. If they felt a little physical attraction, they could deal with it, or not, as they both agreed. It didn't have to mean anything more. Couldn't mean more, even if he wanted it to.

  He found the broken wire and removed it, careful to note how it was connected so he could replace it. He'd just soldered in one connection and was about to start on the second when a surprised yelp from the pen launched his heart into his throat.

  In a flash, he was standing over JJ. Nafisi ran up beside him half a breath later. She reached past him, careful as she lifted the pup and held him out. "Little help please?"

  He took JJ from her, uncomfortably aware of the way his hands had to brush against hers in order to take charge of the wiggling mass of fluff. The brief contact made his skin tingle and heat creep up the back of his neck.

  She carefully examined JJ's paws, stopping at the left foreleg. "Here we go. He cut one of his footpads on something. I've got some SkinSeal in the med bay. I'll be right back." She jogged off toward the kennel before he could respond.

  Rafe nuzzled down against the back of JJ’s neck. "Looks like we get to bachelor it up for a few seconds. Want to help me finish my work?" He tucked the young wolf into his shirt, front paws hanging over the collar, and walked back to the relay. It was a quick effort to put the remaining connection in place, and he hit the switch. This time, the relay hummed to life. He wouldn’t be sure it was working until he tried hailing the Hunting Cry from Nafisi’s communications setup, but at least everything looked the way he'd been told to expect.

  "See? I knew you could do it." Nafisi beamed as she walked up. She used a squeeze tube to apply a thin bead of SkinSeal to the wolf's paw. "That should hold him until it heals."

  The praise made him self-conscious, and he focused on the pup instead. "I'll take him inside, just to be safe. How much more do you need to do out here?"

  She glanced around, and he could see in the slump of her shoulders that it was plenty. "Need to do? Or want to do? Some stuff, like replacing that guy line that tried to kill you, is going to require more time than I have. Fortunate
ly, I've got two other generators, which should be sufficient until I can bring that one online. Why?"

  He smirked. "You said I was responsible for dinner. I figured I would need to know when to have it ready."

  Something sparked in her eyes, and they softened a moment later. "Far be it from me to turn down a meal. Tell you what, though. You go on, and I'll finish up the kennel. Maybe fifteen minutes, then I’ll be along to help."

  The thought of working alongside her in the kitchen raised all kinds of red flags, but he ignored every one of them. "Sounds like a deal."

  ***

  Nafisi needed a shower. The survival suit helped some, as did the respirator filters, but the truth of the matter was that the dust got into everything. Beneath her clothes, she felt caked in grime, and she looked forward to the idea of a long, hot soak to get the cold ache out of her bones. She flirted with the idea of asking Penzak to scrub her back—it might just send the old ranger scrambling. But he might also take her up on the offer, and she couldn’t decide which outcome appealed to her more.

  Both outcomes disappeared when she saw him.

  Penzak stood in front of the ranch’s memorial wall when Nafisi made it back to the house. Gener had been opposed to the idea originally, but she had insisted. Said that it reminded them to do their jobs right so that the wolves would be good at their jobs and could save others.

  Now she wasn’t so sure. Every muscle of Penzak’s body looked stretched to breaking; his shoulders pulled down like he’d collapsed under the weight of the Three Systems. It was the great idiosyncrasy of the few rangers she’d met—like the wolves to which they bonded, she found that she had little trouble reading their emotions. Whether they wanted her to or not.