A desk and office chair were nestled under the windows. All Brigid would have to do was look up to see the mountains while working there. She had her own little sitting space, with a few overstuffed chairs surrounding a stone fireplace. There was even a fire already burning in it.
And it wasn’t just a room—it was a full suite. She could see a large bathroom through an open door, and could only guess that the door next to it led to a closet.
“This is…” Her voice trailed off. She had no idea how to finish.
“I know, I know,” Brendan said. “It’s the farthest room from the kitchen. But I really think you’ll be most comfortable here.”
“It’s wonderful. Amazing.” She let out a brief laugh, feeling more than a little ungrounded. “I’m sorry. It’s just so much more than I was expecting.”
Brendan arched an eyebrow at her. “Even after seeing your salary?”
She felt her cheeks heat. “Especially after seeing my salary. I mean, this on top of that… It seems a bit much.”
“I can afford it. And I really want this to work out.”
Badly enough that he’s giving me all of this and paying me a fortune just to cook for him and his friends?
Her stomach sank at the thought. There had to be more going on here than she knew. There hadn’t been any mention of hazard pay in the huge contract she’d had to sign, but still…
“Dane is right across the hall,” Brendan said. “Henry and Vay are next door, but they spend most of their time in the basement. I’m in the master suite in the other wing.”
“That’s everyone?”
He paused briefly, cocking his head to the side. “I don’t understand.”
“You told Vay to check on Henry and ‘the others’ earlier,” she said. “But you just said the only other person staying here is Dane.”
Brendan opened his mouth, then laughed and shook his head. “You’re very perceptive.”
“It helps in my line of work.” Especially when she was entering a new situation. One that seemed way too good to be true.
“You’ll primarily be cooking for myself, Henry, Vay, and Dane. Others may come and go, and I may need you to order special food supplies.”
“Okay.”
“I know this is kind of a strange job, but I can’t stress enough that anything you see, hear, or do at the lodge is to be kept strictly confidential. The work we’re doing is…”
“None of my business,” Brigid said. “I read the NDA before I signed it.”
Brendan continued his earlier statement. “The work we’re doing is important. And we need to be able to focus and not distracted by—”
“Dane’s awful cooking?”
Brendan’s eyebrows hiked up his forehead. She hoped she hadn’t stepped over a line, but from how Zemanni had used Dane’s cooking as a threat before and based on how much Brendan was willing to pay her, Brigid could only imagine what they’d been dealing with.
“Your words,” Brendan said. “Not mine.” He gestured to the door. “I already ordered everything you requested, though most of it is in boxes in the kitchen. Shall I show you the way?”
“Sure.”
He actually bowed as he said, “Your kingdom awaits.”
Chapter Two
“Who the hell let the peanut supply run out downstairs?” Dane muttered under his breath as he walked briskly into the kitchen.
Henry and Craig could only keep Barbara calm for so long without her favorite treat. Her hormone levels were all over the place—not that he had any idea what was normal for a Lyrian in her condition. Or any sentient being in her condition, for that matter.
He pulled the doors to the main pantry open. Not good. The stacks of twenty-five pound boxes were dwindling, and his most recent order was running late. He leaned into the storage space, shifting the boxes around to get an accurate count of how many they had left.
Crap, he had to figure out what to make for dinner, too.
“Hello.”
He started at the unfamiliar voice behind him, trying to leap back and hitting his head on the top shelf of the pantry. He grabbed the nearest can to use as a weapon as he turned to face the intruder.
A woman.
A beautiful woman.
Her dark brown hair was pulled up in a bun and held there with what looked like a stick. Her features were delicate and striking at the same time. Smooth skin, sharp nose, lips he wanted to reach out and stroke to see if they felt as soft as they looked.
She was small enough to be Sadirian—one of the Coalition’s genetically engineered versions, like the soldiers he served with. He hadn’t noticed her while she was messing with something in the cabinets under the kitchen island that dominated the center of the room.
She lifted her hands. “I come in peace. You can put down the beans.”
“Beans?” He glanced at the can. ‘Baked Beans’ was written on the label.
Right. That’s what they could have for dinner. Maybe he could boil some pasta to put them on.
He shook his head, trying to clear it, which only made the spot that he’d whacked throb worse, distracting him further.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“Cooking? Or at least, getting ready to cook.”
That didn’t make sense. Dane was in charge of cooking. Not this…whoever she was.
She couldn’t be Sadirian. Even with the height, she was all wrong around the edges. Her full hips would get her stuck in most of the tiny access tunnels on their ships or stations, not to mention trying to crawl through the small spaces with those…
How the hell does she stay upright with those breasts?
He was having trouble looking away from them. But this was Earth, and that was one of the areas he wasn’t supposed to stare at. Right?
His thoughts weren’t connecting right and his head hurt. He couldn’t have hit himself hard enough to get a concussion, but all the stress of caring for Barbara and with the Reckoning on the way—it was getting to him.
And no regen bed in sight.
Not that he’d use one of the damned things unless he absolutely had to.
“Hello?” the woman said. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just trying to sort this out.”
The lodge wasn’t being overrun by Coalition soldiers looking to take Dane and his friends into custody for daring to try to help Earth form a first contact committee without the High Council’s approval, and she sure didn’t look like the vanguard to a security force. That left…what? A lost Earthling?
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m Brigid. The new chef?”
“Chef…”
“I’m here to rescue you from Dane’s cooking.”
“What?” He lowered the can. “It’s not that bad.”
She snorted, but then her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “Wait. Are you Henry?”
“I’m Dane,” he ground out.
“Oh crud. I’m so sorry.” She scurried around the counter, hands clasped together.
Damn, she was short. And with his height and the V-neck sweater she was wearing, it made not staring at her cleavage that much harder. He forced himself to look at her face.
Big eyes. Another Sadirian trait.
But hers were warm, wide, filled with concern. They were the same rich blue of the deep ocean water the transport had flown over when he and his team arrived at the Florida base the Department of Homeworld Security was creating. He’d never seen that color in someone’s eyes. Not in a fellow Sadirian’s, anyway.
Her skin was pale, like she didn’t get much sun—or had been stuck on a spaceship most of her life. It set off the pink of her lips and made the flush that was spreading down her neck and across her chest easily visible.
He set down the can of beans.
Plenty of Earthlings didn’t get much sun. Brendan was a perfect example. And just because this woman had the big eyes and short stature of a Sadirian didn’t mean she was an ene
my.
Besides, the Coalition of Planets didn’t work that way. If they wanted to send in a spy, they’d use a shape-shifting Scorpiian, like Zemanni. Earth’s Department of Homeworld Security was just lucky that Zemanni had fallen for an Earthling and joined their side.
Dane doubted the High Council would bother sending another assassin, since they had already dispatched the Reckoning to “address the situation on Earth.” He figured he and his team only had about a month to prepare.
He needed to get some sleep. He was seeing enemies everywhere.
“Are you okay?” Brigid asked. “You’re just kind of staring at me. Or, you know…glaring.”
Dane lifted a hand to rub the spot on his head, but flinched at the pain radiating from it. He hissed in a breath.
“I’m fine,” he said. “I just don’t know why Brendan hired a chef without telling me.”
“He probably wants you to be able to focus on…whatever it is you do here.”
“I’m a—” He stopped himself from saying ‘med-tech’, searching for the local Earth term instead. “I’m a doctor.”
“A doctor?” Her eyes widened further. “Well, there you go. You must have much more important things to focus on than cooking.”
He let out a snort, then remembered that med-techs on Earth were actually held in high esteem. Back on his original ship, the Arbiter, they had regen beds to handle everything from minor scrapes to life-threatening injuries. Even as an advanced med-tech, he was seen as a button pusher.
Nutritional engineers were much more essential, especially the ones who designed new and more efficient food sources for the many varied citizens of the Coalition.
His food wasn’t that bad. Considering that he and Vay had only eaten nutrient bricks until arriving on Earth, beans on spaghetti was a feast.
But then, anything was a feast when compared to nutrient bricks.
“Damn,” he said. “My cooking really is that terrible.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Well… I can teach you.” Her mouth opened and closed a few times wordlessly, and she looked away.
“That’s okay,” he said.
“No, really. If you enjoy cooking, I’d be happy to teach you.”
Definitely not a Sadirian agent.
He smiled at her. “Thanks. I’d like that.”
She smiled back, the flush deepening on her chest and rising up to her cheeks as they stared at each other. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was interested in him.
He shouldn’t be thinking about that kind of thing. There was too much at stake for him to let himself get distracted.
Her eyes brightened. “Hold on.”
She hurried to the fridge and opened the large drawer at the bottom that held the freezer unit. She pulled out a bag of frozen peas, then shoved the drawer shut. She turned around, smiling at him with those lush lips.
“What am I supposed to do with those?” he asked.
She laughed. “Put them on your head. You know. Like an ice pack?”
“Those are peas.”
“Yeah. And they’re frozen.”
“Why would that make me want to put them on my head?” he said.
“Come on.” She narrowed her eyes at him playfully. “You’ve never used peas as an ice pack before?”
This must be some sort of Earth tradition that he didn’t know about yet. He tried to play off his ignorance. “Well, I did just hit my head pretty hard.”
She laughed again. The sound was so sincere—as was her expression. His stomach felt a little weightless.
“I thought you were fine,” she said.
“I might be a little rattled.”
She grasped his elbow gently, but her touch might as well have been from a shock cannon. He sucked in a quick breath as tingling energy tore along his nerves, making the hair on his arms stand on end and his dick start to harden.
No, no, no…
“Did you hit your elbow, too?” she asked, pushing his rolled sleeve farther up his arm.
He didn’t know what it was about this planet, but members of the Coalition were falling for Earthlings faster than a ship going through a dropgate. Sadirians, Scorpiians, even a couple of Tau Ceti had pair-bonded with people from this planet.
Dane couldn’t let himself get distracted. Not with the possibility of making so many new alliances right at hand—and with the Reckoning so close to ruining everything.
He tried to step away from Brigid, but she followed, a little furrow appearing between her dark eyebrows.
“Are you okay?” she said.
“I’m fine.”
“You keep saying that, but you’re not acting fine. I think you need to sit down.”
She reached for his arm again, but he quickly lifted it, spinning out of the way. Her touch had felt so good, he wasn’t sure he could keep his thoughts straight if she made contact again.
“I’m good,” he said. “I can sit myself down.”
He crossed to the small table that was nestled into a set of bay windows overlooking the forest and sat in one of the chairs next to it. When she followed, he held out his hand and wiggled his fingers, staring at the bag of peas she still carried.
She scowled as she handed it over. That was good. If she didn’t like him, maybe he’d stop liking her so much. Because he had to admit, he already liked her quite a bit.
Aside from being really nice to look at, she was…nice in general. Considerate, empathetic, kind.
He could already tell that she liked to take care of people—something they had in common. And if that core reactor response to Brigid’s touch was what Vay meant when she talked about her and Henry having physical chemistry, Dane could appreciate his colleagues’ choices better.
It would be best if he minimized contact with Brigid. Maybe even proximity. Definitely no to the cooking lessons.
Damn, he really did want to learn how to cook, though. He let out a sigh as he gripped the sides of the bag of peas, preparing to tear it open.
“Wait.” Brigid grabbed his hands to stop him.
Warmth spread up his arms, filled his chest, and flooded his belly. He imagined pulling her onto his lap, letting her straddle him. His dick was already fully invested in that plan. He could wrap his arms around her, crush her against his chest, taste those plum-red lips.
“That’s not how it works,” she said.
Tell that to the ones who’ve pair-bonded already.
“So, I’m doing this wrong, too?” he asked.
She stuck her lower lip out a little. He wanted to nip it with his teeth.
Dammit.
“Sorry.” He shook his head and looked away, wincing at the dull ache the movement caused.
“It’s okay.” She stepped closer and gently set the bag of peas on his head, right on the spot he’d hit.
The pain intensified for an instant, but then abated as his scalp absorbed the coolness of the bag. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath.
“That’s a really neat trick,” he said.
“You sound like you’ve never used an ice pack before.”
“I haven’t.”
She snorted. “And you’re a doctor.”
“We rely more on chemicals and high tech gadgetry where I’m from. I mean where I trained.”
He quickly corrected his statement, opening his eyes to read her reaction. No sense getting her wondering about his origins.
“From that accent of yours, I’d guess you’re from the deep south,” she said.
So much for that plan.
His speech patterns had been designed to help him blend in with Earthlings who lived near the Florida base. They hadn’t known he’d be needed in Montana.
Even though the entire team had received the new cultural programming, his was the only accent that really took. Maybe something about his adrenaline levels had made it stick, what with him being the only member of the team who knew just how extensive
their programming sessions could be. Programming pods scared him even more than regen beds.
He somehow couldn’t bring himself to lie to Brigid, so he settled on, “Sounds so, doesn’t it?”
She narrowed her eyes at him again, but was smiling. “Well, a painkiller wouldn’t be a bad idea. I could get you one, if you’d like. I have some in my bag.” She gestured to a large backpack that was leaning against the kitchen island.
Dane glanced up at her. She was standing closer than before. Way too close. He didn’t have any place to retreat to—and honestly didn’t think he wanted to try.
“You gonna take that part of my job, too?” he said, smirking at her.
Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth, stammering.
“Relax, sweetheart. I was only making a joke.”
Her scowl returned, stronger than ever, but he had the sense she didn’t really mind his teasing. He hoped so, anyway.
Movement behind her caught his eye. The pantry doors were still open, and one of the boxes of peanuts floated out. Then another. And two more.
Craig…
“Is something wrong?” Brigid started to look over her shoulder, following Dane’s gaze.
“No! I mean—”
He grabbed her hips and pulled her between his spread knees. She stumbled and landed against his chest. The bag of peas started to fall, and that, of all things, caught her attention.
She reached up and grabbed it, pushing it back in place on his head. Which left her sprawled on his lap, laying against him, face only an inch or so away from his, breathing just about as heavy as he was.
His arms were around her, just like he’d imagined. If he let go, she might fall.
Yeah, that’s why I’m holding on so tight.
From the corner of his eye, he could see the boxes of peanuts suspended in the doorway as Craig undoubtedly paused and stared at them. The Lyrian’s natural ability to camouflage himself didn’t hide what he was carrying, and it looked like he’d tucked a box of peanuts under each of his four arms.
A deep, rumbling chuckle flowed through the room.
Coalition Reckoning Page 2