Chen

by JC Hay

  And curse his fool’s heart for thinking he could leave.

  Ten

  Dinner, Chen had to admit, was more impressive than anything she’d had planned with the food she’d brought up to the cabin. The plate in front of her was heaped with a fresh fruit salad, with oranges from Skyreach valley, fresh grapes, some hothouse berries, and diced muskmelon. She’d bought them to snack on through the week, rather than combine, and she wondered how badly Priddy would chew up her food stores. It was misplaced; he’d obviously been careful to use just enough to eat for the one meal and no more.

  “You should eat that. You don’t want it to get too warm.” He moved about the kitchen like he had always lived in one, a towel tied around his waist as a makeshift apron.

  “What about you?”

  Priddy lifted a lid and dipped a spoon into a sauce for a taste. “I promise. I’m almost done.”

  She sat back in her chair, despite the enticing plate. “Good. Then I can wait.”

  He tilted his head to look at her, his mop of hair falling over part of his face. She was able to resist the urge to stand up and tuck it behind his ear, but it was a near thing. Food had always been her weakness.

  He sighed and turned to Nujalik, who waited patiently beside her bowl for what may have been the first time ever. “I don’t know how you put up with her.”

  The wolf’s amusement bubbled over Chen’s skin like an effervescent bath, and she smiled. “It’s because I bribe her with food, snuggles, and the ability to chase down bad guys.”

  “Well, I can’t help you with that last one, Nujalik, but you’re welcome to get the other two from me whenever you want.” He grabbed two more dishes and started to plate the food.

  It shouldn’t feel so good to watch him talk to her wolf. She recognized some of her reaction was tied into Nujalik’s happiness, transmitted across the bond they shared. But even without the wolf involved, she just really appreciated how easygoing he could be with her partner; he treated her like her own person. Not enough people did that. Or rather, not enough people who weren’t rangers.

  Priddy carried the two plates to the table and set them down. Three red deer medallions sat on the plate, drizzled with a mushroom-cream sauce. Sautéed zucchini ribbons had been piled up on a mushroom cap to keep it out of any possible spillage. It looked like something she’d see in a holovid. And the smell... Her mouth watered in anticipation. After the long walk doing scent work, she’d have been happy with pasta and butter, but this was practically gourmet.

  “This looks incredible.” Chen touched his arm as he set the plate down. The warmth of him chased up her nerves to find purchase in her chest. The smile he presented was luminous, and she forgot what she was going to say for a moment. She covered with a lame joke. “I suppose if the whole medicine thing dries up, you could—”

  “Don’t say open a restaurant.” He laughed as he set his own plate down, then put some unseasoned meat and vegetables into Nujalik’s bowl. “Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you.”

  The umbra wolf buried her muzzle into the food, eating with gusto, while Priddy took his seat. He gave her a sheepish grin. “Sorry. It’s just everyone says that like opening a restaurant is some easy thing. It’s amazingly difficult work, with too many inspections, a terrible margin, and too much overhead, and I’m rambling again. Sorry.”

  Chen smiled at his self-consciousness. “I forgot you’d have the inside track because of your family. Can we?” She gestured at their plates.

  “Oh, absolutely.”

  She dug in almost before the words left his mouth. However good the dish had smelled, the taste was better. The venison was so tender she could cut it with a fork, and it practically melted apart in her mouth. The earthy creaminess of the mushroom sauce managed to both soften and complement the gaminess of red deer. The zucchini was cooked without getting mushy. He’d even heated up the last of the morning’s flatbreads to drag through the sauce.

  Several delicious mouthfuls into the meal, she looked back at him. He watched her with a gentle, amused grin that made her suddenly self-conscious. Chen reached for her napkin. “Do I have sauce on my chin, or...?”

  “Nope.” He took a drink of water and grinned. “It’s flattering to see you enjoy it. I feel like I’ve done something right.”

  He’d done plenty of things right, but she doubted he felt that way. Chen nodded. “How long has your family operated the restaurant?”

  Priddy rolled his eyes. “Longer than I’ve been around. They did a pretty good job dividing the labor between the three of them. Mom is the people person, so she works in the front. Mother’s the cook. Dad is... I’d argue he’s a little bit of everything. Accountant. Stock boy. Sous chef.” He laughed. “Though I sometimes think they had Andile and me so someone else could do the dishes.”

  Chen chewed while he talked, enjoying the easy way he described his family, and trying not to think about what it would have been like to have such a close relationship with a blood relative. “Only the one sibling?”

  “Yes. Younger. How about yourself? Any family?”

  She took another bite of food to buy herself time. “Six. Two brothers, one sibling, and three umbra wolves.” His confusion wasn’t unexpected. After all, a lot of the military didn’t understand how close rangers could get. The wolfbond bled over into most of the facets of life, and wolves really enjoyed being part of a pack. “My battle family,” she offered for clarity.

  “No blood relations though.”

  “My parents died when I was young. My grandfather raised me. This was his place, actually.” Not that the old bastard would much recognize it on the inside. She’d done what she could to make it her own, and Elena had—if nothing else—driven out his dour ghost by helping to bring color to the cabin’s décor.

  “I was prying again. I’m sorry.”

  “No, we’re conversing. That’s how it goes sometimes. For what it’s worth, my relationship with the team is far more meaningful than my blood family had been. That’s why I don’t talk about them much.”

  They finished the meal in a quiet that didn’t feel uncomfortable. Just the peace of two people eating together and enjoying great food. When they had both finished, Chen picked up the dishes. “You cooked, so, regardless of your parents’ training, I’ll do the dishes.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.” She leaned across the space before she could talk herself out of it and kissed him on the cheek. The illicit sparks that shot from her lips to her core should have been a warning, and she pulled back, angry with herself for being reckless. That was how people got hurt. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” His fingers trailed down the side of her face, thumb brushing her cheek delicately. “I’d like to kiss you now, if that’s okay.”

  Chen swallowed. Saying no would be the right thing to do. She tried to remind herself that she was mad at him; that he’d endangered her. It was smarter to ignore the achy sense of want that paced in her blood than to open herself up to more hurt. To trusting someone who had proven they couldn’t be trusted. “I’d like that very much.”

  His breath hitched, as surprised as she was by her assent, and Chen shut her eyes as he closed the gap between them. The brush of his lips was like a ghost, a question that sought her approval, as though she’d say no and end it. Despite its timidity, Priddy’s kiss short-circuited her safety protocols and made her too aware of her own pulse. She leaned in, but he kept the kiss soft until she relented and tangled her fingers in the silky waves of his hair.

  It felt just as good as she’d imagined it might.

  She tugged him closer, deepening the kiss and leading him around the corner of the table. Her nipples tightened beneath her shirt, her every nerve alight and hyperconscious of the places where their bodies touched. Even through two sweaters, he felt like he was made of fire. Or she was. Chen started to tighten her arms around him, and he stopped and pulled back.

  The sudden absence of his warmth left
a painful reminder of the cold in the cabin, though her chest blazed.

  “A kiss was all I requested.” Priddy took a step back. At least he had the good grace to look off-balance.

  Chen let her breath out slowly and stood up, trying to ignore Nujalik’s smug satisfaction as it curled in her brain like a fairytale dragon on a hoard of gold. She gave the wolf a dirty look before turning back to him. “Then perhaps we can negotiate another one later.”

  He smiled, lips swollen from the kiss, his eyes shadowed. His nod was deliberate and slow, as though he couldn’t find his voice.

  She took another step backwards, then another. She needed two more steps before the magnetic field between them had weakened enough that she could turn, at which point she headed toward the door. The icy wind outside would clear her head and, more importantly, help her put her walls back in place. Nujalik resented being used as an excuse twice in one day but stepped toward the door anyway, and Chen thanked the wolfbond for still being strong enough to convey her own needs to the wolf.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said, risking a look at him. He hadn’t moved, standing two steps from her chair at the table, half in the kitchen. “Don’t touch the dishes.”

  THE CABIN DOOR CLOSED and created enough of a break that Javad was able to clear his head. Kissing Chen was stupid, but he’d been wanting to since he’d first met her, months before. He couldn’t deny that it had been as sensual, as nerve-stretchingly incredible, as he’d imagined it might be. He pushed his glasses back and rubbed at his eyes to clear his brain. Getting off the mountain should have been his only priority, not playing house with a woman whose life he’d threatened.

  Desire thrummed in his veins and felt like a fist squeezing behind his balls. He tugged his omni out and checked it, but it there was still no signal, and no messages had been passed through from the people that threatened everything he cared about.

  He took a breath at the realization. He cared about Chen and Nujalik. Not as patients, or even as friends, but something more. Deeper. He stalked into the kitchen, angry at himself for having let his pride and selfishness endanger the people around him. He couldn’t even put a finger on when his attitude had shifted from caring as a health care provider to something more. Despite her gruff outer shell, she embraced life with a kind of gusto that infused her whole being. Feeding her dinner had been like a look at her true self; it wasn’t the mindless indulgence of hedonism, but Chen made a point of taking pleasure in things that were good on their own merits without guilt or doubt.

  Javad rubbed the bridge of his nose. He’d already waited too long to get off the mountain, should have left at the first mention that the pass was opening up. Instead he’d stayed, because each extra minute with Chen and her wolf made him happy in ways he hadn’t felt since he’d first started on the Cry. Despite the cold and his utter lack of survival skills in the woods, he felt like he belonged.

  He started to pick up the dishes, then remembered her warning and left them in a neat stack next to the deep, farmhouse-style sink in the kitchen. His family needed him, and it was never a short trip around the system. Yes, Khonsu and Farhope both orbited Calypso, but their different orbiting speeds meant that they were often on opposite sides of the gigantic gas planet. The flight took time, and he could feel the clock ticking in his bones.

  And still part of him wanted to stay. It was foolishness.

  It wasn’t like Chen needed him. Indeed, if there was an attack while he was present, he’d only get in the way. She had the combat training. He had...some martial arts classes when he’d been a kid? Pretty sure that didn’t count. At best, his staying here would give her a second person to care about, in addition to Nujalik. She didn’t need that kind of distraction. He braced his hands on the edge of sink and let his weight sink into his arms.

  He looked at the old-fashioned clock on the wall. She’d already been gone ten minutes. The pass had been open since that afternoon, so technically, it was possible that the people who’d threatened her wolf had reached the cabin. They could have been waiting for this exact moment, when she’d step out into the dark, eyes not yet adjusted...

  A hot coal lodged in his throat, while his stomach felt cavernously empty despite the delicious dinner he’d just finished. He crossed to the window, pulse loud in his ears as he scanned the edge of the woods. The light from the cabin was meager, and it was impossible to see anything beyond the circle surrounding the cabin; even the trees he knew were there had been nearly swallowed by the gloom. Nujalik and Chen were nowhere to be seen. His blood chilled, and he forced himself not to charge out into the darkness and look for them. If his experience over the last two days had taught him anything, it was that he was completely unequipped to run about in the woods in the daylight, let alone at night. Finding them would be blind luck. Not getting lost and creating more problems for Chen would be nearly impossible.

  He hadn’t heard anything—no shouting, no screaming. No gunfire. He had to assume it meant she was safe. It wasn’t the same as the holovids, he knew, but surely he’d be able to hear something if there was a problem. And if he couldn’t...

  He didn’t want to think about that possibility.

  The door opened, and he tensed at the sink. Even before he heard the tick of claws on flagstone, he could feel Nujalik bound into the room. He turned, relief flooding through him and chasing his momentary panic away. Chen had ice crystals in her short-cropped hair as she followed her wolf in from the cold, and he crossed the space to fold her into his arms before he could think better of it.

  She leaned into the embrace, her quiet hum of pleasure vibrating through his ribs as her arms circled his waist. Her chuckle didn’t hide the curiosity in her voice. “I wasn’t gone that long.”

  Javad pulled back slightly so he could watch her face and stroked his fingers along the short hair at her temple, brushing away the last of the unmelted snow. As the lump in his throat released, he found his words again. “I was scared, after you’d been gone so long. I’m glad you’re safe.”

  Her smile was thin and sad. “Sorry, it wasn’t my intent to frighten you. I just needed to clear my head.”

  “Me too. I should go—"

  She laid a finger over his lips. “Let me finish. I’d like you to stay, tonight. With me.”

  SHE’D SAID IT OUT LOUD. Had admitted to wanting something for herself for the first time in what felt like forever. Not because of her squad, or her wolf, or Elena, but for her. It felt almost giddy, to let him past some of her walls. Daring, to have invited him to say no.

  Tooth and claw, she didn’t want him to say no.

  The cold outside hadn’t cleared her head as she’d hoped, but it had focused her thoughts. She wanted Priddy to stay one more night. She could call for pickup in the morning and they’d both be back on the Cry before anyone found her out here. The cabin was the very definition of remote. For once she was thankful for her grandfather’s insistence on being away from settled spaces.

  “May I kiss you?” Chen kept her voice quiet, hoping she wouldn’t startle him away from answering. When he nodded, she leaned in and claimed his mouth. Despite his hesitation to answer, there was none in his reaction to the kiss. He pressed closer, exploring her lips and jaw, hissing in breath when she responded in kind.

  His hands slid over the muscles of her ass, grinding her hips against his. The friction and pressure set sparks through her blood, reminding her of how long it had been since she’d allowed herself any pleasure. Like a banked fire given proper fuel, her desire roared back into life.

  He broke the kiss to nip at her throat, and she groaned. “Does this mean you’ll stay?”

  Priddy stopped, shifting to meet her gaze. His lips were already swollen from kisses, and his hair was an adorable tumble. When he didn’t speak, her heart squeezed. He combed his fingers through her regulation cut, his expression torn between longing and sadness.

  She swallowed. Chen had gotten out of the habit of asking for things she wanted, had b
ecome too used to accepting the status quo, whether it was what Elena had wanted or her current self-imposed celibacy. She grabbed for something else. “I want you to stay. In my bed.”

  She’d shied away from words she’d use as a soldier, words she was more comfortable with. As though she could defend herself from admitting to her desires by not saying fuck. The skin of her chest still flushed hot under his attention.

  Priddy smiled, and the hunger in his eyes eased the sting of embarrassment. He traced the fullness of her lower lip. She wrapped her lips around his thumb, suckling as she watched him. His gaze was razor sharp, his entire being focused on her. It was heady, and she grinned around the digit, pulling it deep before releasing it with a pop.

  His shallow breath was the only sound in the cabin, until he summoned enough will to speak. “I would like that very much.”

  Chen took his hands and led him to the small bedroom, walking backwards down the short hall. Once he’d followed her inside, she turned off the light.

  His hand squeezed hers, and he moved close. The heat of his voice stroked the skin of her ear. “What are you doing?”

  She paused, her fingers halfway done unbuttoning her shirt, confused by the non-sequitur. “Getting undressed?”

  “In the dark?”

  “You won’t want to see—” Elena never kept the lights on.

  His finger stilled her lips. “I do. All of you. If you’re comfortable with that, of course.” His mouth replaced his finger, the kiss tender and reassuring, the physicality of his body pressed against hers a testimony to his attraction. Chen broke the kiss and turned the light back on.

  He stepped in again, rewarding her with a kiss that stoked the fire in her blood to scorching. His hands skimmed across her breasts, withdrawing as she tried to lean into them. He brushed his fingers over the buttons of her shirt. “May I?”