Chapter 3 #2
Touched by the gesture, she smiled her thanks and popped one in her mouth.
It burst with flavor—tart and sweet and utterly delicious.
She couldn't shake the feeling that she had opened a whole can of worms by saying too much to Methic, but something about him made her want to keep talking, keep sharing.
He left the kitchen without a word. She heard him moving around in the other room, and when he returned a few minutes later, Jeneva dropped the berry she had been holding.
"No way."
With an annoyed growl, Methic glanced at her as he crossed the kitchen and grabbed the massive axe by the door. "What is this, 'no way'?"
"You're wearing a flannel shirt."
Holding the axe in one hand, he faced her fully, standing close enough that she got a complete view.
A black and white checkered shirt clung to his powerful frame.
The sleeves were rolled up, revealing thick forearms corded with muscle.
Small fibers gave the fabric an ultra-soft, brushed appearance not unlike wool.
The front was fastened with a series of leather ties, and the hem fell to his hips where it stopped just above the very large and unignorable bulge in the front of his pants.
Her lips parted. How had she missed that before? Heat rushed to her face, pooling low in her belly. She hadn't felt attraction like this in... ever. A soft stutter rushed from her mouth.
"What are you looking at?"
"Oh, um, your, your axe! That's a very impressive axe."
Cheeks flaming, she looked away and stuffed a few berries into her mouth.
"Yes. It's hefty, thick, and strong. It performs well." He turned the axe over in his hands with a pleased grin on his lips. "Would you like to experience what it feels like in your hands?"
Oh, God. Her mind went straight to the gutter, and she choked on the berries.
"No, that's okay. I'm more interested in where you got that shirt."
He looked down at himself, one hand smoothing over the soft fabric. "It is just a garment."
"Flannel is literally a lumberjack's uniform."
One corner of his mouth twitched upward. "This was made in the human colony from the pelt of the cloud animal."
Cloud animal? She hadn't seen the colony farms to know what animals were there. "I think you mean sheep. They have fluffy white wool that looks like clouds." She snickered at the description. The thought would never have occurred to her.
Methic hefted his axe, testing its weight. "Ah. Sheep."
There was something so inherently innocent about the way he said it, despite the dangerous weapon in his hands.
How could he be so vicious one moment and so endearing the next?
And damn, did he look good in flannel. The fabric looked impossibly soft while lovingly hugging his muscular shoulders and chest. His dark leather pants were well worn and conformed to his massive thighs, while battered work boots completed the entire lumberjack fantasy.
She was staring again. She knew it, but she couldn't stop. Something about him drew her like a magnet.
"Why do you look at me like this?"
The gravel in his voice sent shivers down her spine. "Like what?"
"Like you are starving."
Their eyes caught and held. The air between them crackled with sudden tension. She was too embarrassed to reply, but she couldn't look away either. What was wrong with her? She had just met this male, and already she was practically drooling over him.
"I will get you better food." He slung the axe over his shoulder, breaking the spell. "Lock the door behind me."
"Where are you going?"
Her wrist com beeped again, louder this time, more insistent. She covered it with her hand, but she couldn't ignore the deep frown that carved lines around Methic's mouth.
"To visit the Majaki village where the storage house is. It has been a while since I've gotten supplies. I believe there may be human food there. Is there anything you would like?"
The warmth of the cinnamon scent suddenly intensified, making her homesick. "Pumpkin pie?"
"Pump-kin pie. What is this?"
She waved a dismissive hand, though her chest ached with nostalgia. "It's a type of sweet from Earth, a pie. My grandmother used to make it this time of year. It has cinnamon and nutmeg and... you won't find it outside of Earth. I was just wishful thinking."
Another loud tone cut through the air. Methic's hand tightened around the axe handle until his knuckles went white.
"I do not care what this Rusik wants." His voice had dropped to a dangerous rumble. "You will not be returning to the human colony today, or tomorrow. I found multiple sets of hyep tracks around the cabin in the early daylight. They will not return to the mountains until the third day from now."
She set down her mug carefully. Not leaving? Her pulse quickened—from fear or excitement, she wasn't sure. "Oh. That's, um, that's a pretty good excuse for staying put."
Yet he had gone out in the night to retrieve her walking stick, knowing full well the woods were crawling with those same predators. For her. This stranger had risked his life for her comfort.
"You'll be safe going out now?"
"I am Majaki. Why do you even ask me that?" Their eyes caught again, and she swore he looked possessive, almost territorial. The look sent heat spiraling through her. "Go down the hall past my bedroom to the small room at the end."
"Why?"
Methic opened the door and stepped over the threshold, his massive frame filling the doorway. Morning light caught the highlights in his dark braid. "Lock this door. I'll return soon."
The door closed with a solid thud. Jeneva locked it and then, curious, made her way down the hall to the room at the end.
The room was empty. A hot spring bubbled and steamed from the center of the stone floor. Beside it, a small table held what looked like towels and a bar of soap. Without hesitation, she undressed and carefully lowered herself into the spring.
And hoped that time passed very, very slowly.