Chapter 45
MITCHELL
I woke up my favorite way ever, from the feeling of a warm, hard body sliding into bed behind me, pulling me close.
“You’re back” I said, turning to face Jolar, then hurriedly trying to cover my mouth as I yawned.
“Shh, go back to sleep. It’s only six-thirty.”
I snuggled against his chest, reveling in the feel of him simply being there and holding me. I had no idea why he came back quite so early, but I could wait until I had more sleep to find out why.
I woke up to the bed bouncing.
“Daddy!” Neal shouted, jumping up and down, “You’re back! I’m hungry!”
“I am!” Jolar said, holding his arms open. Neal happily flung himself down into them, elbowing me in the chest in the process.”
“Ooff,” I grunted, wincing. “What have I said about jumping on the bed? That hurt.”
“Sorry, Papa,” Neal said, looking contrite. “I gots too excited.”
Jolar kissed his temple. “Go get changed into some shorts and a t-shirt and put your sandals on while Papa and I get dressed. Then we’ll go out to breakfast.”
“Yay!” Neal hopped away, taking off for his room at a run.
“We still need to work on that,” I said, chuckling. “One day he’s going to run into something and hurt himself.” I sat up, stretching my arms over my head, wincing as the spot Neal hit gave a small twinge. “How’d your trip go?”
He swung his legs over the side, cricking his neck from side to side. “It was fruitful.”
“You caught the guy?” I couldn’t contain the excitement in my voice.
He stood up, turning to face me as I climbed out of bed. Neal was pretty good at dressing himself, so I knew we didn’t have long before he’d burst back in.
“No. It was his younger brother, though, and he gave us some very interesting information, including a lead on where to start looking.”
“Well, that’s good news. And poor guy! How’d he react to finding out his brother is probably a murderer?”
“Shocked,” Jolar called over his shoulder as he went into the en suite bathroom.
I hastily took off the t-shirt I’d slept in and took out a clean one, along with a pair of shorts, quickly donning them both. Jolar reappeared just as I finished, and I rushed past him, all too suddenly aware of just how full my own bladder was.
“He seemed to be a nice male. I hope his close resemblance to his older brother does not cause him problems down the line.”
I flushed, then washed my hands. “They look that much alike, huh?”
“Nearly identical. It is why the facial recognition software sent the alert.”
“Oh, man, poor dude. Hopefully he doesn’t keep getting pulled in.”
“Xeranos updated the file so the program will cross reference his image more closely. There were small but noticeable differences.”
“Well that’s good. Um, hey, not that shirt. Wear this one instead. I took the shirt he was about to put on and handed him one I liked better as it made his eyes pop.
“Okay, pannycake time!” Neal cried out, barging in just as I’d anticipated.
“Sit on the bed first,” I told him. “You’ve got your sandals on the wrong feet.”
He hastily did as I asked, and I switched the sandals around. “Okay, now brush your hair, and you can bring Stitch today.”
“Yay!” he screeched as he zoomed past me.
“If we could bottle that energy, there’d never be a shortage,” I observed.
Jolar laughed. “He could power the entire Fleet,” he agreed, standing in front of the mirror and finger combing his hair while I slid into my sandals, then went into the bathroom to try to tame my crazy bedhead.
“Stitch says he wants bacon with his pannycakes!” Neal hollered.
I looked at my hair ruefully. I’d wet combed it well enough that it wasn’t standing up on end at odd angles anymore at least.
“Come on, let’s go before he gets us thrown out of the hotel,” I said. Jolar laughed, obviously thinking I was making another joke. I only half was. “Neal, we’ll have to see if the hotel restaurant has pancakes. They might not.”
His lip trembled. “But I want pannycakes.”
“They have them,” a cleaner going past pushing a cart said helpfully.
“Mahalo,” I told her, remembering the phrase from watching all the episodes of Hawaii Five-O.
“Yay!” Neal crowed, grabbing Jolar’s hands. “Come on, Daddy, Stitch is super duper hungry.”
My own stomach growled in agreement. “Pancakes with bacon and a side of eggs and sausage does sound good,” I mused, moving to keep up. Damn, that kid could move.
The breakfast turned out to be hands down one of the best meals I’d ever eaten.
I discovered a love for Portuguese sausage, which the waiter explained wasn’t a sausage you could find in Portugal.
Rather like Italian American food, Portuguese sausage was descended from a type of sausage from Portugal but a version made locally based on it after eating sausage brought by Portuguese sailors.
“Hawai’i is a melting pot,” the waitress said. “Try it. It is ono. You should get some to take back home with you.”
After tasting it, I wanted to do just that. “You think we can get this back home?”
“Yes,” Jolar reassured me and then I remembered that duh, there was a large contingent of Hawaiians either living on board or visiting thanks to the cultural exchange program, which Jolar’s hula and language classes were part of.
Of course they’d make their local foods available, just as they did for everyone else.
It was actually easier to get stuff to make homemade sushi aboard ship than it was if I was in my old hometown.
“Still going to buy some so I can remember what brand to ask for,” I muttered to myself.
“We’ll stop at a supermarket before we leave,” Jolar promised me and damn, there he was being sweet again. I knew a lot of folks wouldn’t think a grocery store trip was romantic, but he understood my love of food even if he was perfectly happy to eat practically anything as long as it tasted good.
“I love you,” I told him and he turned, leaning his head to kiss the tip of my nose.
“I love you too.”
“Yuck. Don’t look, Stitch.”
Jolar and I laughed.