13. Betty
13
BETTY
I ’d let my anxiety about techy stuff get the better of me, as usual. Xeranos, who’d told me to call him Xero from now on, had been kindly patient as he walked me through the ridiculously easy process of syncing my Kindle to the Fleet’s Library. I’d even replaced my KU borrowed books with editions from the Library. I felt pretty silly afterwards, seeing as the entire process had been so simple.
That done, I’d replicated myself a blueberry and vanilla frappe and settled back down into my Papasan chair to start reading the first in the Fire and Stone romantasy trilogy. I was so deeply engrossed in the story, that I didn’t notice the door open and Proslo come in until he I heard his deep voice call out, “Honey, I’m home!”
I stared at him over the top of my Kindle, a grin teasing the corners of my mouth. He’d gone all sixties sitcom on me again, with that greeting and a bouquet of flowers. Then my nose twitched and my stomach grumbled. “Do I smell Mexican food?” I demanded, my eyes falling straight to the bag he held in his other hand.
He smiled proudly. “I got us lunch from Taco Taco.”
“Tacos! You absolute angel!”
I put down my ereader and jumped up, making grabby hands. “Give me the precious!”
He looked baffled, holding out both hands to me. I took the bag of food and started for the kitchen. “I’ll grab us some plates,” I called out. “Grab a pitcher from the cupboard and put those in some water. I don’t think either of us owned a vase.”
“I can replicate one,” he replied, following me into the kitchen. I pulled out two plates and watched as he ordered a vase full of water with food for the flowers already in it. One appeared and he carefully unwrapped the flowers and placed them inside it.
“Stick them on the table,” I suggested, going to put the plates on the dinette table I’d indicated.
“You have a seat,” he murmured, placing the vase of flowers in the center. “I’ll bring us something to drink.”
He left, returning quickly with two sweet teas. I was touched at him remembering what I’d said the day before.
“Thanks. I’ve put two on each plate and figured we could just split the rest between us if we’re still hungry.”
He nodded. “I’d hoped you would like tacos. I understand from the humans I know that tacos are supposedly life.”
“Yep, especially if it’s a Tuesday,” I quipped. And then I found myself having to explain the whole Taco Tuesday thing.
“I see. So it started off as a restaurant promotion and became a whole general thing about the eating of tacos,” he said, adding sour cream and guacamole onto his second one before taking a bite.
“Yup,” I replied cheerfully, “And , um, I put that sporka into the freezer. I knew we wouldn’t have time to cook it in the crockpot for today and we fly down tomorrow.” To be honest, I wasn’t even sure why I even owned a crockpot. I was not the domestic goddess sort and this was a large, family sized crockpot, far too big for a single person. Though I guess Proslo made two and when we got a foster kid or two, it would come in handy for days we didn’t want to eat replicated food. Which, for the record, I was not against eating. Nope. Less prep and clean up, which suited me down to a t.
“That’s perfect, thank you. Did you decide what we will wear?”
“I decided to see what they sold in the fancy hotel shop,” I told him. “I figure since it’s a rich people kind of resort, they’ll be bound to have something nice enough. I mean, it’s a beach wedding that’s an elopement. We could go in bathing suits and it’d be fine.”
He arched an eyebrow at me.
“Okay, yes. I want us in something a bit nicer than just swimsuits, but you feel me.”
His gaze grew predatory and I felt my face heat as I realized what I’d just said. “Oh. You’d like to do that, wouldn’t you?” I purred. “Feel me, I mean.” I threw caution to the wind. Forget a candlelit dinner. He looked pretty onboard now. I’d taken my shoes off earlier, which made what I was about to do next so much easier.
His pupils dilated and he set down his taco, nostrils flaring, as he felt me nudge his balls with my toes.
“Betty,” he rumbled in warning.
I took a sip of my tea, fluttering my eyelashes at him. “Yes?”
“Unless you wish me to pick you up and take you to our room to consummate our-”
“Yes, please,” I purred, abandoning the rest of my meal. Hopefully Pumpkin would leave the food alone so it would be there later. If not, there was always the replicator. I was sure it could make us some more if asked.
His hands balled into fists as he tried to control his motions.
“You need to be certain,” he rasped. “I have been trying to give you time to get to know me better, in the way of your people.”
“Uh huh. And that’s really sweet. But I’m a put out on the third date kind of gal and not ashamed of it. Besides, we’re already Mylos married.”
“Th-third date?”
“Mmhmm. First one was watching TV last night. Second one was breakfast. Now, this is our third. You brought me flowers and everything.” I stood up, pushing my chair back. I sashayed towards the door to our room, glancing back over my shoulder to crook my finger at him. “You coming, big guy, or what?”
He scrambled up so fast, the chair hit the floor, startling us both as well as Pumpkin, who got up from the cat tree and streaked away towards one of the back bedrooms.
“Oh, I’m going to come alright,” he promised. “But not until after you do.”