Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
MELODY
You find all kinds of incredible things in a scrap pile. I mean, sure, it’s not glamorous work, but I’ve learned that a lot can be made with discarded things, things nobody else finds value in anymore. I’ve also learned that a cheerful smile and a polite ask will get me a lot of places.
I have permission to dig through the scrap piles at the docks. The moment I see a construction crew arrive on Risda, I find the boss, flutter my lashes and ask nicely, and I get to pick through the discards. Those discards help me earn some coin, and at some point I want to have my own repair business, since I’m not cut out to be a farmer.
Do the crews leer a little when I’m working? Sure. Does that stop me? No. All they can do is look. If I have a problem, the Port custodians will be on things and the work contract will be revoked. I’m not worried. I carry a weapon and I know how to take care of myself.
So when one of the workers starts growling about how I shouldn’t be here, I’m ready to give him a very polite “I talked to your boss” conversation and maybe even a bit of flirting, because you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar.
But when I turn…I see a familiar face. One that I’ve dreamed of seeing again for the last five years. I didn’t think it would be possible, and yet…
“Oh my god. Brux! Oh my god.” I shove my hand into the air, indicating he should bring me up onto the platform, and I’m both surprised and pleased when he takes it and hauls me up, pulling me to his side.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he grumbles, even as he continues to hold my hand, gazing down at me.
I ignore that. I hear it a lot in my line of work. All I can think about is how he hasn’t changed in five years. The broken horns, still capped off with battered metal. The heavy features, covered with tattoos that crawl up the thick neck and across impossibly broad shoulders. The hard look in his eyes and the swishing tail.
It feels like I’m back in time, five years ago, a scrawny, starving, beaten and cowering pet of an old mesakkah, and Brux is here for me again. That same heady elation flares through me, and sheer joy bubbles in my chest.
I don’t care that it’s been five years. He’s come back. I can’t let him escape me again. I put both of my hands on the big one still grasping my wrist and bring it to my lips, kissing his knuckles. God, even his big, work-callused hands make me so happy. “I can’t believe you’re here! This is such a coincidence. What are you doing on Risda?”
He pulls his hand from my grasp, a frown on his face, and my spirits fall.
“Oh, shit, are you married now?” I gasp, hands flying to my mouth. Sharp pain sears through my heart. “I’m so sorry. I just saw you and?—”
“Not mated, not married,” Brux grumbles, his voice such a low rumble it should be criminal. “And I’m working. And you’re distracting my crew.”
Brux was always blustery and cold, but I know it’s just a front. I know that underneath that scowling, terrifying demeanor is the kindest heart and the gentlest touch. I try to grab his hand again but he maneuvers it out of my grasp. “What are you doing here on Risda?”
“Job.” His gaze flicks to his crew.
I glance over at them, but they don’t interest me. There’s only one alien in the universe that interests me. I turn back to Brux, my heart pounding with delight. “I can’t believe you’ve been here for a while now and you didn’t look me up. For shame. You know I’d want to see you.”
His eyes narrow, but his gaze never leaves me. I’m going to take that as a good sign, and I continue onward, determined to get my way.
“I’m not trying to distract your crew, by the way. The dock supervisor said I could pick through the scrap piles and as long as it’s a discard, I’m free to take away what I like. I promise I won’t be in the way. You won’t even notice I’m here?—”
Brux snorts and crosses his arms as if to say yeah right .
That makes my heart flutter even harder. “How have you been, Brux? Tell me what’s been going on with you for the last few years. I want to hear everything.”
“Melody,” he says my name in a mixture of exasperation and frustration, but it still makes me prickle with excitement. He hasn’t forgotten it. Hasn’t forgotten me. “We’re on a tight deadline. You can’t come by and get in the way while we’re working.”
“Then I’ll come by after hours,” I compromise easily, and then add my most charming smile as I glance up at him from under the brim of my big floppy hat. “As long as you’ll go to dinner with me so we can catch up.”
Please say yes. Please say you miss me. Please say you want me. Please say you think about me as much as I think about you.
Brux’s hard mouth flattens into an unforgiving line. “No.”
I push aside the twinge of hurt that his refusal gives me. He’s like a hard coating over a bit of chocolate. I have to break that shell before I get to the sweetness inside, and I’m not going to give up. “Then I guess we’re done here. You go back to work and I’ll go back to scrapping.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” he says again, even as I ignore him and sit on the edge of the tall platform, then hop back down to the scrap pile.
“See you tomorrow,” I say brightly, grabbing the largest hunk of metal I can and dragging it after me. I’m not giving up. There’s no way I’m letting this opportunity pass me by. Not after five years of missing him.
I’ve broken through his barriers before. I can do so again.