Chapter 8
LUALHATI
Yep, that was definitely Warden Hallum down there, despite the fact he didn’t react at all to me saying his name.
Just what, exactly, he was doing all tensely crouched in the melting snow beneath the window was anyone’s guess.
The man looked like a constipated gargoyle.
If a constipated gargoyle had super cute mousey ears.
And a shirt, because he was wearing one this morning.
So was I. We matched!
“Hello down there,” I tried again. This time, I did note a reaction in him. A tiny twitch of his ears. “Are you alright?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t move.
“You…” I placed my elbows on the windowsill and leaned all the way out. “You don’t look alright.” I frowned, Dr. Ortiz taking over from the freshly woken Lualhati. “Are you experiencing any pain?”
“No.”
“Pinkie promise?”
“I do not know what a pin key promise is.”
“Not pin key. Pinkie. The little finger at the end of your hand. A pinkie promise is like an extra strong vow that means you’re super-duper telling the truth.
” I leaned further out and down, my boobs squishing against the windowsill, dangling my right arm towards him, pinkie outstretched.
Because the house was small, just a little single-storey cabin with this bedroom window set fairly low, and Warden Hallum was so big, I actually was able to reach him down there.
Sort of. My pinkie brushed the edge of his right ear.
He jolted, but in a tiny way. A frisson of taut energy running through his frame.
“Give me your pinkie!” I called down, waggling the finger in question beside his head. “The smallest finger on your hand.”
After what felt like forever, he raised his right hand from the wet ground and held it up for my access, pinkie standing straight up, the rest of the fingers formed into a hard fist. I wrapped my pinkie around his, sucking in a breath at the sensation.
His skin was wet and delightfully cool from being pressed into the melting snow on the ground, but beneath that slick, shivery cold was the rioting heat I’d come to expect from him.
Even just grasping pinkies like this, I could feel the power of it.
My nipples went hard. Obviously, just from the stimulation of being pressed into the wooden windowsill…
“So you pinkie promise that you’re not sick or in pain? Because I am a doctor. Even if I’m not used to treating Zabrians yet.”
“I require no medical assistance.”
“You have to say the words.”
“What words?”
I jostled our joined hands meaningfully.
“I pinkie promise,” he said flatly, “that I do not currently require medical intervention.”
“Great!” I gave his pinkie a little squeeze with mine, then released it. His hand hovered in the air for a moment, as if waiting for me to reclaim it, before it dropped.
“Because I’d hate to have to try to take your appendix out or something,” I went on. “I haven’t had to perform a procedure like that since my first round of surgical training. I wouldn’t know where to begin looking for a Zabrian appendix. Do you even have one?”
“An appendix is a section of extra information at the end of a written document,” he grunted.
“So that’s a no. Well, good. Glad your appendix isn’t about to burst on me.”
He made an odd sound when I said “burst.” Not quite a bitter snort, but something close to it.
“Indeed,” he muttered.
“So if you’re not sick or anything, what the heck are you doing down there?”
As if to punctuate my question, a big melty drop of snow slipped from the roof above and landed with a heavy splat on his right ear. He didn’t move his massive body at all, except to tilt, then flick, the ear in question.
Finally, he stood. He did it slowly. Stiffly. Like it took a lot of effort. He remained facing away from the window and me.
“I had to check something by this side of the house,” he said after a beat. “And then, I found it necessary to spend some time on the ground.”
Illuminating explanation, Warden. Truly.
I didn’t bother saying that part out loud. If he wanted to give me some more information, he would. I was beginning to think that Warden Hallum was not only an intense, controlled, and commanding warden. But that he was also just, like, hella weird.
I found myself smiling at the back of his head.
His sleek black hair was once again tied neatly, and tightly, back.
The length of the ponytail laid straight along the strong line of his spine.
Up close like this, I could appreciate the tight, tailored fit of his uniform.
It followed the wide V of his torso perfectly, like it had been made for him.
Maybe it had been. The trousers, too. They clung to the thick ridges and shapes of his muscles. His tremendous thighs.
And a glorious ass. My God.
The tail emerging from a small hole in the trousers and wrapped around that ingenious little belt hook was just the cherry on top. A little quirk of cuteness to balance out all the hotness. My cheeks warmed.
I kind of wanted to reach out and tug it.
I wouldn’t. Because that would be insane.
Instead, I asked him if he’d eaten breakfast yet, to which he answered he hadn’t.
He did that weird snorty thing when I mentioned the morning meal, same way he had earlier when I’d said burst. Maybe his blood sugar was a little low, and that’s why he was being so weird and snorty and crouchy this morning.
“I have a few more chores to do out here yet,” he announced.
He still hadn’t turned around to face me.
Maybe he was aware of my bare legs and felt weird about that.
But they were hidden by the wall, so even if he looked at me through the window, he wouldn’t be able to see them now. I shrugged it off.
“I’m going to get ready, and then I’ll make you something,” I said.
“That is not necessary.”
“What? Zabrians don’t eat?”
“We do.”
“Well, I’m going to be cooking enough for both of us,” I told the back of his head. “And I’d rather eat with you than eat alone.”
He made some kind of sound of acknowledgement, not quite a word, then stalked away. I watched him as he went. Without even being aware of it, I’d placed my elbow back on the windowsill and was leaning my chin on my hand, my head tilting goofily. Like I was some kind of besotted idiot.
But I honestly couldn’t help it. The man’s body was a marvel.
It was incredibly satisfying to simply watch him move.
To observe him as he drove those powerful legs, those tall boots, through the melting snow.
Even outside, in the breathless expanse of this wide world, he took up so much space.
Not just physically – his entire presence was something to be reckoned with.
It was as if every step he took was an indication of some deep, determined well of intention.
Every movement a precise measure of strength.
He appeared to be a man entirely in control of himself and his own colossal strength.
Well, except for his ears. I smirked, remembering their adorably twitchy nature. Something told me he wasn’t entirely in control of those.
Humming to myself, I strode from the bedroom, finding the rest of my boxes from the saloon piled up around the edges of the kitchen.
I sighed when I saw the state of the floor out here.
I’d meant to tidy up at least a little bit last night.
But after Warden Hallum left on the next round of box-retrieval, my energy levels had given out on me.
Oh, well. I’d get to it today. Resuming my cheery tune, whistling this time instead of humming, I began hunting through the new boxes.
While I didn’t exactly think that dumping more of my crap onto the floor was the best strategy at the moment, none of the already-open boxes had contained any of my clothing.
Your girl was in desperate need of some undies.
I tried not to pull everything out this time, though. For most of these remaining boxes, simply opening them and seeing what was on top was enough to remind me what the rest of the items inside were. I even found all my shoes and boots.
Only problem was, after opening everything, I didn’t find any other indoor clothing besides my fuzzy pink bathrobe and matching slippers. That, and a bunch of scrubs.
I didn’t really want to make breakfast in scrubs. Especially if there would be no bra or underwear that went along with them. But there were no other boxes to open. Had some of them been left at the saloon?
The kitchen was completely crammed. There was no room left. Maybe he’d had to abandon some of the boxes in the wagon for the night.
Or…
My eyes alighted on his bedroom door. He’d never told me it was off-limits, so I’d stolen in there last night to give him the little joke gift of my shirt. Now, I wondered if he’d seen it.
He must have. I’d left it right on top of his bed. And something told me that extreme attention to detail was one of Warden Hallum’s many strengths.
I stepped around piles of pillows and scented candles and opened his door. Luckily, it opened inward and into his room, otherwise it would be nearly impossible to enter or exit with all my stuff on the floor out here.
After the kitchen, his bedroom felt almost eerily empty.
There was a small desk by the window with nothing on it.
There wasn’t even a chair, which made me think that if he ever actually had cause to use the desk, he did it standing up and didn’t spend long.
His closet had no door, and the only clothing in it were outfits identical to the one he was wearing today.
Multiple sets of uniforms, perfectly hung on their hangers, not a wrinkle to be seen.
There was one extra belt, and one extra pair of boots, both set neatly to the side. And nothing else.