Chapter 5
Hattie
Crud. She had asked for a topic change but didn’t actually have a topic in mind to change to. And she didn’t want to lapse back into uncomfortable silence. She was making progress! They were being friendly and companionable. That was the goal!
The goal was not to get hot and bothered every time her arm brushed against the corded steel that was his forearm in the space between their seats.
Or to be hypnotized by the woodsy, masculine smell that came from him.
Or to fall deep into those blue-green eyes and float away like they were the ocean pulling her out to sea.
Crud.
“What’s your favorite food on Earth so far?”
She winced at the first question to come flying out of her mouth. Of course, it was about food. He had made that comment about her size and food was the very first thing she brought up.
But she liked food, dang it! And she was genuinely interested. She wanted to know what he was enjoying down here and what he didn’t.
“Those mushrooms we had at Alanna and Survii’s mating ceremony,” Tuvo said after a pause to think while she was busy berating then uplifting herself. “The ones that came on the side of the raw meat?”
“The portobello mushrooms?” She smiled. “I’m not surprised you guys like that one.”
“It was very good. Cooked very well. But the raw meat surprised me. I thought humans couldn’t eat raw meat.”
Hattie chuckled. “Steak tartare. It’s one of the only meats humans eat raw. Besides fish, but you guys don’t eat fish.”
Tuvo grimaced. “I cannot even stand the smell.”
“A shame, because fish on Turv is delicious. It took me forever to find some, but when I fried it up with some of that sweet-spicy sauce I made? Ugh, so good. The girls loved it. The guys in the kitchen with me though? Not so much.”
“I imagine,” Tuvo chuckled, the deep rumble striking right in her belly, heating her blood, and warming her heart. That small smile on his harsh features did good things to her insides. “It probably took forever to get the smell out.”
Hattie stuck her tongue out at him before laughing. “Yeah. The guys in the kitchen are really nice though. They never seriously complain when I’m in there trying my human experiments. And they taste test my food. Most of it, anyway.”
“Your attempts to build a menu both species can enjoy?”
“Yeah! I’m going to make a whole list! That way, if there’s any other humans that end up mating a domini, they’ll have menu options. Ready and waiting for them.”
He gave her a long look until she shifted in her seat. “What?”
“You became very passionate speaking about that. This goal is important to you?”
“Well, yeah.” She mumbled, shrinking in her seat.
“I know it probably doesn’t sound important, especially compared to militarily protecting all of Turv, but food is important.
An army moves on its belly, you know. That’s a human phrase.
And food is a huge part of being human. A lot of important parts of many different cultures are built around food.
Holidays involve people coming together over food.
To break bread with someone is literally a phrase which means to foster feelings of understanding and good relations. ”
“Bread is the human staple food, yes?”
“Yeah. Food is super important. There’s nothing else like it.
I mean, we could all be drinking protein smoothies and taking vitamins and call it good, but no one does that.
Because food is life. It’s joy and togetherness and…
” Her voice trailed off as she realized she was, again, the fat chick sitting there espousing how good food was.
To the guy who rejected her because of her size.
She was trying really hard not to let it bother her, but how could it not when Keith was sitting right there – already connected to the plane’s wi-fi – reminding her of what happened the last time she had explained her love of cooking to a guy.
“Don’t stop.”
She looked back at Tuvo, surprised by the soft eagerness in his words.
“What?”
“Don’t stop,” he said again, giving her such a heartbreakingly tender look, it hurt to see. “You’ve never looked so alive and eager before. Tell me more. I want to hear about your dream.”
Hattie suddenly found it hard to breathe. Trapped in Tuvo’s gaze. In the kindness, the simmering joy, there. Like he really was interested in what she had to say. As if he really did care.
“Tuvo, you-”
“Yo, Hats,” Keith called to her without looking up from his food. “I’m hungry. This place has a kitchen, right?”
“Er, yeah.” Frowning, she leaned past Tuvo’s large chest to look at him. Tuvo wasn’t growling, but he certainly didn’t look happy about the interruption.
“Can you make me something?” Keith gave her a smile. “You’re such a good cook. I’ve really been missing your food. And we don’t have any sky waitresses since Tiny over there is obsessed with security or some shit.”
Hattie frowned. He had complimented her, yet somehow it didn’t feel like it.
“What did he say?” Tuvo asked in Domtri, glaring at Keith like he might be tempted to pick him up by the throat for daring to speak to her at all.
“Oh, nothing. He just said he was hungry.”
“I fail to see how that’s your problem.”
“He wanted me to cook. There’s a little kitchen here. I can’t promise anything gourmet, but I know we have food. Are you hungry, Tuvo?”
He glared at the male for a second more before turning back at her. The speed with which his expression softened melted her.
“I could eat. Would you mind letting me watch and, if I can, help?”
“No, come on,” she beamed, trying not to look too excited as she bounced to her feet. The flight was going to be about ten hours – faster than a commercial jet, but still long. They had a lot of time to kill and taking on the challenge of cooking in the sky sounded like fun.
Tuvo stood to follow her to the small kitchen that, usually, would be where any stewards would be working. But since Tuvo wanted no one but the most necessary personnel – i.e. the pilot – to be with them, it was her space now.
It was kind of cool, in a new experience way.
As Tuvo stood to follow her, having to bend his head to walk through the jet, Keith, once again, called him a simp. Under his breath, because he definitely wasn’t going to call him that straight to his face.
Tuvo growled at him as he passed.
Hattie ignored both males as she led the way.
Cooking with Tuvo, even with the limited supplies and ingredients she had on the jet, was a strangely enjoyable experience.
Not because she liked cooking in a tiny kitchen where her hips and butt kept hitting things and Tuvo had to crouch in the entrance, but because Tuvo was interested in what she was doing.
He asked questions. He asked to taste the food.
He even tried the bread, though Hattie knew he couldn’t actually eat it.
The domini didn’t eat grains – it was like they, as a species, all had a gluten intolerance.
But he tried it because it was a coffee cake, and she made a sound of delight upon tossing a bite into her mouth.
He enjoyed the sweetness, not the bread.
But he ate it. And he tried the warmed nuts and the salad and the chicken – he ate the meat raw. She found it odd to give him raw chicken. It went against everything that had been drilled into her in culinary school, but he chewed it with all apparent enjoyment.
She spent a while sampling food with him, laughing and trying things that were new for no other reason than they were doing it in the sky. Like being thirty thousand feet in the air somehow made the usually mundane chore that much more fun.
Or maybe that was because Tuvo was there with her. Giving her that understated smile that barely turned up at the corners as he watched and took an interest in what she was doing.
“Hey, what’s going on back here?” Keith asked sometime later, walking towards the small kitchen with a frown on his face. “Are you cooking or what, Hats?”
“Oh!” She winced guiltily. “Sorry. I kind of forgot. H-Hold on, I’ll make you a plate.”
He stared at her in slack jawed amazement as Tuvo ate the raw chicken pieces coated in garlic and herb butter she had made for him.
“Seriously, Hattie?” Keith grumbled. “You can’t even do this much? I asked for one thing.”
Tuvo started growling. Unable to understand Keith but picking up his tone.
“Sorry,” Hattie said, meaning it. She had come back here with the intention of cooking for him, after all. She had just gotten distracted.
Keith gave a long-suffering sigh. “See, Hats, this is why you’re never going to keep a guy. No one else would be willing to put up with this kind of thing.”
“I said, I was sorry,” she said softly, hating how easy it was for him to make her feel small.
Tuvo was already on his feet, snarling at Keith as he slammed his bowl on the counter.
“No, Tuvo, it’s fine,” she rushed to say, ready to take full blame for this one.
She didn’t get the chance as the intercom dinged overhead and the pilot spoke-
“Hey, everyone. Bit of an update. I’m getting some notifications that the engine might be having some difficulties, so I’m going to have to make an unscheduled stop.
Our closest airport right now is in the Azores.
Some islands out here in the Atlantic. I’ve already contacted the airport and we’ve got clearance to land and do some repairs. We’ll be there in about an hour.”
The intercom dinged and Keith immediately looked frightened.
“Engine trouble?” He repeated, peering out the window at the seemingly endless expanse of blue surrounding them. “What the fuck does that mean, ‘engine trouble’? It’s a private jet. What kind of bullshit is this!?”
“Hattie?” Tuvo stepped between her and the ranting Keith. “What did he say? The pilot? What’s happening?”
She translated quickly and Tuvo looked thoughtful.
“Very well,” he said. “It can’t be helped. “Let me help you set the galley to rights, then we’ll take our seats.”
They quickly cleaned and stored everything before returning to the front and sitting. Keith was already there, recording more videos of himself. Hattie could see the caption now…
When your privet jet has engine trouble… Probably with him rolling his eyes. Yup, there it was. The persona he cultivated online was blatantly braggadocios. He definitely wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to ‘complain’ about something like this.
Hattie tried to sit away from the window this time – to put herself between Keith and Tuvo. She wasn’t given the chance.
When she started to turn to take her seat, Tuvo’s hands were suddenly there, gripping her with a surprisingly gentle strength, and steering her back towards her original seat. He did it so effortlessly, so smoothly, she didn’t even stumble in her steps.
She plopped down, because that’s where her momentum was taking her, and turned as Tuvo sat next to her. Keeping himself between her and Keith instead.
He buckled his seatbelt and relaxed back. Like he hadn’t just effortlessly manhandled her.
Like her body wasn’t on fire from being manhandled.
Not in a domineering way, but in an effortless, oddly kind way. He had adjusted her course without even disturbing her. Strong and dominating but gentle and thoughtful at the same time. How could one male do both so easily?
Hattie loved it when a guy took control of a situation. When she didn’t have to think about every little decision. When she didn’t have to tell someone to clean the kitchen or pick up their dirty clothes out of the bathroom or to clean up a mess they made.
Tuvo didn’t ask to sit between her and Keith and act as a barrier to the male he very clearly saw as some kind of emotional threat to her.
He just did it. Like he helped her clean the kitchen and put away the half-cooked food.
Like he had carried the luggage here and organized the security and was now on his phone, connected to the wi-fi, messaging Bertrand to ask him for assistance.
He didn’t even require her to translate since he and Bertrand had a whole language based on the hieroglyphic properties of emojis.
It was probably the most attractive thing about him. Hattie loved a guy who took charge without being rude or forceful about it.
No! Those were wrong thoughts!
They were friends!
She appreciated friends who took charge and cared for her and looked so deliciously sexy lounging in a private jet, his huge hands completely engulfing his phone.
Hattie popped her ears as she felt the pressure in them increasing with their descent and looked out the window at the distant water rushing below them. Trying her very hardest not to think about how much fun it would be to climb into Tuvo’s seat and bounce on his dick.
In a friendly way. Of course.