Chapter 19
Chapter nineteen
The urge to kiss Iax again kept Wynn’s nerves humming while she analyzed, tagged, and filed the data from the central hub.
Each of his slight movements—a tilt of his head here, a step of his feet there—skittered across her awareness, titillating her senses.
It took as much energy to focus on what her fingers were doing as it did to ignore the memory of how it felt to taste his lips and have his body pressed against hers.
When it was time to move to the greenhouse, she took Iax’s hand without thinking, tugging him along. He followed, docile, and she resumed their bargain.
“Why do Calypsons live so long?” The door swished closed behind them.
“In the same way we heal: regenerative cells.”
She stepped up to her newly planted seeds when he asked, “How do you achieve contentment?”
The question gave her pause. What made her happy? For so long, nothing had brought her joy. Even before the death of her parents, she’d found it hard to seize happiness for herself. She’d gained her love of spaceball from her father, and her enjoyment of learning and puzzles from her mother.
Now it felt like she only had her work.
“I guess I feel most content when I can turn off my thoughts,” she said after a time. “Here in the greenhouse, or listening to music.” She turned to him. “What about you? How do you achieve contentment?”
“I still search for the feeling.”
His quiet answer shifted something in her chest. Were Calypsons ever happy? Something stopped her from asking the questions aloud.
Wynn moved on to check her saplings, then spent a good section of time tending the one that had taken a tumble the day before.
A diagnostic of her mechanical systems followed to make sure it didn’t happen again.
All the while, Iax remained close enough for her to feel his body heat.
She’d never been one to allow the hovering of another, but with him, it didn’t feel intrusive.
In fact, every time he strayed more than a meter, she waited until he caught up before she moved on.
Over lunch, where she reheated the soup from the day before, their game of questions tapered off. Sitting side by side at the counter, she kept watching him and tried not to obsess too much over how much she liked how his thigh pressed against hers.
After cleaning up the dishes, they spent the remainder of the day in her greenhouse, tending to one section at a time.
She started showing him what to do, first planting seeds, and examining the saplings, seeing if they needed more fertilizer.
Eventually, she would plant some outside too, hoping they could withstand the elements.
She and Foster had gone through so many genetic modifications, so many variations, and she would continue to do so until she, or whoever the CORE sent to take her place, was successful.
The work was only interrupted by their questions.
“Are there plants in Sector Ten?” She pushed another seed into the soil.
“Many.” He copied her movements with his own pot.
She followed up quickly with another. “Are they like these?”
“No. Very different. You will see them when you travel with me.”
Her hands stopped moving, her heart leaping in her throat. “You have yet to convince me.”
He tipped his head slightly in acknowledgement, then asked, “What would have happened if we had gone to your bed together?”
A strained laugh erupted from her mouth, obliterating her fear of his previous answer. She wasn’t sure if his matter-of-fact tone made it harder or easier to answer a question like that. Did Calypsons have sex? They had to if they procreated, and the history logs could attest to that.
“Um,” she began, feeling heat climb up her throat. “I guess it could have gone a few different ways.” She cleared her throat. “It would have depended on how we were feeling and what we both wanted.”
He nodded once, agreeing. Her shoulders relaxed.
After a while, she asked, “If we go to Sector Ten, how are you taking me there?” If he’d arrived in a pod acting like a meteor, then it was unlikely they could leave that way.
“Multiple modes of transportation.”
She faced him fully. “Give me an example,” she demanded, even though she knew she’d asked more than her fair share of questions.
“Confiscated ships, shuttles, and transports.”
“Wait.” She gripped the edge of the counter. “You were going to steal to get us off world?”
“Adaptability is key to the success of my mission.” He said the phrase more monotone than his previous answers, like he was repeating someone else’s words.
That halted her questions for a while, her mind filled with fear for what would happen if she traveled with him.
When he stroked a leaf, she said, “You seem to like it in here.”
There was a pause before he answered. “Yes. This section of your outpost reminds me of home.”
“You have greenhouses?”
“Something similar, yes.”
And that was the first thing he’d told her that made Sector Ten not sound as scary.
Of course they would have plants. Every station and ship needed bio life for the people to survive, for food and fresh air.
Thin layers of leafy plants were built in between decks for oxygen, and depending on the size of the ship or station, it would have dozens of hydroponics bays to feed the inhabitants.
Arboretums too, along with smaller green spaces, all fed by a network of synth lights to feed the plants.
Refocusing on her plants, she continued her work, pruning dead leaves, turning the pots, and making sure they had the right amount of fertilizer and water. Beside her, Iax mimicked the process, making the work go twice as fast.
She flicked her gaze from the pot in front of her to Iax.
“How big is the habitable section of Sector Ten?”
“Very large. Many live there.”
She wasn’t surprised. Hundreds of people had comprised the original crew of the Calypso, and many more had pilgrimaged to the nebula since.
The structure of their game had evaporated, so she asked another. “How many hydroponics bays do you need for food?” Maybe that would give her a more tangible grasp of their population.
“Our food sources are not like yours, but we sustain ourselves.”
She searched his face, getting the sense he didn’t want to expand on the answer. What was really hidden inside the nebula?
Wynn didn’t ask the question aloud as she set the pot in its place on the rack. They moved to a different section, these plants some of the largest in the greenhouse.
“You want to return, don’t you?” she asked after fertilizing another plant.
He nodded once. “Very much.”
Her fingers rested on the edge of the pot as she stared at him. Backlit by all the plants sitting in their rows, his pale skin glowed. Like he belonged among the greenery.
“What do you miss the most?” The volume of her voice had lowered, almost reverently.
His head tilted. “The noise.”
Without music playing, she supposed this place was rather quiet, but if her thoughts were calm, she’d found the silence comforting.
She refocused on her plant. “What kind of noise?” Maybe she should find another spaceball game to listen to.
“Voices.”
Her fingers stilled, and she lifted her head. “A bunch of chatterboxes, huh?”
His eyes softened, and her chest squeezed. “Yes.”
They completed rack after rack while the snowstorm raged outside and the light dimmed. Weariness settled into her bones, telling her she needed to rest. Emotional turmoil had taken up most of life over the past days, weeks even, and her body was done with it.
But the darker it grew outside, the more nerves assaulted her.
She didn’t understand why at first, until an odd panic gripped her at the thought of Iax sleeping in Foster’s room again. Not because it meant invading Foster’s space, but that they would separate. How had the warmth of his body beside hers become a necessity?
Her hands settled on the edge of the work surface dotted with dirt. Iax placed the last pot on the rack, then touched the button to raise it to the next level. It hummed, followed by a weighted silence.
She turned a little and found him studying her with his head tilted to the side. “Do you always sleep alone?” she blurted.
He blinked and straightened. “Yes.”
She nodded, then let her head drop back. “Yeah. Me too.” This was dumb. She didn’t even know what she was asking, and stared at the snow accumulation on the roof of the greenhouse without really seeing it.
“Do you want to sleep alone?” His question came after several beats of silence.
Straightening, she turned. An inquisitive frown puckered his brow.
“I guess I don’t.” Her body flushed hot at the admission. She didn’t want to be left alone with her thoughts, her memories, but it was more than that too. Her very skin yearned for closeness.
There was another beat of silence, and another. The wind howled outside the windows. She’d had to increase the temperature inside by ten degrees to protect the plants.
“You want me to sleep with you?”
A strained laugh sputtered out of her mouth at the question.
“Not like sleep, sleep.“ Not that she hadn’t been thinking of how he tasted, how he’d felt against her all day, but despite her body being on board with the make out session and more, her brain was definitely glad she’d stopped them when she had.
“But yeah,” she admitted. “To actually sleep.” A shaky sensation had entered her limbs at how much she really needed to rest.
His head tilted. “All right.”
Tension oozed from her shoulders, and before she could re-examine any of that exchange—or second guess herself—she took his hand and led him from the greenhouse to her quarters.
The door opened with a swish. “Lights dim,” she said before they could brighten to full and bombard her with common sense.
Because she definitely shouldn’t be inviting a Calypson into her bed.
Wynn dropped his hand and hurried toward the wall compartment, grabbing a clean set of sleepwear. With a glance over her shoulder, she headed toward the washroom to clean the dirt from her skin, take off her PALM, and change into her sleepwear.
When she stepped out, he was in the same position as she’d left him, his eyes fixed toward her.
“You can use it now,” she said, her voice tight with nerves.
He didn’t move for a moment, then passed her by, the door closing quietly behind him.
Taking a deep breath, she crossed to the laundry sluice, and shoved her clothing inside. She paused beside her bed, stared at it, and wondered what the hell she was doing.
The door to the washroom opened. She tensed, then turned to find Iax stalking toward her.
“Did you want to get more comfortable?” she asked in a high-pitched voice when he stopped beside her.
His head tilted in question.
“I don’t have sleepwear in your size, but you could take your shirt off if you like.”
Stars above, it sounded like she was trying to get him naked. Her lower extremities thrummed, loving that thought, but the rest of her? She barely resisted the urge to cover her face with her hands.
Iax turned a little, then took hold of the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head.
Her mouth went dry. What did Calypsons do for exercise? Because this one was built. Sculpted flesh spanned his chest, defined abdominals disappearing into the top of his pants. She’d felt those muscles beneath her fingers this morning, and now she wanted to both look and touch.
Shaking her head, she lifted her gaze to his face. She wouldn’t suggest that he remove his pants too. From experience, she knew he wasn’t wearing anything beneath, and that would open a whole other cargo container of trouble.
She gestured to his feet. “You should take off your boots, too.”
His head tilted, then he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching down to pull them off. Thump. Thump. They settled on the floor.
She stood in front of him, gawking at this beautiful man while her heart raced. He returned her gaze, eyes glinting in the low light. Even those were alluring to her now, and she marveled that her perception of him could have changed in such a short time.
“Scoot back,” she murmured, her throat tight.
His hesitation made her trust him even more.
“So I have room to lie in front of you,” she qualified.
He did as she asked, keeping his eyes on her the entire time. She swallowed, then climbed onto the bed, tucking herself in front of him until her spine met his chest. He held himself stiffly, his body only touching hers in unavoidable places.
And she realized he didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to cuddle.
“Like this.” She reached back and grabbed his wrist, wrapping his arm beneath her breasts.
He was tense for a moment, then his body relaxed into hers.
She sighed, loving how her cheek felt against his bulging biceps, and how his chest cradled her head. How the backs of her thighs aligned with his legs, their feet a tangle. With their size difference, he cocooned her.
Since she’d never really done this before, she expected to feel claustrophobic, but her heart raced with pleasure. One more deep breath, and tension eased from her body.
Despite her restless thoughts, she drifted off to sleep.