Chapter 17 Lacy
Lacy
Alone in the engine room, I took a few minutes to recenter myself. Breathing in the oil-scented air cleared Dax’s fresh scent from my nose, but did nothing to erase the memory of his taste.
“Get it together, Lacy,” I muttered. I still hadn’t convinced him to help me find Layla, but I had an idea now. A good one.
Determined to be on my best behavior, no matter how much I wanted to just stroll onto the bridge, I stopped outside and knocked on the open door. “Can I come in?”
He turned away from a data screen to face me. “You’re asking this time?” Humor laced his voice.
My cheeks warmed, but I didn’t argue because I deserved it. “I can play nice.”
“C’mon in.”
He was sitting in the captain’s chair, which was fine, it was his, but I still was drawn to it after my time on Mako.
I took the navigator’s seat. He studied me a long moment and I tried not to squirm. “You’ve got something . . .” Trailing off, he gestured to his cheek.
Dammit. I wrapped my sleeve over my wrist and scrubbed at my cheek. “Better?” I prayed I hadn’t made it worse.
“Better,” he confirmed. “You’re sure the engines are running smoothly?”
“I’m sure. I gave them a little extra TLC, but they would’ve been fine until your mechanic got here and inspected them.” Would he take the opening and tell me that he didn’t have a mechanic?
“Good. When I saw you working on them, I got worried.” He stared at the stars outside. “Some days I worry that I bought the wrong ship.”
My eyes widened and I gasped at his blatant blasphemy. “He doesn’t mean that, baby!” I patted the console. “You’re a wonderful ship and he’s lucky to have you.” I continued to pet Fortuna so she didn’t get offended.
“Are you talking to my ship?” His voice was dryly curious.
“Yes! And you should too. She’s the one keeping you safe from the wonders of space. Didn’t they teach you anything in the space corps?”
He didn’t respond right away, so I glanced at him sideways. Was he going to laugh at me? I’d never met an engineer who didn’t speak to their ships and their engines.
“They taught us that our armor and our weapons provided that protection.” He paused. “Well, maybe not from space. But they taught us that our odds of survival were only as good as our gear.”
It was a smaller, colder way to put it, but yeah, I agreed. “Think of Fortuna as the biggest—and best—piece of gear you own. If you love her and care for her, she’ll do the same for you.”
“That a lesson from growing up in space?”
“I don’t think anyone ever said it out loud, but yeah, our ship was our home. Why wouldn’t we love her and care for her?”
I felt his gaze on me. “What’s the name of your family’s ship?”
I swallowed hard. No way I was telling him that. He’d drop me on the next planet. Sure, right now he was considering that move, but if he learned I grew up on one of the most infamous smuggler ships . . . Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.
Ignoring his question, I said, “Fortuna was a good purchase. She could probably use some upgrades. I’m happy to give you recommendations. Hopefully you got a good price and have money left for modifications?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I spent everything we had saved up on the ship, fuel, and enough supplies to get us to our first cargo run.” He glared at me. “The cargo run I was supposed to start from Elegium Station.”
I ignored the flicker of guilt his words caused. I could—would!—fix that. He just needed to agree to keep me on. “But you got a good deal, right?”
He shrugged and mumbled a price.
I couldn’t have possibly heard him correctly. I repeated the price.
“Yeah.”
“For this ship?” I rubbed the console again, letting Fortuna know that I wasn’t being judgy.
“Yeah.”
How did you tell a man that he’d been screwed by someone who knew ships better than he did? “Oh. Uh. Wow.” I exhaled. “You’ve, uh, gotta watch those used-ship dealers.”
He frowned and I felt like I’d kicked a puppy. “That bad, huh?”
I thought about soft selling it. Then again, I’d hate it if someone did that to me.
“It’s not great. You probably could have bargained it down maybe a third, more if she has any issues.”
“One of the cargo-hold doors sticks. The dealer raised one to show me the interior. I didn’t think to test the other.”
I winced, couldn’t help it. “I can fix that.”
“You can?” The hope in his voice was promising.
I placed my hand on his arm before I remembered how dangerous that could be.
The muscles in his forearm tensed under my touch.
“Don’t panic. She runs. Maybe we give her a little extra lovin’ on our way to get cargo.
Do you have a job lined up?” He’d obviously been looking for one.
I recognized the posting board he had pulled up.
Dax shook his head.
“Okay,” I said brightly, “this is what we’re going to do.”