Page 78 of 20% Stud 80% Muffin
Ginger flopped into the nest. “I’ve wanted to know what it’s like to sleep in a cloud of furs. Thanks for letting me stay.”
A knock at the front door interrupted my melancholy. JayJay’s deep laugh filled the dwelling as he teased Geo for his poor night vision.
The laughter abruptly stopped when Ginger and I entered the front hall, and she walked toward him to retrieve her bag. “Thanks, JayJay. You want to come for a swim?”
JayJay stood and stared, his silence thickening the air, and then he belted out a resounding, “No.”
Ginger shrugged, the open expression she usually wore replaced with an out-of-character blank one. I’d worn a mask for most of my life, so hers was easy to identify. She nonchalantly turned away from him to take her stuff to her room.
“So, you won’t be staying at the sono anymore?” JayJay asked her retreating back in his overloud voice.
She turned to look over her shoulder. “Probably not. Makir and I are trying to make as many—”
JayJay cut her off with an abrupt, “That’s good.” He shuffled his feet awkwardly, then stared only at Ginger before his sharp “Bye” echoed throughout the dwelling. An avalanche of snow slid from the roof as the door slammed behind him.
Ginger’s knuckles turned white where she gripped her bag. “Is something wrong with my translator?” She tapped behind her ear. “Everything I say around that guy, he takes the wrong way,” she mumbled. “I’m going to go change into my swimsuit. I could use a glass of that hiscus wine, Makir, if you have any more?” She whistled for the dogs to follow her.
“JayJay won’t like it when I suggest he see Dr. Ten about Rock Dweller and human compatibility.” Geo burst out laughing as he pushed me toward the bedroom. “Go get changed. I can’t be in a room alone with you right now. You smell too damn good.”
He was on to something, though. JayJay’s personality turned upside down whenever Ginger neared.
Moonglow on the blue drifts collecting on the panes of lamar overhead turned everything into a purple oasis beneath. The rippling water shadow-danced against the pink walls of my dwelling.
“You should stay, Ging.” Geo was easy to read right now. His broad shoulders were propped along the tub’s edge—one hand petting Charz, fast asleep beside him, and the other arm a comfortable weight on my shoulder. His tummy was relaxed.
Ginger sighed as she sank into the smaller, hotter pool and sipped her glass of hiscus wine.
“Oh my gosh,” she gushed. “I think I love Tern.”
“Mayor Yurst is recruiting women. Do I need to ply you with brochures?” Geo’s deep laugh warmed my insides.
“Watch what you ask for, you may just get it.” Ginger finished off her container of wine and sank deeper into the warm water. “I plied Geo with brochures for years, hoping he would accept a position. And he finally did, even if it is for just a year.”
Just a year? My heart started to race.
The evening passed in easy conversation between Ginger and Geo. Meanwhile, I was on the edge of my seat, wondering what would happen when Geo’s contract ended. Certainly, Yurst would offer him another. Everyone loved the dwellings he and his team were building.
But would he stay?
For the next three rotations, I woke blissfully content. Geo’s warm body pressed against my back, and my nest smelled of summer fields. My dwelling was filled with a comfort that had been absent my entire life in the High Hold of Tuniga. Geo prepared coffee from Earth each morning and delivered a warm mug to me where I lingered in my furs. His attention was addictive, but when the caffeine hit, so did the revelation that Geo might leave Tern. Every time it was like a fresh jolt shocking my nervous system.
The morning of the market, the sun shone bright and clear. The mist from our breath crystalized in the cold air, and white clouds formed while we piled my hoverbike trailer high with furs.
“One minute.” Ginger reached to grab a hat and mittens from the top. “I’m keeping these.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and pulled the hat over her head. Its white fur contrasted sharply with her black bangs.
My wristport dinged. Incoming vid com: High Regent Tuniga.
Geo grabbed a hat and tightened the flaps around my ears, leaning forward to kiss my nose.
My cheeks bunched so tightthey hurt.
“Blant, it’s my father.” My voice trembled, and Geo reached for my mittened hand. Why would my father be contacting me? He had not even bid me farewell when I left Lorne, emphasizing how little my departure would mean to him or my mother.
With a swipe of my finger, I picked up the com. My tail frantically beat the snow around me. Was Bonic okay? And Jast? Oh, bless the goddess Sola—was it the youngling? “Father?”
My father’s angular jaw had just started to purple with age, but he could not be mistaken for anything but royalty. With his face projected in the air, he held his chin high and his eyes pierced me with expectation. His thin lips were pressed into a straight line, sealing in his unvoiced words. Nothing new. He was always stoic.
Ginger sucked in a breath, awed as she and Geo glimpsed the projection of my father. For some reason, he wore his official crown, and the formal high collar embroidered with a giant ringa—a beast from Lornian folklore—screamed business. I stepped to the side, concealing them from my father’s view.
