With his eyes still closed, he admitted, “Yes.” When he cracked a lid, finding me back on my bed, all covered up like a good girl, he asked, “Dinner tonight?”
Maybe it was the fatigue. Maybe it was the poem. Maybe it was just…him. But I didn’t hesitate to answer, “Yes.”
“Good.” He ran a hand through his hair, like he was trying to make himself presentable again, even though I’d hardly begun to take him apart. “I’ll pick you up.”
Before he clicked off the call, I said, “Wait. Should I wear these socks?”
His sexually frustrated groan was the last sound I heard before I passed out cold.
A wall-shakingbang,bang, bangwrenched me from a blissfully deep and dreamless sleep. Pushing my sleep mask off and tossing it onto the pillow beside me, I rolled off my bed. “I’m coming,” I tried to call out, my voice a scratchy croak as the fist banged again. “Please stop trying to break my door.”
“Oh, sorry,” someone boomed through the battered panel.
I knew that boom. Stumbling across my pod, I hit the door sensor, shielding my eyes from the light pouring in from the hallway as it slid open, revealing— “Garran?” I said, squinting up at him. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Your pink-haired friend told me which pod was yours.Before she ran away.” He grimaced. “I think I frightened her.”
As my eyes adjusted, I looked him over. He was so tall he’d have to duck if he wanted to come inside. So broad he’d have to step through the door sideways. “Well, I suppose you can be a touch intimidating.”
When he looked me over, head to toe, he grinned. “Oh, those socks are very fine. Very warm. They would get you through a full winter on Argos.”
“Thank you,” I said, my cheeks heating for some absurd reason. “They were a gift. What can I do for?—”
“A fine gift,” he interrupted, his grin spreading like a sunrise. “Very thoughtful.”
I had to bite my damn lips between my teeth not to grin myself. “I suppose it was. Do you want to come in?”
“No.” He peered past me into my pod. “I would not fit. Can we talk out here? It will not take long.”
“Of course. How can I help?”
For such a large male, Garran did sheepish modesty better than anyone I had ever met. “Kasa has asked if I would like to go dancing with her, alone, this weekend.”
“Dancing? That’s wonderful.”
“I do enjoy dancing,” he said with a nod. “But I have never been on a date. With a female. On purpose. I do not know what to do.”
There was no point in trying not to grin anymore, so I patted his gigantic arm and said, “Not to worry, big guy. I’ve got you.”
After a briefbut insightful chat with Garran about his dating concerns, I got dressed, then commed Freddie. —I accessed the time—
He responded almost instantly.
The professional response was a relief. I liked knowing we could keep things separate—work and play, business and pleasure. Clear lines drawn in molten lava.
Laughter rang through his voice.
After a brief moment,
I took my own moment. An evening spent hiding behind the scenes, turning Garran into Argos’s most eligible bachelor, could be fun. It could be romantic. But it was also clearly work.
I commed, detecting the hint of disappointment in his tone.
