A stove and oven that looked of Tuann origin was surrounded by beautiful cabinets; the likes of which Kira had never seen on a ship. Made from a weathered wood, the kitchen looked like something that belonged in a cozy cottage.
A table took up the middle of the room. Far larger than her original and built to accommodate a decent sized group of people.
Kira suspected an artisan had crafted that table. It was too beautiful to be something that was mass produced.
The entire kitchen was far grander than a ship like the Wanderer deserved. Hell, it was nicer than many kitchens she’d been in on most planets.
“Oh good. You’re finally here. What do you think?” a voice asked from behind her.
Kira looked over her shoulder to find a Tuann giving her a wide, friendly smile that begged for praise. Raider lurked in the hallway beyond him, a hand raised, not quite covering the snicker she could see forming.
Kira glared at her friend. “Weren’t you the one who told me to bring you a coffee?”
“I figured this would be faster.”
Yeah, sure he did. It had nothing to do with witnessing first hand her reaction.
Kira’s gaze shifted to the Tuann who was soon to be renamed as the bane of her existence. Maksym was considered short by Tuann standards, though still taller than Kira and Raider. What he lacked in height he made up for in the width and breadth of his shoulders.
His orange hair stuck up in tufts, making him seem almost harmless. Charming even. Like a giant puppy bouncing around for attention.
Kira knew better. This was the same person who’d subjected her to marathon long training sessions where he basically pounded her into the ground while never once losing his smile.
“Marvelous, isn’t it?” Maksym nodded at the redone kitchen.
“That’s not how I would phrase it.”
There were certain things you never touched on a ship that wasn’t yours. The armory was foremost among them. Let alone relocate rooms.
Maksym slunk close, wrapping Kira in a bear hug before she could dodge. For such a muscular man, he was quick on his feet. Maksym rubbed his cheek against the top of Kira’s head. “Grump Grump. Don’t be so dour. You know your closet couldn’t continue to accommodate everyone. This was the best solution.”
Kira squirmed, trying to break free of his grip. She slapped at his hands and arms. When that didn’t work, she aimed a kick at the side of his knee.
Maksym turned with the blow, never once losing that annoyingly amiable smile.
Sick of that expression, Kira planted a hand on the side of his face and shoved.
“How many times have I told you not to call me Grump Grump? It’s Kira. Phoenix on occasion. Nix or Nixxy, if you’re dear to me.”
Which at the moment, Maksym was not.
Raider skirted past them in the hallway, entering the kitchen. “Don’t forget Nixxy Poo.”
Kira pointed at Maksym in warning. “No. Don’t ever call me that. I hate that name.”
Enough to stab the next person who used it. Over and over again.
Maybe, then finally, people would get it through their heads how bad of an idea it was to use it.
Maksym allowed Kira enough room to wiggle out of his hold. “But Grump Grump, your name is appropriate since you are so very grumpy.”
Raider looked over his shoulder as he started his coffee. “He has a point.”
“Shut it,” Kira snapped back. To Maksym, “Put my kitchen back the way you found it.”
Maksym rubbed his square jaw. “I’m disappointed you don’t like my present but if that’s how you feel, I can return it to the dreary state I found it in.”
“Great.”
