“That’s why it’s always lighted through the ventilation system, even though it’s a power drain,” I added.
“Those vertical shafts are dangerous,” he insisted.
“Everyone knows not to take a tunnel if it smells like rose. Even a two-year-old would have avoided it.”
Shade hmphed. “I’ve never smelled a rose.”
“Well, sniff, learn it, and steer clear,” I said.
Shade inhaled through his nose. “Subtle. I’d hardly noticed it before. Smells good.”
I nodded. It did. “There’s a scent diffuser on the giant turbine ready to cut you to shreds.”
Cautiously, Shade lightly brushed a hand down my arm. “Thanks, starshine.”
I nodded, warmth licking through my belly.
“What are you wearing?” he asked, his brow creasing as he plucked at my shirt.
“Surral’s scrubs. She had to cut off my spacewalk undersuit to get at the bullet wound.”
Shade’s hand stopped moving on my arm. He stared at me. “You’re scaring the shit out of me right now. When did you get shot?”
“On the Squirrel Tree. Big man? Gun? Remember?”
“I remember,” he muttered. “I just didn’t know you got hit.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“So you decided to go on a spacewalk?”
“Well, someone had to get all those bugs off my ship before we left Sector 2.” I didn’t bother to curb the bite in my voice.
Shade had the decency to look guilty. “How many were there?” he asked.
“I found three.”
“Only one was mine.”
“Then it’s a good thing I dumped them,” I said.
“Did they track you?”
I nodded.
“But you got away?”
“Clearly.” I was here, wasn’t I?
“Do I want to hear about this?” he asked, sounding wary.
“Probably not.” But it warmed me that he cared.
“I’ll ask later.” Shade’s hand swept up my arm again and over my pink shoulder, the tips of his fingers teasing my neck. “Right now, I’m just glad you’re okay. And you look good enough to eat.”
I grimaced. “I look like candy.”
He smiled. “Like I said, good enough to eat.”
