Turning away, Cait looked out over the heat-blasted dock and ran some very fast numbers. Two days meant missing her launch window, and missing the window meant the penalty clause kicked in. If that happened, the numbers would go red in a way that would wipe out any profit margin from this run.
Well, fuc-fudge.
Right, she needed a change of plan, so she ran through the contingencies in her head. Could she patch the line? No, that wouldn’t work. All the repair kits that she had were for wear or for a line that had been torn, not clean sliced like that. And she couldn’t take off with the hydraulic damaged. That was a fast way to spread herself across the landing pad and become someone else’s recovery problem.
“Bad news?”
Oh fudge. She’d almost forgotten the alien hottie.
She turned. He’d moved to lean against Barker’s hull like he paid docking fees on it, arms folded over his chest, and his ankles crossed. She’d never seen a manspread while standing. It would have been impressive if she wasn’t so pissed off at the moment.
The problem was he wasn’t watching the ships or anything sensible.
He was watching her.
“Logistics,” she said with a shrug. “Nothing you’d understand.”
“I’m a quick learner.”
Pushing off the hull, he moved toward her. Silently, like a predator circling her. A guy that size should make some sound, surely? Physics should have insisted on it. “What if I can get it?”
She went still and looked him over properly. Heavy boots, worn in. Dark cargo pants. His shirt was open to the waist, giving her a good look at a stomach that was all hard, stacked muscle.
He let her look.
“You know where to source a hydraulic cylinder for a Wren-class on a penal colony?” she said, keeping her voice light, “because unless you’ve got illegal salvage stashed somewhere real creative, that seems unlikely.”
“I might.”
“That’s not a yes.”
“It’s not a no either.”
The easy charm dropped off his face completely and what replaced it had an edge to it, sharper and more considered. “How about a bet?”
Do not engage with this being. Fred’s response was immediate. I am updating the threat assessment.
She ignored him. “Bets have stakes. What do I get when you lose?”
Something moved in the alien’s eyes. “If I can’t deliver the part by sundown tomorrow, I cover your penalty clause. Full lost revenue for the missed window.”
Everything in her went very quiet.
“And if you win?”
He stepped closer, a different kind of heat from the sun rolling off him. Her chin came up.
“A kiss.”
Oh, for the love of?—
No, Cait, Fred said, his voice appalled. Unauthorized biological interface. We have no data on where that mouth has been.
Shut up, Fred.
She stared at him.
That was it. A kiss. One kiss, a few seconds, and then she could get on with her day. It was a very small price against a penalty clause that would bleed her dry. But, it was also obviously a trap, and she was going to do it anyway because the penalty clause would kill her and she was not sitting on hot slabcrete for two days waiting for someone else to fix her life.
