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“Garix?” Izzy poked her head through the office door. “I’m heading over to chat with Papa. Shop’s closed. Wanna stay or come with?”
Garix deactivated the glowing keys shining on his arm and rose. Pink drops of ice cream had hardened on his uniform. She smiled. She should feel guilty for doing that to him, but these men...males had to learn to live a little. He was tons less a stick-up-the-ass now than when she’d first met him.
Slipping inside the cool interior of the diner, she waved at the waiter behind the counter. “Papa?”
Following the pointed finger, she rapped on the No-Entry door and waited. All gazes stuck to Garix like flies to shit, the poor guy. Her chat with Papa wouldn’t be long, then she could whisk Garix away for something delicious. Slicing a glance at her gigantic friend, she chuckled as she rocked on her toes. He sniffed the air like a bloodhound.
“Get us a table.” She pictured mountains of barbecued ribs squeezing her into the corner of a booth, Garix’s cheeks smeared and his fingers sticky. “We’ll eat here tonight.”
He beamed and chose the closest booth.
She pounded on the door again. “Listen, Papa, I don’t have all day, and you’re going to want to hear me out.” She huffed. “I’m aging here.”
“Patience, Izzy.” Papa opened the door. His ponderous belly swayed him when he slipped behind his desk.
“You still interested in the Cheery Cherry?”
He stilled and blessed her with wide, hopeful eyes. “Sure thing.”
She hitched a thumb in the direction of her shop. “Make me an offer.”
He rattled off a number, more than she’d expected. Without giving herself time to doubt her decision, she held out her wrist for payment. Once the receipt of funds was confirmed, she transferred the deed.
“Done. Want my ice cream stock?”
He shook his head, his grin conquering his cherubic face.
“All right, I’ll make a plan with those. Garix and I’ll be having dinner here at Papa and Milly’s. I’ll clear out my things afterward and leave the keys on the counter.”
“On the house. I insist, Izzy.”
She laughed. “You’ll regret that. Garix eats enough for five men.”
Papa rose on his toes to peek at Garix and grimaced, shaking the metal toothpick clamped between his lips. “Fine. Half price.”
With that done, she weaved across the restaurant to where Garix waited. She slid into the booth and swiped the menu, even though she planned on ordering the usual. “Don’t choose something with more than two patties. Makes eating it a nightmare.” Though, with his massive hands, he might manage it.
“What did you just do, Izzy?”
She smiled over the top of the menu, then lowered it. “I sold my shop.”
He gaped. “Why?”
“If I choose to go with Caro after Malo rescues her or I find my Eth, I won’t need my shop.”
“It is logical.” Garix tapped the flattened menu. “What do you recommend?”
She winked at him. “Anything with bacon on it.”
“I love bacon.”
“I know. Listen, Garix. I have tubs of ice cream to remove from the shop, do you think we could share it with your men?”
“Males. And yes. They would appreciate the flavors. Many have yet to taste Earthian food.”
“Human food. But how do we get it there, Garix? And please don’t say zapping.” She shivered. The ice-cold tingles of dematerializing slammed across her mind as she struggled to understand how it could separate her particles from Garix’s. She couldn’t shake the thought that he had parts of her in him, and she had parts of him in her, even if only on a molecular level.
“A shuttle.”
She pressed a hand to her chest, as if that would still her pounding heartbeat, and blinked away the tears. The last time she’d been on his battleship was after Caro’s disappearance days ago. Despite Malo roaring like a wounded animal, then becoming a wall of stone, he’d still tasked Medic Brynr to scan Izzy. Biting a shark was supposedly dangerous. She suppressed a gag. It was vile, that’s what it was. She gulped the chilled water the waiter placed on the table.
“Any news—”
“None.” Garix didn’t look up from the menu. “Malo’s pushing the scimitar’s engines to their limits. And, according to Data Officer Tias, Malo’s also called in all favors owed to him.”
She blinked at Garix. What did that even mean? What favors? And who was Tias? She opened her mouth to ask, but Garix rattled off a five-burger order to the gaping waiter. She tried not to giggle. After Garix included chocolate brownies for dessert, she ordered a plate of fries and a chocolate milkshake with the promise of thinking about joining him for the brownies.
When they were alone, she clasped her hands and arched a brow at Garix. “And Tias is?”
“A data officer tracks, interrogates, and sifts through data. Any ship in the vicinity, any chatter on the navigational systems and buzz feeds, anything regarding Caro will be communicated to Malo.” Garix studied her hands and mimicked her stance, even though his shoulders remained stiff, his back ramrod straight.
“You mentioned favors.” She sighed. Getting information from him was like pulling teeth.
Garix leaned back, his gaze calculating. “Malo is not an ambassador but someone with...other skills.”
She frowned. “Like a stripper? Or a mechanic?”
Garix’s eyelids fluttered. He grimaced. “Operations Commander Malo et Dalo is trained to gather...information from those who do not wish to share.”
“Oh,” she gasped. As in a spy? She rolled her top lip over the bottom. “Well, then, I guess his ‘other’ skills are better for finding Caro.”
Garix said no more, so Izzy did the same, even though she wanted to know if Garix was a spy too. Instead, she rushed off a text to Miri.
Listen, babe, sold my shop. Will explain later.
Miri’s response was quick. Why?
Izzy grinned. Why what? Selling or explaining?
Izzy.
Imagining Miri’s pointed glare, Izzy giggled. Time for a change, M.
As long as you thought it through. What does Simmy think?
Izzy frowned. Why should Simmy’s opinion matter? As far as Izzy knew, her sister’s art had made her wealthy. On top of this, their parents had taken care of her future. The inheritance had been unbalanced, but that made sense. Simmy couldn’t work. And what monies Izzy had received had gone into the Cheery Cherry.
I haven’t told her. Exhaustion slumped her shoulders, and she sagged in her seat.
Good, Miri said. It’s about time you thought of yourself first.
Izzy blinked back a tear. Aw, thanks, honey bunch.
She was halfway through the fries saturated in salt when an image of her face flashed on the TV above the counter. When Thomas Tenet’s smug smile conquered the screen, the last bite soured in her mouth.
“Oh, jam and buttered toast.” Shoving the plate aside, she rested her temple on the table and cursed, using foul words Caro had forbidden.
“What is it?” Garix leaped off the chair and spun, his body stiff as if he prepared for battle, brandishing a ketchup-laden fry as if it were a sword.
“I’m on the news.” She gestured to the TV. Her face flushed, and had Tenet appeared beside her, she would have punched him in the balls.
‘I bit the alien ass’ flashed in bold red. Right there was her legacy, her five minutes of fame. Her parents would be so proud.
“Just finish eating, Garix. Chill. There’s nothing you can do that will ease my mortification. Oh, the abject burn of it.” She threw her arms over her head.
“It’ll be forgotten by tomorrow, Izzy.” Papa patted her on the shoulder. “Here, as a parting gift.”
The rich aroma of chocolaty gooeyness with a hint of snow snapped her gaze up. She beamed like a long-lost lover at a large piece of brownie. “Ah, Papa, thank you.” She flicked a tear aside and squeezed his hand. Color stained his cheeks before he hurried away.
Garix grinned, eyeing her dessert like a salivating Cerberus. When he reached for it, she smacked his hand.
“You’re getting your own. This one’s mine.” She always shared with him, and his gaping mouth slithered guilt—her familiar dark friend—into her chest, cinching her until air was scarce. She sucked in a deep breath. “Fine, but you’re sharing yours.”
With his untouched fork, he dived into the brownie, even scooping ice cream. His moans and rumbles softened her resolve, and she smiled at him like a proud mama. He loved his food, and she couldn’t castigate him for it. As tall as she was small, they shared the insecurities that went with their sizes. It explained why they’d clicked, why she considered him a close friend in so short a time.
“It won’t take long to pack. So, when you’re done, you summon, call, order—whatever term you use—a shuttle.”
He licked his fork before biting into his fourth burger. Two empty milkshake glasses sat to the side, and as she waited for him to finish eating, she slurped hers, content to watch him.
“How long do you think you’ll guard me?”
He stilled in mid-chew. A frown knitted his brow. “I choose to stay with you, Izzy. It is honorable to protect you.”
“I’m not questioning your honor or motives, teddy bear, just want to know if we should upgrade the shower.”
“You do not like porting, I know. But, Izzy, your Earth water is harsh on my hair.”
She blinked, the gurgle of laughter bubbling up meant she was about to hurt his feelings. Dipping her chin to her chest, she took great gulps of air to swallow the giggles. “Your...hair?”
“Laugh if you must, ensa, but this night, you shall use my cleansing room and see for yourself.”
She huffed. “I’ll take your word for it.” When he narrowed his gorgeous blue eyes on her, she muttered, “Fine.”
As soon as the waiter slid another brownie onto the table, Garix shoved his half-eaten fifth burger aside and tore into the sugary goodness. Where he put it, she’d stopped wondering, believing that his species had mastered black holes, and Garix now carried one inside his stomach.
Her phone rang with Simmy’s ringtone. Angling her butt, she tugged it out of her back pocket and pressed it to her ear. “Hey, sis.”
“Mind telling me why I have journalists pounding on my door, Izabelle Reeves?”
Ice chilled Izzy’s spine, and a knot formed in her stomach. A wave of nausea followed, and she pinned a fist to her chest, trying to hold back the urge to throw up.
“What?” she squeaked, sitting up straight.
“I’m not letting them in, of course. Still, I’m trying to finish the order for the gallery. I can’t concentrate.” Simmy sighed. Izzy couldn’t help but picture her sister pinching her brow. “I’ll head to the basement, but you sort this shit out, you hear me, Izzy.”
Wincing, she hurried to answer. “I’m on it.”
After Simmy hung up, Garix waited for Izzy to speak, calmly licking his spoon with his gaze on her.
“How do I fix this, Garix?” She tossed the phone on the seat beside her and dropped her face into her hands.
“We could port her to the Gladio.”
“No.” She pressed the heel of her palms into her eyes, willing the tears to stay away. “No, that won’t work. She’s a sculptor, and moving her from her studio never goes well.” A whimper slipped past her defenses. She clenched her jaw and leaned her head against the backrest.
“We will discuss this with Sub-Commander Vorn. He could task a few males to guard her home.”
Warmth swept through her, and she lunged across the table to kiss his cheek. “You’re the best, Garix. Now, let’s pay and get those tubs of ice cream to your needy males.”
“Needy?” He frowned.
She patted his arm before he slipped from the booth. “As in starving for some sweetness.”
“Fair enough, ensa.”
While she paid the bill, she bounced on her toes and swung her ass to a mental tune. Music was forbidden, so what played in the restaurant’s speakers were ambient sounds. The wild calls amid the cacophony of a jungle wasn’t something she could dance to.
After a tearful hug farewell, with Papa doing the crying, Izzy packed her office while Garix commed the Gladio.
“Trav and Eriz are en route.”
She grinned, wiping her nose on her sleeve before clearing the computer’s search history. Digging out a pen from the back of the drawer, she wrote the password on a paper napkin and draped it across the touchpad keyboard embedded in the steel desk. “I don’t have personal things in the office, but I thought I should check. So, it’s just the ice cream.”
Looping around to the back, she slipped on a hairnet for the last time and dived into the walk-in freezer to load boxes of ice cream onto a trolley. With Garix’s help, it didn’t take long to stack them in the front. The tubs in the display had to have their lids in order to travel. She made swift work of adding those to the growing mountain of ice cream.
“Izzy, this is Operative Eriz.” Garix gestured to a male who rounded the corner of her shop, coming from the incinerator.
“Hi.” She waved and studied him, looking for a weakness in his knees.
He ran his gaze over her, then gathered the first few boxes.
Right, not my Eth either. Sighing, she tried to take a tub or two, but Garix nudged her toward the shop.
“I hate it when you’re so bossy,” she grumbled, but she wandered the shop, making sure she’d done all she could think of. No cash meant no tallying after a day’s sales. Peeling off the hairnet, she tossed it into the waste bin, draped the apron over the counter, and left the keys on top of it.
Garix waited for her outside, saying nothing when she closed the glass doors. The darkness inside the shop taunted her, adding doubts to her chaotic thoughts. Her future wasn’t certain, and she had to be prepared to act at a moment’s notice. Best to end things smoothly, rather than let her ice cream go to waste.
With his hand on her back, Garix ushered her to the shuttle. The dark-gray metal shimmered, painted silver by the moonlight. It hovered too high off the ground. He gripped her waist and lifted her before she could swat at his hands.
“Damn grizzly, bossy, and a manhandler.” She glared at him.
He blessed her with an unrepentant smile. “Operative Trav, this is my Izzy.”
The male at the console nodded but said nothing as he flew his fingers over the glowing keys. Garix tugged her to a seat and strapped her in when the doors closed, sealing off the compartment. Her boxes had been placed in a smaller storage area, separated from them by a thin metallic mesh wall.
Dark stars filled the massive display screens to the front of the shuttle, and after a slight jarring when they breached the atmosphere, a massive black shape formed in the center. Parts of it glimmered as the shuttle had, but it sat there like a void.
“Gladio?” she asked, despite knowing. Porting removed the wonder of traveling through space to a battleship. “It’s beautiful.”
She couldn’t judge the size from this distance, but as they approached, she realized they headed for an opening the size of her pinky nail. By then, the void engulfed the screens, sending her senses into a panic. If it wasn’t for the hum of the shuttle’s engines, she might have lost her mind.
Trav spun and reversed into a bay. As he touched down, the massive doors closed, cutting off with dull, gray metal the beauty of space. The shuttle door swished open, and males boarded, unpacking while sneaking glances at her.
She patted her hair, the mass of it falling across her shoulders. Accepting that she looked a fright with nothing she could do about it, she trailed Garix. He helped her down, and in his beautiful language, barked instructions.
When another male growled at them, Garix pushed her behind his back, shielding her. She peeked around his torso, assessing the glowering male whose tone dripped with fury. His chiseled jawline, those dark blue eyes, and the way his nostrils flared had her sighing like a woman offered too many chocolates. Leaning her back against Garix’s, she scanned the bay, smiling at the males rushing around. They were all gorgeous and sexy like they were bred for human women. Tall, broad-shouldered, and in military black, their braided hair whipped around as they worked. Granny’s nipples, she should open an ice cream parlor right there. The view was spectacular.
“Izzy?” Garix’s voice intruded, and she hummed a response. “You scent aroused.”
Males paused in mid-stride, under the weight of crates, with tools in their hands to...sniff her. Heat exploded in her stomach, burning upward to scald her cheeks.
“Sorry.” She ducked her head into the curve of Garix’s back.
“Shall we?” Chuckling at her, he led her from the bay, along passages lined in gray metal with grated flooring and dim lighting. She lost track of direction, with nothing but walls to guide her.
He paused outside a door. “Females are not allowed in the barracks. Pilot Vyar has assigned an officer quarters to you for the duration of your stay.”
Placing his palm to the panel beside the door swished it open into a well-designed space. White organic-looking chairs dominated the endless gray. To the right was another door in the wall, to the rear was a small counter with two black glass surfaces embedded in it, and to the left, another door. She stumbled across the threshold when Garix nudged her.
“Is it to your liking, ensa?”
“It’s... gray.” She winced. “And clean.”
Laughing, he barked in his language, and the walls shimmered to pink.
“Oh.” She skipped across the room to touch the closest wall. “Make it blue, purple, no, green.”
“Later. Come, Izzy.”
When he approached the door to the right, it opened into a bathroom the size of her bedroom—a massive shower sat in the corner, and two buttons were on the wall.
“The spray will begin when you step under it and at a few degrees hotter than your core. The water contains all you need. It will soap and wash your hair, and if you gargle with it, your teeth as well.”
“Wow,” she whispered, raising wide eyes to his.
“Press the blue button to dry and the gray button for a toweling wrap.” He abandoned her with the door closing behind him. “Want a coffee?”
“Please,” she bellowed through the walls while eyeing the glassless cubicle. Right. Shower. How hard could it be?
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