Page 6 of Paradise

They stopped kissing and looked down. Cody was rubbing his face against Jonah’s thigh, his sleep-crusted eyes slowly opening. “Garrett?”

Ooo-kay. That put a damper on the kissing side of things. “Hey, Cody.”

“You’re back!” Thin arms wound around his neck and gripped way too tightly for such a small kid, and Garrett pulled Cody up against his chest and kissed his hair. “I was worried about you.”

“I’m sorry you were worried. I came back as fast as I could.”

Cody pulled back a little and frowned. “You’re all wet.”

“I know. We got stuck out there for a while because of the storm, but it wasn’t too bad.”

“You missed dinner. Daddy made mac and cheese.”

“Really?” Garrett glanced over at Jonah. “I’ll have to ask him to make it again.”

“There’s enough left for you,” Cody assured him. “Daddy didn’t eat much.”

“Aww, because he was pining?” Garrett asked with a grin. Cody looked puzzled. “Never mind, I’m just tired. You ready for bed, Cody?”

“Will you tuck me in?”

“Sure,” Garrett said. He stood up and lifted Cody into his arms with only a little wobble. “I can do that.” He and Jonah shared a smile. “I can do that.”

He could do it for as long as they needed.

Chapter four

Garrett

All right, so the circumstances that had led Garrett to propose to Jonah were somewhat irregular, and yes, his reputation of decades as a cavalier playboy was now ruined. But this kind of reaction was just excessive.

“It’s not that funny, damn it.”

“It is!” Wyl howled, doubled over until just the top of his head could be seen on the holoscreen. “No, it really is, itis! You, all wet and smelly, like a drowned catterpet, and him, all worried, and you just up and … like, out of the black, you … you spring a proposal on him …fuck!” He kept laughing, loudly, one hand beating on the table he was leaning on, and Garrett had finally had enough.

“Call me back when you’re done, you freak.” He shut off the call and glared at the screen for a few moments before getting up and mixing a drink. It was frothy and purple and not the sort of thing he usually went for outside of very pretentious parties, but it was sweet and alcoholic, and the chemical reaction in itsparked tiny lightning bolts against the glass. It was the sort of cocktail you drank to cheer yourself up, and that was what Garrett needed right now. He stuck a slice of lemon in it and took a sip. Not bad.

The chime of the com sounded, but Garrett ignored it in favor of savoring his drink. It wasn’t Jonah or Cody, and he wasn’t worried about offending anyone else. The news of his proposal had prompted some smiles and a little teasing here on Pandora, but for the most part, everyone seemed excited for them. There were far more couples and families than single colonists living in the colony, and most of them were married, not just contracted or partnered. Apparently, when life was abnormally short, people tended to take commitments more seriously.

Not that life would be short for Garrett and Jonah. Both of them were fully capable of using Regen, and if they were lucky, they’d have each other for many, many years. The only member of their small family that couldn’t use Regen was Cody, and he was still just a child. He had his whole life to live, and who knew how long that might be? Secondary treatments were getting better; Cody might live to be a hundred. He might live even longer. He might …

The chime kept ringing. Garrett rolled his eyes and put the empty glass in the autoclave, then went back to the couch and sat down. He turned on the screen, expecting to see a repentant Wyl.

Instead, he saw Jezria Dowd, the administrative chief of Pandora City and the woman who had originally hired Garrett to come and work here. He put on his professional face. “Jezria.”

“Garrett. I was wondering if I’d have to send city security over to check on you. You always answer your com.”

“I was busy.” He plowed ahead before she could ask what he’d been busy with. Jezria was an old family friend, and she thought that just because she’d first met him as a toddler, she had theright to ask about his personal life. Which she kind of did, but now wasn’t the time. “Are you approving my request for time off?”

“In part.”

He frowned at her. “What do you mean, in part? Which part? Why not all of it?”

“Garrett, you’re asking for three standard months’ worth of leave. That’s a long time for the colony to be without its forecaster, not to mention one of its most versatile pilots.”

“I am not aforecaster,” Garrett interrupted with a groan. He was an expert in climate modeling and long-term climate prediction, not local weather forecasts, but somehow his responsibilities had morphed into taking on the task of short-term weather prediction as well. Still, he hated the term. “Weatherman implies some smarmy piece of meat hamming it up for the vacant masses. I’m a scientist, not a soothsayer.”

“Regardless,” Jezria continued smoothly, “it’s a long time to be gone. I’ll approve two months.”

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