Page 30 of Until the Stars Fall

He looked pleased with himself. “You’re welcome.”

Of course that’d been him. I settled on the quilt across from him and swept my hair back up in a ponytail. “Did you make me lunch?”

“Yes ma’am.” He sat a sandwich on a plate and handed it to me, keeping it out of the way of Oby’s interested pink nose. “I even have these chips I made last week,” he said, handing me a pouch. “But the pi?ce de résistance”—he pulled out a drinking glass and dropped some ice cubes into it before handing it to me—“is this.” He pulled a soda can from the basket. “One of the precious few Diet Coke cans on this ship.”

I took in an excited breath, glorying in the snap of the tab, unlike any other sound, the fizz in the air, the bubbles rushing up as he poured it into my cup. I hadn’t had any since I was on the Tube from San Francisco.

“How did I rate one of these?”

“It’s from my private reserve. I heard you bemoaning the loss of Diet Coke this morning at breakfast, so I figured you deserved one.”

He popped a stainless steel straw in my thermos, and I took my first glorious sip: sharp, sweet, delicious.

“Oh my God thank you. I feel like an addict who finally got a hit.”

We exchanged smiles and ate companionably. Did I even need to include Beck into my decision to stay or leave the ship once we got to Gaia? For all I knew, he was planning to take off once we landed. His friendliness toward me could be only because of his friendship with Hannah and Noah. The thought left me cold, but it’d make my staying on the ship less complicated.

“What are your plans when you get to Gaia?” I asked. “You’ve talked about teaching, but that won’t be your whole life.”

He gulped down his last bite of sandwich, took a swig of his own Diet Coke, and lay down on his side across the quilt, his elbow crooked to support his head. “I’ve got a teaching gig already lined up at the university near my folks. I’ve gotta finish out my anthropology degree too. I figure I’ll build me a house on the land my folks set aside for me.” He closed his eyes and grinned, lying on his back and turning his face to the sun. “Settle down with a smart, beautiful, dark-haired witch, and spend my days neck deep in kids and kin.”

A conceited rush of hope sparkled through my chest. He lay there with a smug smile, both hands cradling his head, his muscular arms on full display. Since his eyes were closed, I took the liberty of scanning down his body, the muscles in his chest and stomach, belly button exposed and shrouded in dark hair that led down and down. I brazenly stared at the enticingly large bulge just there in his jeans.

He cleared his throat and my eyes snapped to his—still closed, thank God.

I cleared my own throat. “Let me guess, you’ve already divined that she’s dark haired?”

He shrugged and waited a beat. “That’s just my type.”

I took my last bite and wiped my hands on a napkin, wrapping everything up and putting it aside so I’d have a place to stretch out too. “That sounds like a pretty tame existence for a world traveler like yourself.”

“No doubt I want to get around, check out the new planet. But my folks grabbed a rural spot where the sky will still be dark, and that’s where I want to settle. Thinking about nights around a campfire, under the night sky, teaching my kids about the stars. Sounds like heaven to me.”

That plan was a far cry from what I’d imagined for myself in San Francisco. If I’d stayed at Noble Industries and settled down with another engineer, even on the new planet, mine would’ve been a sterile existence of city penthouses, nannies, and upper crust friends whose smiles couldn’t be trusted. Playdates with other mothers and kids who also hadn’t seen the sun in weeks, trying to measure up to a moving target of perfection. But boarding this ship set me on a different trajectory, even though I had no freaking clue where it was heading.

Beck’s plans sounded perfect. Dirty, muddy feet, grass on the kitchen floor, wildflowers in a jar by the sink. Messy little chocolate faces huddled up in blankets by a campfire, their bellies full of smores, listening to Beck tell them about the stars. I sighed. Why was I not surprised to see Beck show up in my reverie?

“What are you smiling about over there?” he asked.

I opened my eyes to find him looking at me. “It sounds lovely, that’s all. I can almost smell the firewood burning.”

He sat up in a rush, sniffing the air and looking around.

I sat up too, alarmed. “What is it?”

He rubbed his beard. “I think I’m still traumatized from our little fire last week.” He stood up. “Come on.” He held his hands out to me, and I let him pull me to my feet.

He took my hands and raised them to my eyes.

“What are you doing?” I pulled my hands away.

“No peeking!” He placed my hands back over my eyes. “Count to ten, then...come find me!” His footsteps retreated and went silent.

I laughed. “Hide and seek? Really?” But I covered my eyes and started to count. “Fine. Whatever. One...two...three…”

At ten, I uncovered my eyes. “Ready or not, here I come!” I couldn’t see him anywhere through the trees.

“Where are you?” I called, walking around, feeling foolish. I went into the little shed by the garden, but he wasn’t hiding there among the shovels and rakes. He wasn’t behind the little hillock that the waterfall came down from, or behind the tumbled rock retaining wall that held it together. The trunks of the old trees were wide enough for a man to hide behind. They must’ve grown wild for years before the coven took the ship over and pruned everything down to a manageable level. It must’ve taken a ton of work just to get this one room cleaned up. Sometimes I didn’t give them enough credit.

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