Page 69 of Tail, Dark and Handsome: Celestial Mates
Chasing after Winter, she began to question hers. “My pay? I’ll be on my way.” She had a credit lender to appease, after all.
Winter spun on his heel. His tail lashed out violently behind him. “No.”
“Um, yes.” Totally questioning her sense of self-preservation.
“I refuse to let you go that easily. The job was to deliver me to my home, not leave me and my kit stranded at the first convenient place to land,” he said, then climbed into the passenger seat of the vehicle.
Mari shook her hands to work out her nervous energy, chalking her racing heart up to Winter’s menacing, possessive display, not that he said he refused to let her go.
Winter
Marigold sat awkwardly in the vehicle’s driver’s seat. After inputting the destination into the nav unit, she adjusted the mirrors, the position of the seat, the safety harness, and then the mirrors again.
“I trust you know how to drive a vehicle,” he said, suddenly realizing that he had never seen her drive one before.
“Oh sure, in theory. I’ve done all the virtual training, and everyone knows that’s as good as the real thing with weather conditions and unexpected hazards. You just show up and they give you a license, so how hard can it be? The long, narrow pedal stops, right?”
“Marigold—” He knew what she was doing with her playacting, trying to lift his mood somewhat. He noticed the tension inside the vehicle as Zero sat stiffly in the back, holding his breath.
A bright smile spread across her face, like sunshine after a rainstorm.
During, he corrected himself. A sunshower. Merry and bright. And he felt just as dazzled.
“Yes, I can drive a ground vehicle. I spent a year learning to pilot a ship that flies between the stars. Learning how to point something with four wheels in a single direction and not hit anything was an extra month. I got my hours in, passed the test, and have a license.”
“And you thought this skill would be necessary for your career?” he asked.
The vehicle’s ignition turned over with ease. With a smile, she released the brake, and the vehicle rolled down the ramp into the sunlight. “Seems useful, huh? I’ll tell you what’s useful. That extra license bumped me up a pay grade, so yeah, I did a little extra work.”
Winter’s house—it was difficult to think of it as home as it hadn’t felt like home for so long—lay an hour west of CayneTech’s campus. Long ago, he purchased the property because it was far enough away to discourage his father and cousin from visiting frequently, yet close enough to not prove an inconvenience when necessity dictated that he visit CayneTech. With a driver behind the wheel, Winter could continue to work on a tablet.
Today, he watched the scenery roll by as the industrial area slipped away into rural countryside. The familiar landscape appeared unchanged, yet it felt brighter. He remembered the fields as brittle and parched from drought. The buildings were faded, empty structures with vacant windows.
The contrasts in the shades of gray seemed more vivid, the air sweeter. Seven years since he lost his mate. Six since he left Corra. Much was different but remained the same. With no visible changes, Winter could only assume the changes were within him.
Before they began the return trip to Corra, Winter messaged the estate’s caretakers, a Corravian triad, and informed them of his return.
Estate.He loathed that word. The house was large, yes, but not grand. A century ago, it had once been the heart of a working farm. A collection of outbuildings remained and a local rancher rented use of the land for grazing pasture. Still, the caretakers lived in a cottage. The stables had been converted for modern vehicles and allowed the driver to live in an apartment above.
His workshop was in a practical building with a poured concrete floor and a corrugated metal roof. Simple, as far as research facilities went and could not compare to Chase’s resources, it had been designed exactly the way Winter wished. Most days, he missed his workshop more than his mate.
Zero’s chatter made a running commentary about the landscape and the small towns they passed through. He asked questions about half-remembered people and locations.
The vehicle turned off the main road to a narrow, winding drive. The house hid behind a curve and a cluster of trees. When the house appeared, Zero gasped, “It’s so much smaller than I remember.”
“Smaller? That thing is huge,” Marigold said. “I practically had to share a utility closet with my brother.”
“Your room will be larger than a closet, and you won’t have to share,” Zero replied.
“Yeah, about that,” she started.
“Marigold is our guest. Her room will be adequate,” Winter said. She tossed him a look but said nothing, instead of pressing her lips together. He found amusement in the way she assumed he would allow her to leave.
The drive split. The left circled to the front of the house, and the right went to the back of the building. “Pull around back,” he instructed.
The caretakers waited at the back of the house. Brae, the female, stood between her two mates, Asan and Karil. They appeared younger than he expected, approximately his own age. Winter had never met the triad in person as his father hired them after the accident, though they had conversed several times over a comm unit.
“Mr. Cayne,” Brae said. “Welcome home.”
