Page 91 of Lorran
Wyn wanted to hide her face because yes, they had that conversation and yes, her expectations were unreasonably high. Only Lorran exceeded her wildest imagination when it came to devotion and being cherished. It was all the other stuff that came with being married to an alien warrior sworn to defend the galaxy.
“I guess I never really thought about what it’s like to be with a soldier. He’s always on duty. There’s no down time. It’s a dangerous job.” And Mahdfel life expectancies were short. If a warrior was lucky enough to live to old age, he’d live for nearly two hundred years—the internet told her that—but one bad shot could take him from her. When the Suhlik attacked the base, it drove home that fact.
There was knowing something in abstract and thenknowingwith a blaster pointed in your direction.
Wyn forced a smile on her face. She didn’t call her mother to cry about how much the stress ate away at her. Focus on the positive.
“He’s got a good sense of humor. We’ve been staying,” Wyn searched for a way to massage the truth without explicitly lying to her mother, “on a remote planet. Exclusive. Hardly anyone there. We went hunting, believe it or not, and skating. I’ve even started painting again. And I just really like him, Mom. God, I sound so cheesy.”
Alana’s expression softened. “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” she said, even though she did it herself frequently. “And there’s nothing wrong with being fond of the person you’re married to. It’s recommended, even. Are you back from your honeymoon? Is that your new home? Scooch to the side. You’re blocking my view.”
“We’re in a hotel. We haven’t made it back to his ship yet. I wanted to call you as soon as I could.” Her mother nodded, as if she expected nothing else.
Alana filled Wyn in on the latest family news. Her father had to cut his cholesterol, and apparently eating fish two times a week was more than he could tolerate. The stories and jokes flowed easy. and a yearning for home ached in her chest. She hadn’t lived with her parents since she was nineteen, but she had never been far away from them. They had lunch every Sunday, often with Sonia. Oscar had been a silent participant for years and her parents politely tolerated him, but they hugged and kissed Sonia like their own daughter. Wyn needed to call Sonia too.
“And call Sonia,” Alana said, as if she could read Wyn’s mind. “She’s going on about defying the patriarchy by making art. I mean, that’s not unusual. She’s always going on about the media shaping body image and whatnot, but she’s all on her own now. I’m worried about her.”
Wyn smiled, knowing that Sonia at least listened to her words about making art. “I gave her half of my alien money, to cover my portion of the rent.”
Alana whistled. “That’s a lot of rent.”
“Well, I told her to quit her job and make me some art. I’ll call her as soon as I can,” Wyn said, just as a chime at the door signaled that dinner had arrived. She signed off with her mother, promising to call when she got to the ship.
“You like me,” Lorran said, setting their meal down on the small table. Apparently, he had showered while eavesdropping, as the towel around his waist attested.
“Stop smiling like that.”
“Like what? A male whose mate likes him?” He angled his hips, the light just doing something to the V-cut on his hips, something that made her stutter and forget what they were talking about. The tattoos on his arms glowed a cool silver.
Fang flashed against his lavender complexion. He pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her waist.
Wyn snuggled in, enjoying the fresh, clean scent of generic hotel soap and bare skin. Especially the skin part. The way he held her made her feel delicate, an unusual sensation for a six-foot-tall woman. Delicate and precious.
“You know I love you,” she said, meaning every word. Maybe they hadn’t gotten off to the best start and their experiences together were either sitting in a mildewy room or running for their lives. From one extreme to another, from boredom to panic, they worked well together. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather go to a haunted amusement park with.”
“That is an extremely specific quality you demand in a mate. It makes me question your motives.” His voice was warm and soft and did things to her.
“Dinner’s getting cold,” she said.
“I’m not hungry for dinner.”
Wyn wiggled, which somehow pressed her chest closer to him. He did that low growl, and yeah, it did happy squirmy things to her.
Oh hell. It looked like dinner was going to get cold.
Chapter 19
Wyn
The next morning drove home that this wasn’t a vacation. Mylomon arrived at the door with Mikah, who hid behind the larger man.
“I must deal with the one in the brig,” he said. “This one should stay with his mother.”
“Lorran’s in the shower, but he’ll be out in a minute. Coffee?” She’d tried to brew herself a cup with the room’s machine, but that hardly seemed appropriate for a kid. There wasn’t much else she had to offer. “Juice?”
Mikah peeked his head around Mylomon. “I like juice.”
“Coming right up.” The room had a tiny cooling unit stocked with expensive bottled beverages and snacks. She held up two bottles, one blue and the other green. Mikah took the green.
