Page 94 of Phoenix's Last Heist
“Who, me?”
“Obviously you,” he murmurs, leaning in. “And all those romance novels you kept around on theAldrin.”
The mention of my ship sends a whisper of longing through me, and Orion catches it immediately.
“I was going to wait to tell you as a surprise later, but after Brill…well, with the coast relatively clear, Evie sent that Dreller mechanic, Ty, out to Ooneryx to pick it up. She’s taking it back to theHephaestusto finish the repairs he started and it sounds like he’s going to help give it a thorough overhaul. It’ll be ready for us to go grab in a few weeks, and then, who knows? Wasn’t there mention of a sandy beach and a tentacled dreamboat earlier?” he says with a laugh.
My heart stutters and my mouth drops open. “You—you’re having her fix up my ship?”
He blushes at my disbelief, and I’m ready to climb him like a tree.
“Yeah, I know it’s important to you,” he shrugs. “If you have particular opinions about any modifications, we can call her in the morning.”
Like. A. Tree.
“I…Orion. Thank you, really. I…” I trail off, trying not to let my emotions get the better of me.
He grins, flashing dimples that I want to lick right off his face, andstars. The way he looks at me—like I’m the center of his orbit—makes my heart knock around like it’s trying to escape. I clear my throat and glance away, not quite ready to sit in the full heat of it.
“I haven’t really done a lot of this ‘dating’ thing. It’s nice,” I offer awkwardly, oddly nervous.
The look he gives me is sin itself. “Would you be more comfortable if I approached you wearing skintight breeches and a billowy shirt?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.
My cheeks burn redder than theAldrin-136’s afterburners.
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” I grumble.
“I don’t know,” he drawls, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back to eye me speculatively. “Seeing Vega dressed up as a drunk-ass pirate was pretty unforgettable. And the poor guy is back to working in the café, waiting on some new contact to drop in and ruin his life again.”
I chuckle. “Poor guy. Too bad he didn’t let you keep that billowy shirt, though.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you for that. Butperhapsyou could persuade me to forget it.”
“Hmm,” I laugh, tapping my chin. “Iwonderhow I could do that! I don’t suppose you have any suggestions?”
He leans forward, tracing circles on my wrist in a maddeningly erotic way.
“Oh,” he chuckles, and the low sound arrows straight to my clit. “I have plenty of suggestions. They’ll have to wait for after our first dessert, though.”
“First dessert?”
The green fire in his eyes is scorching, and I squeeze my legs together to fight the ache building between my them.
“The gnuberry pie here is some of the best on Xylothia. As to our second dessert…” He licks his lips, and I might actually combust. “We’ll have that a little later.”
Ever the portrait of grace and sophistication, I let out a choking squawk and flag down a waiter faster than Ada saying I-told-you-so.
When we leave, the twin moons are rising over the horizon, and I tuck my arm into his as we walk the quiet stone paths back to his place. His apartment is on the fourth level of a curved habitat structure that spirals like a shell, and inside, it smells like him—moss and rain and something herbal I can’t name.
It’s small but clean, warm with wood tones and stone floors. There’s a pile of half-dismantled weapons on the table, a shelf stuffed with old history books and field journals, and one plush, oversized chair facing the long balcony window.
But what I notice first is the bathroom.
More specifically, the tub.
It’s enormous—sunken into the floor with smooth walls hewn from some sparkling white stone and lit from beneath with a soft amber glow. Steam curls off the surface of water that smells faintly of neralis oil and something sweet.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, turning in a slow circle. “You weren’t kidding.”
