Page 42 of Seduced By the Mermen
She takes my hand in hers and squeezes it. “Together sounds nice.”
It’s been a long time since I’ve held hands with a female. I squeeze her hand back. I don’t want to let go, butif I stay... “I’m going to bring you some tea, if that’s okay?”
“Tea would be lovely,” she says.
“I’ll be right back.” I step into the hallway and pull the door shut behind me.
I’m greeted by a wall of my pod mates.
“Is she okay?” Delmar asks.
“Of course she’s not okay,” Sterling replies.
“Wait, why? You don’t know that,” Delmar retorts.
“Of course I know that. She’s a frail human,” Sterling says.
“There’s nothing frail about her,” Zion counters. “That rotten shrimp shell of a lift is garbage.”
“Agreed,” I say. “I doubt any of us would do as well if we’d lived through what she has. Taken into a new society. No, she’s got a long way to go. It’s a lot, mentally and physically straining. But I can see her waking up.” I scan the group, stopping on Sterling. He shakes his head, pivots, and thuds down the hall to his study.
“He’s going to be a problem,” Forrest says.
Delmar crosses his arms over his chest. “He’s always the problem.”
“Come on, I promised her some tea, and you all can help.”
“All of us?” Alexei says. “How many people does it take to make a cup of tea?”
“Apparently six,” Delmar says.
“Five will do. I’m staying here.” Alexei retrieves a chair from the bedroom across the hall.
“Four,” Clark says and gets a chair too.
“Three.” Zion drops into a squat.
“Two,” Forrest says but turns the other way. “I’ve got documents to go over. Message me if she so much as sneezes.” He points to Clark, who nods.
The kitchen’s dark. Someone had the foresight to send the staff home early before we brought Blair back to our apartment. Forrest, most likely.
“I figured I should help since I sent Rodgers home,” says Delmar, “but he’ll be back later to make a light dinner.”
“You did? Good thinking.”
Delmar turns back to me, getting the kettle on. Our kitchen is older, but I like it. Apple green tiles line the far wall, and while most everything in our dome is steel, there are rows of copper pots lining the wall—from someone’s grandmother. But it gives a glow to the room in low light, creating a warm space.
Delmar reaches for a tray and cups without looking while I open three cabinets, searching for the tea.
“Next to the sink,” he says without looking at me. “Get some biscuits out too.”
“In bed?” I ask. I have no idea where anything is. But the array of tea is vast. I search through the tins, popping the lids and smelling a half dozen before I find one that is pleasant in a pale pink container. It reminds me of something...
“Give her a plate. I’m sure she can manage to not crumb up the whole thing.” Delmar laughs.
He takes the tea tin and makes the tea while I keep searching. In the back of a cabinet, I find a packet of biscuits.
“Oh, the good ones. Rodgers must have hidden those from Sterling.” Delmar pours the tea into a cup.
