He dropped his hand away from her shoulder, feeling a little defeated. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve made food sooner.”
The hurt and worry must’ve come out in his voice because she took one of his hands in hers. “Hey, this isn’t a big deal. It’s good for a human to feel a little hunger before meal time. It makes everything taste better.”
“I’m not doing something wrong?” Why did he sound so needy? He’d organized the supply line for an entire sector of the Orlok War, and here he was, acting as if he was a fumbling youth in his first year of the military academy.
“No! You’re great! I know I wouldn’t be doing so good if you hadn’t taken such great care of me,” she answered, petting the back of his hand.
“Will you stay here and let me feed you?” he asked. She hadn’t let him feed her after that first meal. “You could sit in my lap, and I could hold you while you eat.”
She hesitated and he almost told her to disregard his request. Then her lips curved up and she gave his hand a last pat before letting go. “We can do that.”
He jumped to his feet and rushed to shove packs into the reconsitutor. Once they were done, he set them on the table then returned to her in the nest.
It was hard to judge some of her expressions, but he thought this one might be anticipation. She was probably starving!
He scooped her up, sat on the only chair, and settled her on his lap. She made a humming sound he’d learned meant she was happy and content.
Having her in his arms again loosened something that had been tightening in his chest since she’d felt well enough to feed herself. He sounded a soothing rumble and picked up the spoon.
He was careful not to spill as he put the utensil close to her mouth. She accepted the food, chewed, and swallowed.
“Your jorjuk stew is good, but I’ll be happy to have something different when we get to Yormun.”
“It has gotten a little monotonous,” he agreed
After she’d eaten her fill, she snuggled against his chest and relaxed. “I know it goes against everything strong and independent, but I like this.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, sounding a steady soothing rumble and loosely wrapping his arms around her. By the ancestors, she felt good pressed against his body. If he could, he’d hold her all the time.
“Mom and Dad were adamant that we couldn’t look weak in front of other species,” she said, letting her eyes fall closed. “Humans are at a disadvantage already. I grew up understanding I couldn’t do anything that would be interpreted as a vulnerability.”
Zeph couldn’t see a flaw in the strategy. “If it makes you feel better, you’ve impressed me repeatedly.”
“Because I can beat you at grav?” she asked with a half-laugh.
“Not only your grav skills and ability to learn quickly, but also your fortitude and determination,” he said. “Faced with two Talin warriors, you didn’t simply give in. You fought and it looked like you would’ve kept trying even though you were badly wounded. After I carried you on the ship, you were level headed despite the pain you must’ve been in. I’ll never forget all the blood everywhere, and you were calm and talking.”
She huffed out a laugh. “What choice did I have? Become hysterical? That doesn’t help anyone.”
“Pain can cause anyone to act irrationally,” he said. “I hate that you must’ve faced many painful situations in the past.”
“Why would you say that?”
“It’s clear you’ve had practice setting aside your fear and pain to focus on what needed to be done. I admire everything about you.”
She hooked an arm around his neck and hugged him. “Thanks, Zeph. Most people think I get lucky when I bring, um, when I’msuccessful. They never see the skills and determination that go into it.”
“What do you—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish his question about her profession. The proximity alarm went off, telling them the ship was entering the Yormun Station security border. It was time to interact with the station and provide their credentials.
Han made a grumbly sound as she let go of him and slid off his lap. It wouldn’t be comfortable for her to remain there while he operated the controls of the ship from the pilot’s chair. The space between the chair and the display was too small to fit both of them.
“This will be a quick stop,” he said as he hurried to the ship’s controls.
“Sure,” she agreed. Her voice sounded odd. He looked over his shoulder to see a slight frown on her face. Perhaps she was scared of going onto a station she wasn’t familiar with.
“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised. “You don’t have to worry about appearing weak on Yormun. No one will be allowed to test you while I’m around.”
