Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“We’ve warmed my house, and we’ve warmed my new bed. And I’m pretty happy with both.”
“I’m going to echo what you said earlier. To new beginnings.”
They both sipped. And then, very deliberately, holding his gaze, she sipped champagne and held it in her mouth, then leaned over and sucked one of his nipples between her lips. He felt the bubbles of the champagne and the coldness, and then the warmth of her tongue licking at him, and amazingly he was rock hard again. He wouldn’t have thought he’d had enough time to recover, but his sea witch could do anything to him. This time, it was she who took the glass out of his hand and put it on the bedside table along with hers, and then she proceeded to love him with her mouth until he couldn’t stand it anymore, and he flipped her onto her back and regained control.
They might have gone on like that all night, but at some point somebody’s stomach grumbled. He thought it might have been his. He looked up at her. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving,” she admitted.
And so they got up, and instead of putting her dress on, she snuggled into his navy blue robe that had been hanging on the back of the door. He loved how she looked in it. It hung almost to her ankles, and she had to roll up the sleeves. He picked up his jeans and slipped into them, and then they went downstairs to the kitchen.
Herschel opened the fridge, and Mila remarked on the bounty within. He glanced at her. “My specialty is omelets. How do you feel about an omelet?”
“Sounds perfect.”
She topped up their champagne and sat at his kitchen island, watching as he methodically and expertly washed his hands as though preparing for surgery, then chopped mushrooms, peppers, ham, and grated cheese, checking with her each time to see if she approved of the ingredients, all of which she did. When he opened cupboards to get down dishes, she said, “Have you already rearranged the cupboards? They look way more precise.”
He nodded. “Of course. I didn’t find the previous layout as efficient.”
She laughed. “Normally, I would find that super weird, but actually I admire how orderly you are. Maybe because it’s the exact opposite of me.”
When the eggs went into the pan, he lifted the edges and rolled the liquid around just like a sous-chef, so that when they were cooked, they would be fluffy and perfect. While he was doing that, he also managed to slice a fresh avocado, melon, and fresh strawberries so that the final presentation was multicolored and beautiful. He wanted Mila to remember this meal forever, even if it was just an omelet.
When he saw her gazing at him, he was suddenly worried. “What? Did I forget something?”
She got up, walked around the island, and then kissed him. “I have never watched anyone make an omelet so beautifully.”
Now the worry turned to bashfulness. “I like to cook,” he admitted.
“And I like to eat,” she replied.
While they sat side by side, the sides of their legs touching, she asked, “What foods did you miss most when you were in space?”
“Fresh fruit and vegetables, for sure,” he said without a hint of hesitation.
She looked thoughtful. “What do you eat up there, anyway?”
“Packets of freeze-dried stuff. They’re marked beef stroganoff or chicken curry, but really it’s space food. Keeps the body nourished and going, but it’s nothing to write home about.”
She tapped her glass. “I guess there’s no wine.”
He shook his head. “There’s tubes of things like orange juice, but you have to be careful. Because there’s no gravity, if the liquid gets away from you, it floats away.” He got out of his chair and mimed a drop of liquid and him chasing it as though it were a butterfly and his mouth were a net. His reward was Mila’s gorgeous laugh, so carefree and infectious.
He sat and finished the last of his omelet. By the time he looked up at Mila, he sensed her mood had changed.
Licking the last of the melon juice from her lips, she said, “So, you’re good-looking, great in bed, you can cook, and you have a pretty interesting job. Why aren’t you married?”
He felt his face fall, and he knew he’d have to explain. “I sort of got close once, a long time ago, but it didn’t work out. And now I’m glad it didn’t, because I never want to leave someone I love behind when I go into space, knowing I might not come back. I’ve never wanted to leave behind a widow or orphans. My work is too risky. I can’t have a wife and kids and then disappear into the stars one day… and never come home.”
He hoped she’d understand him a bit better now.