Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Husband service? Uh oh. "Sure thing, I'll head on over." I lick my fingers, thinking, while the customers bend their heads and eye Simone's baked goods. "Say, I don't suppose you know who would sell an exotic plant around here, do you? Think Skritch could get me one?"
"If he can't, I'm sure Kaz can," she says, offhand. "Can I help you ladies find anything?"
"Wait," I interrupt. "Who's Kaz?"
"Kazex." Simone keeps smiling at her customers and shoots me a dirty look for being rude.
"He's not back yet, I thought?"
She gives me a weird little frown. "Yeah, he is. He came back yesterday. I told your husband that."
CHAPTER
SEVENTY-EIGHT
MAEVE
So Kazex is back and Zhur didn't tell me.
At first I'm confused, and then a little hurt. Why wouldn't he say anything? Surely he'd known before I spilled the beans about the royal wedding, which means he knew Kazex was back and kept it secret. But...why?
As I process this bit of information, a new realization hits me. He knew and didn't say anything because he wasn't ready to talk to him yet. Talking to Kazex means he's got one foot out the door...and he's clearly not ready. My heart melts a little more. Maybe he doesn't hate this place as much as he says. Maybe he doesn't hate me as much as he says.
Actually he hasn't been saying that he hates me at all. He just calls me his wife in that deep, smoky tone of his and makes my toes curl.
I haven't been lonely, either. Despite our initial conflicts with each other, I like having him around. I like his company and I sure do like the way he is in bed. I don't know what the future will hold given that he's a freaking ousted prince, but like Zhur, I'm not ready for him to go just yet.
"You have a goofy smile on your face," Simone says. "I guess married life must be pretty good, huh? You've smiled more in the last few days than since I met you."
Of course I am. I have company, I have sex, and I have a life of freedom. I'm kinda loving things...except for the whole “prince” situation. I'm not going to worry about that just yet, though. Zhur has made it clear I can't ask about it, can't look it up, can't do anything, and I don't want to endanger him. I can see about that plant, though. "I'm just in a good mood," I tell Simone. "Speaking of Kazex, where is our buddy?"
"Working on the cantina," she says, gesturing down the street. "If you head over and you see Ruth-Ann, tell her...she was right."
"Right about what?"
Simone just makes an exasperated face. "She'll know. Trust me."
I point in the direction she indicated and then back at her. "Is this some weird flirty thing I should be aware of? Do you want me to pass her a note asking her if she likes you and to check 'yes' or 'no'?"
"Go away, Maeve," is all Simone says.
Shit. I'm right. It is a flirty thing. How fascinating. Simone has mentioned a few times that she's not interested in men, but I didn't connect the dots that she might be interested in women. I thought she was just turned off after her experiences in the past, as so many of us are. Well, hot diggity. I want to go take a look at this Ruth-Ann for myself. "I'm going, I'm going...I'll tell Ruth-Ann you said hi."
"Just tell her she was right! That's all!" Simone calls after me. "Nothing else!"
I all but run down the street, looking for the cantina in question. I've passed by a few times in the past while construction was going on, but as a woman alone, I stay away from places inhabited by strange men. When I did business with Kazex, I went through Simone. I probably wouldn't even recognize him if he stood in front of me. I approach the building at the end of the winding main street of Port, and notice that there are a few men hanging a sign out front. It's got a bunch of strange symbols at the top, and in small lettering underneath, it says “Sunrise Cantina” in English. I stand back and watch as one of the alien men—with bright red skin, dark hair and lots of tattoos—waves directions at the others.
"Left," he says, waving his hand in the air at the two men on hover-scaffolds, straightening the sign. "No, the other left."
One of the men turns, and to my surprise, he looks just like the one directing the sign. "You sure you know what your left is?"
The one on the ground scoffs. "Of course I do."
"Uh huh," says the other. "My left or your left?”
The one on the ground studies both his hands and then raises his right hand. "This left."