Page 6 of Warrior (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #2)

Daisy

There was something meditative about doing dishes. A small reminder that no matter w strange life on the alien moon, some element of the human condition remained the same. You had to cook, eat… and scrub pots.

Tonight’s concoction wasn’t half bad. It had taken me a while to get used to the alien version of rice.

It was three times the size of Earth's version and cooked in half the time. Tonight was the first time I hadn’t scraped scorched pieces from the bottom of the pot.

I made a simple stew for dinner—dried meat, alien rice, and some type of tuber vegetable that looked like a white carrot and tasted like corn.

I experimented with the spices on hand, and tonight’s dinner tasted like a mixture of chicken pot pie and chili.

Maybe not altogether palatable, but edible.

The large stewpot clanged like a bell as I sat it on the table.

The bowls were done, as well as the utensils—strange contraptions that looked like a large spoon with three tines at the end—but they worked rather well.

Ewok usually helped me with the dishes. Handling the largest pot in the kitchen was a two-man job, so to speak.

He’d offered to help tonight, but since I caught him nodding off in his stew bowl, I insisted he go to bed.

A large yawn broke from my lips—Ewok wouldn’t be the only one hitting the sheets early tonight. By the time he, Daicon, and I got back from scoping out the tunnel, it was time to get breakfast together.

Daicon

I pushed away the little flutter in my heart—I was just excited about escaping. That was all.

I hadn’t seen the handsome alien much today.

He'd returned to the blocked tunnel after Ewok procured him a set of tools.

I saw them together in the early dawn, both exhausted from lack of sleep.

Daicon knelt so he and Ewok could talk privately about the escape while the other children roused for the day.

Enemies any other time but working together for a common goal.

It made my heart happy. The other children regarded Daicon without much excitement.

Most thought him just another prisoner sent to work in the mines.

We'd kept that ruse intact. No sense in getting the other children's hopes up.

Although my own hopes rose when he came to dinner, dust and sweat clinging to his muscles.

I knew he'd worked hard toward our escape.

The way my lips quirked upward was aggravating.

Why does the thought of Daicon make me smile?

Why does my blood seem hotter, and nervous system fine-tuned to anticipate his every word and move?

Yes, he’s gorgeous and sexy—extremely gorgeous and sexy.

It’s not like I’d never been around a handsome man before.

Gavin was very attractive but with a runner's lithe body, not hardened muscle on a nearly seven-foot frame. I’d met a lot of handsome, sexy men in my life, thanks to Gavin’s calling.

Some were even as gorgeous and sexy as Daicon as humans went.

He wasn’t even really a man—he shouldn’t be having this effect on me.

Maybe that strange machine screwed up my hormones when it de-aged me forty years?

“Do you need some help?”

The pot in my hand clattered to the floor, sounding like a gong from those old television game shows.

"Oh my God, you scared me!" My hand slapped my chest, trying to keep my heart from going airborne.

"I'm sorry," Daicon sauntered over to the sink, reaching down to snag the dropped pot enroute. His hair was damp, and the dirt covering him earlier was gone. The freshness of his scent drowned out the remnants of cookery—freshness that reminded me of being in the mountains on a snowy day.

He didn’t hand me the pot, instead swiping a fairly clean cloth from the tabletop and drying away the remnants of the wash.

As I watched his ministrations, the plethora of small cuts and bruises dotting his hands and arms didn’t go unnoticed.

My fingertips ached in sympathy when I noticed one of his fingernails darkened at the cuticle.

These were the hands of a man that worked hard today. For me. For the children.

The hammering of my heart settled into something deeper and steadier. Alien or not, Daicon was a good man. An honorable man. He could have rescued me against my will with his size, but he didn't. Instead, he considered my feelings and wishes—which meant a lot.

“You missed a spot.” He tilted the pot toward me, pointing to a rice crumb against the rim. I snorted and wiped it away with the threadbare brush I used to wash.

“Dinner was excellent.” He didn’t look at me, instead drying the pot as I scrubbed the next. “I don’t recall anything that tasty during my time here.”

The laugh that broke from me was surprisingly happy. “If you think dinner was good, you should see what I can do back on Earth.” I wasn’t the greatest cook, but I wasn’t the worst either. My pound cake and hash brown casserole were favorites at any church dinner.

An awkward silence flashed between us, and Daicon's eyes held a hint of sadness when they touched my face.

Right… I could never go back to Earth.

“On the Bardaga, we have an extensive kitchen with many earth ingredients. Perhaps you can cook dinner for me when we get back.”

Sweet fancy Moses.

Did he just ask me for a date?

“I’d like that. I like to cook, even here, with these awful ingredients. It's a challenge to turn out something tasty."

Did I just accept a date with him?

Why did the idea of a date with Daicon make me so darn giddy?

Calm down. You're excited to cook him dinner on his ship because it means you'll be out of here.

Yeah, I didn’t believe that either.

I handed him the last pot to dry, careful to keep our hands from touching. Water and electricity didn’t mix well in my experience. The grin he gave me faltered, as though he noticed I purposely didn’t touch him and didn’t like it.

"That's it. Thank you for helping." I pulled away the large rock acting as a sink stopper, and the dirty water gurgled away.

“It was the least I could do,” Daicon grinned. He stepped away, lifting his muscular arms over his head and stretching.

Sweet fancy Moses, how did it get so stinking hot in here?

"I guess I'll go find an empty bed in the dormitory." Daicon glanced at me over his shoulder. “Good night, Daisy.”

“Wait!”

One dark brow cocked, and his lips twitched upward, one side of his face raised in amused anticipation. Heat suffused my body, and I schooled my face into neutrality, despite knowing my cheeks were pink. I’d stopped him for purely rational reasons.

“You can’t sleep in the dorm. The guards sometimes do nightly inspections to ensure no children are missing."

Daicon pursed his lips, brows furrowing. But it only lasted a moment, and he smiled again. I liked his smile.

“I’ll find a spot in one of the tunnels,” he told me with a shrug. “Good night, Daisy.”

“You are not going to sleep in the tunnels,” I huffed, my southern hostess rearing her head.

Stepping closer, like my presence next to him could exert influence, I tilted my head to meet his golden gaze.

“I know you didn’t get any sleep last night, and you worked in the tunnel all day.

You need to get a good night's sleep. The tunnels are too cold and damp and downright nasty for that to happen.”

Daicon frowned, taking my words to heart. “Is there a place I can sleep the guards don’t inspect?”

There was a place.

Sweet fancy Moses!

Despite the butterflies that suddenly occupied my stomach, I gave a firm nod.

“Yes. My room.”

His eyebrow raised higher, and it might have peeved me off had I not caught the teasing glint in his eyes. I didn't give him a chance to tease me further, immediately going into what Gavin called my bulldozer mode .

"The guards leave me alone for me most part.” I jerked my chin toward the ragged piece of metal serving as a door.

The locks wouldn't keep anyone out, but at least it would warn us someone is trying to get in.

" A basket of clean scraps sat by the door, and I pilfered through it as I spoke, pulling out the largest and cleanest pieces.

"There are some sacks of grain and flour in the storage area.

It might make a decent mattress if we lay them side by side. "

Daicon’s eyes widened with surprise, but he moved into the storage area, returning with bags of alien flour hoisted on each shoulder.

I went ahead of him, broom in hand, and swept out an area in the corner of my room, purposely picking a spot to the right of the door.

That way, if someone got inside before he could hide, at least he could get the drop on them.

It took him eight trips—Daicon was a big boy—before we had enough bags to make a decent-size mattress. I set about fashioning a fitted sheet and pillow with the fabric scraps.

“I can do that,” Daicon offered. I shooed him away, so he made himself useful, shoring up the door locks.

“Your very mothering,” he said softly as his fingers deftly fiddled with the small mechanism.

“You think?” I chuckled and admitted. “I do like taking care of people.”

“I can tell,” Daicon snorted.

“I never had kids of my own, so I guess I needed an outlet for my motherly side,” I sighed as my fingers wove through scraps with the rustic needle and thread.

"Don't you have a mate on Earth?" Daicon's expression focused on the door, but I would have sworn I heard a hint of jealousy in his tone.

“I did, but Gavin died a little while ago.” Even now, the words cut through me like a dull, rusty knife.

“If you had a mate, why didn’t you have children?”

I blew out my breath slowly, determined not to let the flash of pain settle. “We wanted children, but there was something wrong with me… something the doctors couldn’t fix.”

"There is nothing wrong with you, Daisy." Daicon's voice was husky, but he didn't look at me.