Page 16 of Wayfinder (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #5)
Heading back to the shuttle, I struggled to resist the urge to touch Jutuk.
I settled for small, innocent gestures, my hand brushing against his as we walked along.
My gaze couldn’t keep from giving him long, lingering looks, traveling again and again over the expanse of his gorgeous muscular body.
He was like a magnet, and I was a slab of metal.
.. hot, molten, throbbing metal. The light glinted off his hair, accentuating its deep shade of caramel.
His strong jawline and piercing golden eyes left me breathless.
His muscles flexed and bunched under his tan pelt as he moved, the chevrons over his shoulders rippling like primal tattoos.
He was absolutely the most stunning man I’d ever seen.
The unexpectedness of our kiss left me reeling.
I couldn’t believe I pounced on him like that.
Yet, with my heart still racing and my body buzzing from the electric connection between us, I couldn’t stop reveling at how wonderful it felt.
Every inch of my body was alive with a tingling sensation, and I relived the incident over and over again in my mind.
I wanted to relive it even more in person.
When we arrived back at the ship, the AI led us to the common room where the judges waited… along with Uilay.
The Kwado chef showed no signs of distress, despite his assistant recently being devoured by the alien version of a great white shark. His expression was disdainful, without even the slightest hint of gratitude that he’d escaped being on the menu.
The minute I walked through the double doors, applause erupted, led by a broadly smiling Chancellor.
“Congratulations to the winner of the competition, human chef Pearl!”
The applause increased, no one clapped so loudly as Jutuk. A wide smile splitting his gorgeous face.
“Cheat! I declare a cheat!”
Uilay bounded upon the dais, scowling at the judges. “This whole competition has been rigged to allow the human to win.”
I sucked in a breath, glancing at Jutuk.
His eyes met mine for a brief moment, our shared unease palpable.
An icy finger traveled down my spine as Uilay’s accusing gaze rested on me.
He was right, although I couldn’t admit it.
Jutuk seemed to sense my inner turmoil and took my hand in a firm grip, silently reminding me that there was more at stake than just my pride.
Yet, deep down inside, I knew that winning the contest like this would be a hollow victory—one that went against the very core of my soul.
“May I suggest a compromise so Chef Uilay will know I have defeated him fairly?”
Jutuk’s hand tightened on mine as Uilay snarled in my direction.
“Human Chef Pearl is the winner.” Chancellor Qaimus declared with a wave of his hand. “The rules of the contest….”
“I understand about the rules of the contest,” I cut in. “But may I suggest one last challenge? A final cook-off. Even if the outcome of the competition doesn’t change. Chef Uilay can claim bragging rights if he beats me.” And hopefully, it will shut him up, I added silently.
“I accept,” Uilay announced before the Chancellor had a chance to respond.
Qaimus pursed his lips in consideration.
“I, for one, would love to sample another of human chef Pearl’s wonderful dishes.” Lady Jessup added her two cents to the decision.
“I as well,” Counselor Trie concurred. At his side, Master Iffas seemed bored by the hoopla.
“What would you suggest for the menu?” The black beady eyes atop Chancellor Qaimus’ head studied me curiously.
“Well, Jutuk did manage to kill the ajkula.” I gestured toward the satchel Jutuk had dropped just inside the door.
We’d taken time to carve several large filets from the massive fish, just in case protein bars were on the menu for dinner.
I’d had enough of the molasses covered packing peanuts to last me a lifetime.
Chancellor Qaimus tapped his broad, slimy lips with a fat, webbed finger. “Very well. A final competition for these bragging rights . Chef Uilay and human chef Pearl will prepare dishes using the flesh of the ajkula.”
Jutuk retrieved the satchel, and we allowed Uilay the first choice of meat. Of course, he chose the thickest filet after putting his nasty nose on every other piece and theatrically taking a huge whiff.
Fish was never my favorite. I’d cook shrimp and lobster all day but found it easy to overcook a standard filet. Once the meat became dry, tough, and rubbery... there was no fixing that.
The filet I chose looked like shark. The flesh was slightly pink, firm, and meaty, not as delicate, and flaky as other fish.
Jutuk followed me into the kitchen, his large frame easily navigating through the narrow space and settling himself on the stool in the back corner.
His golden eyes observed my every move, but physically, he stayed out of the way, as always.
Normally, having anyone else in the kitchen would have grated on my nerves.
Jutuk’s quiet presence had become a comforting constant.
I took stock of the leftover veggies, alien versions of tomatoes, carrots, onions, peppers... and the odd fruit that tasted like a combination of grapefruit and lime.
What to cook?
In his kitchen area, Chef Uilay slung pots around like a madman. He didn’t seem to have trouble coming up with a menu, which irked me to no end.
“What is wrong, Pearl?” Jutuk’s voice was a low, caring rumble.
I pushed the frustration away with a smile. “Nothing. I’m just trying to figure out what to cook.”
“Unfortunately, we didn’t take the ajkula’s cock. So, cock a van is off the menu.” Jutuk said the words with utmost seriousness, although his golden eyes danced with mirth.
I laughed, feeling buoyed.
“I could make curry, perhaps.” I considered the large purple alien carrot. “But without turmeric and tamarind paste, the sauce would be shit.”
Jutuk nodded in supportive agreement, although I bet he’d never tasted curry in his life. I’d have to cook some for him when we got back to the space station.
I dropped the carrot into the bin and picked up the alien onion and a bright pink pepper. “I’d give my left tit for some soy sauce. My teriyaki salmon recipe would work great on this fish.”
Jutuk snorted, shaking his head. “I do not wish you to cook anything that would harm your lovely body.”
Jutuk’s intense, golden gaze fixated on my breasts.
I felt the weight of his eyes as they traced over my skin, sending a heated flush through my body.
My nipples responded to his attention, hardening with anticipation.
His stare was like a physical touch, igniting a fire that threatened to consume all rational thought.
I cleared my throat, and the golden eyes jumped to my face. His expression was so sheepish that I nearly laughed.
Reluctantly, I turned back to the fish, my mind scrolling through the hundreds of recipes stored in my brain. Nothing seemed right.
“Well,” I sighed, picking up a small knife. “The only way to know how to cook the fish is to taste it.”
“You tasted the behia and struzzi raw, too,” Jutuk murmured, watching as I cut a small translucent piece of meat from the filet.
“It’s the only way to find the true flavor.” I hesitated a moment, knowing that shark meat possessed a nasty ammonia flavor, then laid the sliver of flesh on my tongue. Surprisingly, the meat held a delicate, mild taste with a slight sweetness similar to crab or whitefish.
I turned to Jutuk, smiling.
“I take it you know what you are going to cook?” He grinned at me.
“Yep. And I’m not cooking at all.”
“Not cooking?” Jutuk frowned as I began piling vegetables on the work counter. “How will you win if you don’t cook?”
“How, indeed?” I teased, lifting one of the grapefruit/lime things to my nose.
It had a distinctly more grapefruit scent but should complement the fish nicely.
I lifted the knife to slice it in half for a taste when the daunting task of all the chopping that needed to be done for the dish settled into my brain.
“Hey Jutuk, how good are you with a knife?” The words shocked me even as they left my mouth.
“Good enough,” he smirked, eyeing me curiously.
In my restaurants, only the most experienced and talented chefs gained entry to the kitchen.
I required at least ten years of culinary expertise before even considering someone for a spot.
I watched their every move. Every slice had to be precise, every dice clean and uniform, every whisk fluid and controlled, and every stir purposeful.
Only when I felt satisfied that their skill matched the high standard of quality I required did one pass muster.
When Jutuk rose from the stool, I handed him a blade, pointed to the vegetables, and went to work mixing my marinade.
I trusted him.
I trusted him in a way I’d never trusted anyone other than my grandmother.
I only glanced over to check on him once.
Jutuk was good. Honestly, his dicing technique was the best I’d ever seen. The small cubes of vegetables looked perfectly uniform.
It was strange to admit, but I had fun working alongside Jutuk. We moved synchronized and seamless, a dance of chopping, stirring, and seasoning like a well-choreographed tango.
Cooking together is intimate, like a duet between lovers who understand each other’s rhythms perfectly.
Just like with sex, you were either compatible or not.
It was easy to see we worked well together in the kitchen.
I couldn’t help but wonder how the gorgeous seven-foot alien at my side would be in bed.
Especially after that kiss.
My toes still tingled.
Hell, everything still tingled.