Page 17 of Prospecting

He swallowed hard, wanted to sprinkle all those petals on his body and let her eat them off him. Remembering his promise, he took a petal and put it in his mouth. It was an explosion of earthy, fragrant flavor. “It’s like a mushroom,” he said. “But more.”

Her smile lit up her face with the compliment. “You like it then,” she said.

“Yes,” Cade said reaching out to hold her hand. Gazing into her eyes, he watched her eat, enjoyed looking at her, seeing the animation in her face. “How did you learn all this stuff?”

“My grandmother’s cook,” Sheridan said. “My grandmother would take Mia and I for a weekend. Mia was always bored and getting into trouble. Grandmother would send me to get tea. I spent hours there.”

“One thing led to another and voila you become this great chef,” Cade said.

“Look at that,” she said. “Cade Delvacy actually ate something new.”

“It was good,” he said. “What’s next?”

Lifting the lid off the pan, Sheridan said, “It was pricey, but I couldn’t resist this fish. It’s a Lemalini fish from Cala. It runs once a decade. The males are caught and dried. No females are caught. They’re smaller and slip through the nets. The fish is delicate and light.”

“Fish,” Cade said. “I can’t remember the last time I ate actual fish.”

“Don’t you like fish,” she asked biting her lip.

“Love it,” he said. “It’s usually too expensive.”

She served up a fillet for each of them, adding the slightly purple sauce with sautéed vegetables on the side. “You cook,” she said. “Who taught you?”

“Dad,” Cade said. “Mom can’t boil water. She was great at the books and a ton of other things but put her in a kitchen and she was horrible. When you meet her, don’t tell her I said that but don’t let her cook for you.”

“You have to be exaggerating,” Sheridan said.

“Nope. One time, she made spaghetti for us,” Cade said. “Simple meal, right? Nope. The noodles were undercooked. The meat was burnt. The sauce was clumpy. We’re still not sure what she put in there.”

“Oh my,” Sheridan said.

“Dad was a good basic cook,” Cade said. “Burgers, meats, potatoes, you know simple. Nothing like cooked flowers. Eventually all of us kids reached an age where dad didn’t have to cook. We traded off.”

“How many siblings do you have,” Sheridan asked.

“There are five of us,” Cade said. “Calli’s running the ops. Her group of ships will meet up with my youngest brother and sister. They run two other branches of the family business.”

“And your other sibling,” Sheridan asked.

“My middle sister,” Cade grimaced. “She’s off communing with nature.”

“What do you mean,” Sheridan asked.

“Have you heard of the Lessive Commune,” he asked clearing his plate.

“Yes, they’re on a planet by themselves,” Sheridan said. “Don’t take a lot of visitors and have gone back centuries in technology.”

“All to get to know the planet they live on and cleanse their spirit,” Cade said.

“She’s a member,” Sheridan asked.

“Sleeping with the head guy,” Cade scowled. “He knocks her up every year. She’s got like eight kids last we knew. We haven’t been allowed to visit her in the last year.”

“That’s awful,” Sheridan said.

“We tried getting them out,” Cade said. “But she’s determined.”

“Where are your parents,” Sheridan asked.

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