Page 23 of Kiss of Fury

The setting sun reddened her hair, turning it to fire and adding a blush to her cheeks. She was the most striking, beautiful woman he’d seen.My wife now.

“Thank goodness you got a signal. You wouldn’t have been able to see in the dark; you could have gotten lost. Or walked right into a horniger.” She looked worried.For him.

“I don’t have a problem seeing at night,” he said to reassure her and then realized what he’d admitted.

Refuge had no moon. Nights were nearly pitch-black, the only light coming from distant stars.Humans—most beings— couldn’t see the hand in front of their faces.

“With your superpowered man-vision?” she joked.

“Something like that.” He flashed a relieved grin. “Anyway, when we got to the ranch, I stopped to shower. I smelled like horniger.”

“I appreciate the effort.” She grinned. “And the other diners will, too. Are you ready? Let’s go eat.” She started toward the mess hall.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked.

“What?”

“Your son? Shouldn’t we bring him?”

“Oh my god! Yes. I can’t believe I forgot all about him.” Her face turned pink.

She rushed to the school. Was he a terrible person for feeling a tiny bit pleased she’d been so focused on dinner with him that she’d momentarily forgotten the kid? Undoubtedly, but then he was a terrible person for far worse reasons.

Scrolling on a tablet, her son sat alone, the only kid left in the class. His teacher worked at her desk. “Mom!” He leaped up. “You’re late!”

“I’m sorry.” Verity winced and looked at the teacher.

“It’s my fault,” Fury said. “I arrived late for our wedding.”

“You’re married?” Brody gaped at them.

Her conflicted expression worried him.Was I not supposed to say anything? Had she intended to keep their marriage a secret from the boy?She hadn’t brought him to the wedding. Then again, maybe she hadn’t wanted to take him out of school.

The teacher smiled. “Congratulations. I guess we can excuse the tardiness this once.”

“I promise I won’t be late picking him up anymore—and I arranged for his lunches.”

Outside, Brody stared at him. “Does this mean you’re my dad?”

An unfamiliar ache niggled in his chest. “Um—”

“It means Fury is my husband,” Verity said. “Remember, I explained we would be coming to a new planet, and I would be getting married?”

“For a while, you said.” He nodded and then peered up at Fury. “So, what do I call you?”

“You can call me Mike,” he said. “I think we can be on a first-name basis.” He had yet to hearhersay his name.

“Mike,” she said as if testing it out. His chest ached again.

“Mike, can I have a hot dog?” Brody asked. “I’m hungry.”

“I doubt Haven has hot dogs. I have no idea what’s on the dinner menu,” he replied.

“Oh.” His face fell.

“We talked about how the foods would be different, and we would have to adjust,” she said.

“Let’s go eat and see what they have,” Fury suggested. All food was strange to him because it wasfood. Abundant and tasty. Solutions had fed its cyborgs a high-calorie, nutrient-rich, chalky slurry twice a week.

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