Page 43 of Rupture

Her lips parted with a tiny gasp. The sound punched low in his gut, made him want things he had no business wanting. Not here. Not now. But for the first time since the mission had begun, he imagined a future beyond the next few hours.

“I’m going to make you something to eat.” He forced himself to step back, though every instinct screamed to stay close to her.

The industrial kitchen was all gleaming stainless steel and scrubbed wooden workbenches. His footsteps echoed as he strode to the walk-in freezer, yanking open the heavy door. A blast of freezing air hit his face as he surveyed the shelves. A decent cook could work miracles with basic ingredients, but this was something else.

The freezer was rammed with pre-packaged meals and institutional basics. Finn grabbed a loaf of frozen bread, frowning at its perfect, manufactured shape. The refrigerator offered even less—wilted lettuce, suspicious-looking ham, and a tube of processed cheese. At home, he’d have home-made sourdough, a hunk of mature cheddar, creamy butter. Here, under thousands of tons of water and rock, he had processed cheese in a squeeze tube.

His jaw clenched. Not exactly what he’d planned for their first meal together. He froze, hands still gripping the cabinet door.First meal together. Since when had he started thinking about ‘firsts’ with Rose?

He huffed out a breath and closed the door, glancing over the counter to check on her. She was exactly where he’d left her, and something warm unfurled in his chest ather compliance. But her shoulders curved forward with exhaustion.

A fresh surge of protectiveness hit him.

They had little time, and she needed food—even if it wasn’t up to his usual standards.

Finn pried open the vacuum-sealed bread, the plastic crinkling under his fingers. Orange goo oozed from the tube, leaving shiny trails on the pale slices.Fuck.Reduced to squeeze cheese. At least no one was filming this culinary travesty.

He slid the sandwiches into the industrial toaster, its heating elements glowing orange. While they cooked, he spooned hot chocolate powder into two mugs, the rich scent a small redemption for the processed cheese crime he’d just committed.

He set the plate and mugs on the table in front of Rose along with a cotton cloth he’d soaked in warm water, then sat down beside her.

“Come here.” He steadied her face with two fingers under her chin and carefully wiped her face clear of gore with the warm cloth. “Much better.”

She opened her eyes.

The eye contact sent a bolt of heat through his body, settling low in his gut. From this vantage point, fresh details caught his attention. The soft, downy fuzz at her temple, the steady rhythm of her pulse at the base of her throat, the river-green of her eyes accentuated by the dark fan of her lashes.

“Let me.” She took the cloth from him and returned the gesture, her fingertips soft against his cheek. He forced himself to take slow breaths so she wouldn’t see how his heart thundered against his ribs.

“All done.” She patted his cheek and smiled.

He took the cloth from her, trying not to imagine what those cool fingers would feel like on his body. “Eat.”

He crossed back to the other side of the table and she watched as he dumped two heaping spoonfuls of sugar into her hot chocolate. “That’s a lot of?—”

“Sugar is good for shock.” He pushed it toward her. “Drink.”

Rose’s smile softened her tired features. “Thank you.” She wrapped her hands around the mug, her expression suddenly shy. “You don’t need to take care of me like this.”

“I know,” he said, his voice low. Their gaze met across the table. “Humor me. It makes me happy.” The admission settled in his chest, warm and unexpected.

“So when you’re working on the surface, who takes care of you?”

“Um, no one. I mean, me.”

“Independent.” A smile ticked at the edge of her mouth.

“Everyone needs looking after sometimes.” His voice came out gruffer than he intended.

She took a bite of the toast, crumbs dusting the plate. Her eyebrows rose. “Squeeze cheese?”

“Um yes.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not exactly my signature dish.”

“It’s…” She swallowed. “Different.”

God, he’d never live this down.

A giggle escaped her, the sound making his heart flip. “Squeeze cheese has to be the weirdest food ever invented.” She reached across and took hold of his fingers, her touch sending warmth up his arm. “Thank you.” She took another bite, exaggerating her enjoyment. “Mmm. Surprisingly delicious.”

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