Page 7 of Grumpy Alien Lumberjack
He grunted and turned away, but not before she caught the slight slump to his shoulders. Was he disappointed? The thought made her chest tighten unexpectedly. This gruff, massive warrior had tried to make her breakfast, and she had hurt his feelings by not liking his cement porridge.
"Methic," she said softly. "Thank you for breakfast."
He paused, his back still to her, then gave a curt nod.
Determined to salvage the moment, Jeneva took another bite and tried not to grimace. The texture was somehow both gritty and slimy. "You know, with a dash of cinnamon and maybe some clove, this would taste like fall."
"The spice you mentioned last night."
She forced down another spoonful. "Your whole house smells like it."
"What is this food that you call 'fall'?"
Despite the horrible porridge coating her mouth, Jeneva found herself smiling. "It's not food. It's a season, a time of year back on Earth. The weather gets colder, the leaves turn beautiful colors like red, orange, gold, yellow and then fall off the trees."
Methic's brow furrowed as he turned to face her fully. "Because they are dead. Your voice sounds happy while discussing death. Does it please you when the leaves fall?"
She almost laughed. He sounded like a grumpy old man, which made her own cheerfulness feel even more pronounced by contrast.
"Humans enjoy the fall colors. The trees themselves don't die. They shed their leaves, so they don't have to provide nutrients throughout the winter. They go into a sort of hibernation, and when summer comes back, they grow new leaves. The cycle begins all over again."
He watched her for a moment, something unreadable in his expression, then moved to the counter. When he returned, he carried two steaming mugs. A rich scent like fresh ground coffee filled the air, and her mouth watered instantly. She hadn't had coffee—real coffee—in longer than she could remember.
She accepted the mug with both hands, sucking in a soft, quick breath as their fingers brushed. His skin was surprisingly warm, almost hot.
"Asemsa has no seasons like you describe." He quickly moved away and resumed his seat, but she noticed how his eyes lingered on her hands wrapped around the mug. "The trees inside the Nexxus change color, but they do not lose their leaves unless they are dying. When they shed, I must cull the tree so the sapling it left behind can take its place. It is a delicate balance. Without help from a Majaki, the Nexxus forest would die."
Her eyes strayed to the massive axe resting against the far wall. The blade gleamed even in the dim kitchen light.
"So you're a lumberjack." She sipped the brew and couldn't suppress a soft moan. The coffee tasted so real, so perfect. She wasn't going to ask what it really was—better not to know.
He watched her take another sip, his gaze intense on her lips before he turned away. "A lumberjack is..."
"Someone who cuts down trees," she offered, then added with a small smile, "Usually while wearing flannel and looking ruggedly handsome."
His head tilted slightly. "Flannel?"
Her wrist com suddenly beeped, shattering the moment. Her stomach flipped. Rusik. He was probably furious that she hadn't answered him.
Methic's eyes tracked to the device, then to her face. His entire demeanor shifted, becoming predatory. "You fear the one who hails you."
"Section Leader Rusik." She pressed her hand over the device, muffling another beep. "He's not a nice man. I'm supposed to answer him."
"Yet you do not."
Her fingers tightened around the warm mug. "He just wants to lock me up before putting me back on the—"
Cold chills raced over her scalp. What did it matter? Why was she about to spill her sob story to this alien she had just met? Yet something about Methic made her want to keep telling him everything.
"It doesn't matter."
Methic's entire body went rigid, his hands curling into fists. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as his expression darkened into something genuinely dangerous. "He imprisoned you."
"I broke the rules."
The amber of his eyes darkened to molten gold. "There is nothing you could do that would warrant imprisonment."
Her heart stuttered. He didn't even ask what she had done. He was ready to defend her without knowing why. The intensity of his reaction, the immediate protectiveness—it should have frightened her. Instead, warmth bloomed in her chest even as dread overshadowed it. She couldn't hide from Rusik forever.
