Wager: A Sci-Fi Romance (The Jekh Saga Book 4)

by H. E. Trent

  “Uh-huh. Practically family.” The word “family” sounded like a pejorative. Jasper didn’t mean for it to, but he wasn’t going to apologize for his anger—for being the outsider yet again.

  “Yeah. I suppose so. We’re pretty close knit here. The Ciprianis with the McGarrys, the McGarrys with the Beshnis, the Beshinis with the Merridons…”

  “No room for strangers, then.” Always the outsider, because Jasper had no one left on Earth and Jekh wasn’t looking much better.

  Again, Marco shrugged. “I’m not going to let myself feel guilty about this. What am I supposed to do? Tell her that, no, I don’t want her because someone else wants her, too?”

  “Maybe I didn’t think you were the competitive type.”

  “And if I was? Then what? Would you respect me more as a threat then? What’s bothering you most, that for once in my life, I didn’t have to try, or the fact that she’s a Merridon?”

  Both.

  Didn’t matter anymore. The line was clearly drawn in the sand, and Jasper was on the wrong side.

  “You know what?” Needing to do something—anything—with his hands, Jasper picked his pencil back up. “Don’t even bother. Keep your words. I’m used to being the guy on the outside, and I guess I shouldn’t expect that to change.” He laughed dryly. “Especially not in this fucking place, right? Pointless trying to make connections here, even if you’re paying for them. You’re going to lose every fucking time unless the planets are aligned ever so specifically.”

  He pushed the pen and notebook off the bed and breathed through the pain of settling onto his back. If he’d had the strength, he would have gotten out of that fucking bed and gone home to his own sorry-ass room, but he couldn’t even draw in a deep breath without wincing.

  “Just… Just go,” he told Marco through clenched teeth.

  “Jesus, Jasper. Listen. I backed off. I really did. I was going to stand aside and let you have your chance, but things didn’t work out that way.”

  “You couldn’t say no, you mean.”

  Marco didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. His silence was enough. The long exhalation said plenty. “Too late to say no now, and I don’t want to. She’s a good woman.”

  “Mm-hmm. I’m serious. Go.” Jasper wanted to turn his back to him, but he couldn’t without hurting, and he already hurt enough. The tightness in his chest was nearly enough to make him pass out, and the pain wasn’t due to any injury caused by his fall. That was betrayal, plain and simple. He hadn’t felt that since he’d arrived on Jekh and had learned why he’d really been sent there.

  But this was worse. This was personal.

  “I’m going to bring you dinner.” Marco took a step backward toward the corridor.

  “Don’t bother.” Jasper was going to do everything in his power not to be there at dinnertime, even if he had to roll himself onto the floor, dig his fingers into the floor grates, and crawl his way out of The Tin Can.

  “I’ll bring you dinner.” Marco left before he could hear Jasper’s emphatic “Fuck you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Where are you taking that?” Elken asked Marco later that evening as he carried a food basket toward the main house’s side door.

  His plan had been to get dinner out quickly to Jasper before the man got too attached to his anger. If he were like Marco, if he were allowed to wallow in his perceived humiliation, his rebounding would never be complete. He’d live with his shame forever like a disease he couldn’t shake, and Marco had always found that being redirected as quickly as possible helped. Precious was a master at redirecting Marco when she thought something was wrong.

  However, Elken had foiled Marco’s plan and snuck up on him like some kind of silent cat.

  “Jeez, make some noise,” he told her. He patted down a lock of hair behind her temple that always seemed to bunch up. No matter how tightly her aunts pulled her braids and ponytails, Elken always had lumps within fifteen minutes.

  Her eyes crossed as she rolled her gaze up to his hand.

  “Eh. I give up.” He wrapped his fingers around the basket handle. “Precious’s hair does that sometimes, too, but I don’t think she cares so much.”

  Elken scrunched her nose. “She wears hats.”

  “Know why?”

  She shook her head in the enthusiastically curious way of most three-year-olds. “Why?”

  “Because she doesn’t brush her hair,” Marco whispered. “She’s lazy.”

  Her jaw dropped.

  “Uh-huh.” Marco nodded. “I wouldn’t say so if it wasn’t true.” He tweaked her nose. She was so darned cute. It was no wonder everyone on the farm doted on her so much, though some of that may have had a bit to do with the Jekhan fondness for all children. They liked them and wanted to see more of them born. They wanted their population vital and robust again, and he was starting to let himself fantasize about having some small part in that.

  Kids of his own? He’d never let his thoughts go there, but there was something about the idea of a dinner table full of boisterous kids spilling pasta sauce all over the place settings and asking way-too-damn-many questions that tugged at his heartstrings. Maybe with Sera, such a scene could become his reality. She was a wonderful mother.

  “Why she doesn’t brush?” Elken asked.

  “Why doesn’t who brush what?” Sera entered the room, looking lovely and fresh, wearing a pale blue dress in the Jekhan style that made the undertones of her hair stand out.

  He stared, probably leered, actually, because he hadn’t seen that dress before. The cut flattered her curves and floated between her legs as if she made her own breeze when she moved. She was gorgeous. A living, breathing Muse on terra firma.

  And she’d picked him. Him over everyone Little Gitano had to offer. He could hardly believe his good fortune.

  “Marco?” she asked, pulling the fabric of her sling between her teeth and tightening the strap.

  “Hmm?” His gaze snapped up from the V of her neckline and the hint of cleavage there.

  He’d seen every inch of her. She’d let him see every inch of her. She’d made him touch, even though he’d been tentative. He didn’t know when he’d get used to that—the open access. Of having someone he wanted so badly who was going to tell him “Yes” every time.

  “Why doesn’t who brush what?” she repeated.

  “Sorry. I didn’t hear you.” Over the sounds of your breasts. He was a fucking thirteen-year-old, apparently. He shifted the basket to his other hand and patted down Elken’s hair once more. “We were talking about Precious. She’s pretty trifling and doesn’t brush her hair much.”

  “Oh, I see.” Moving to the counter, Sera chuckled. She plucked a cup from the drying rack and filled it at the filtered water dispenser. “Be kind. She is your sister. What is that Terran saying? That blood is thicker than water?”

  He hitched Elken up to his hip and danced his brows upward. “That adage is all well and good in theory, but Terran families are a lot different than Jekhan ones. A lot of us would like nothing more than to get as far away from our siblings as we can once we’re out on our own. Sticking close isn’t necessarily a priority.”

  Ashen, Sera set her cup on the counter and wiped her hand on her dress.

  “I mean, don’t get me wrong,” he amended, knowing that he’d made a terrible gaffe. She’d been estranged from her brother for far too long. “We love each other. The culture’s a lot different, though.”

  “I could never move far away from Trigrian now that I’m home, and I believe my sisters are on the same accord with that.”

  “And I like that idea,” Marco said.

  “Do you really? Don’t agree only if you’re trying to mollify me.”

  “I mean it.” He hitched Elken up a little higher so she could link her arms around his neck. The kid was a cuddler, and he didn’t mind. He’d had to be so hands-off with the kids he taught because affection wasn’t proper in a school setting, but she was Elken. No
one would scold him for giving her the attention she so desperately needed. “I can imagine us being in the same village, or whatever. We wouldn’t necessarily have to live under the same roof. We’d probably kill each other.”

  “I like Precious. Precious is nice,” Elken said resolutely.

  Marco grimaced and just raised his eyebrows again in response. Precious had everyone fooled. “Anyhow, I was telling Elken that my sister has questionable hygiene at times, but don’t worry. It’s not a genetic proclivity.”

  Sera grinned and raised her cup to her lips. “Good.” She took a long sip and then glided across the room, skirt billowing around her legs, enthralling and hypnotizing him. Making him wish for a glimpse of the long, shapely legs beneath. Making him wish more that they were wrapped around him. “Do you like my dress?” she asked, picking up her skirt as if to curtsey. “It was my mother’s.”

  “Was I that obvious?”

  “I made a guess. Was I correct?” She handed Elken the cup since she was reaching for it.

  “Yeah. Pretty. I don’t know much—or anything, really—about Jekhan fashion. Looks stylish, though.”

  She furrowed her brow.

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “Really?”

  “Truly. The style had gone out of favor even when my mother wore it, but we were always slower to learn about the trends here.”

  “Screw the trends, I say. I think you could singlehandedly start a new one.”

  “Thank you. Perhaps one day, I’ll be able to get Elken into a traditional dress.”

  “Don’t like big dresses,” Elken said. “They’re tangly.”

  “Yes, I guess they can be.” She kissed Elken’s forehead and then shifted her gaze up to Marco. “Where are you taking my daughter?”

  He grimaced, remembering. “Nowhere. I figured she wouldn’t mind a different view for a couple of minutes. From here, she gets to see what’s on top of the bread box.”

  Elken giggled.

  “I was about to carry Jasper his dinner. He said not to bother, but I told him I would, so…”

  Sera’s smile dissolved. “I imagine there’s no one else who can, so—”

  “Hey.”

  The single word needed to be enough. There wasn’t much he could say with Elken listening so intently, but he needed to make her understand that taking sides wasn’t fruitful. She may not have liked that many men in Little Gitano were treating her and other women like commodities, but they could understand why the men went to such lengths. The women could dismantle the system and make things more palatable.

  She forced a smile back on.

  “Here you go, girlie.” He set Elken onto her feet, took her hand, and walked her to the end of the counter. Tipping the nearly empty cookie jar toward her, he looked to her mother, who was shifting her weight nervously and staring at her feet.

  She needed a distraction from their Jasper problem, and so did he.

  “Sera.”

  She glanced up, violet eyes a flash of dark blue at that angle. “Hmm?”

  “Did you see Brenna tonight? She was chattering on and on about her database. Did you give her your input?”

  “Database?”

  “Yeah. She works fast when she gets a wild hair to do something.” He put the lid on the jar and slid the container back against the wall. “She’s working with Amy to get all the right permits in place to run the system. They’re trying to arrange things so folks can easily travel when they’re ready. I don’t think Jasper would stay in the system long.”

  “Perhaps not.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and nudged Elken toward the gathering room door when she approached with her cookies. “A consolation offering, perhaps?”

  “Exactly.”

  She gave a curt nod and finished what was left of her water. “How could we go about getting him included?”

  “I’ll ask Brenna, and then I’ll go see what he has to say.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “Yeah?”

  She raised her stronger shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t want him to have hard feelings. I know it’s not my place to placate every man I refuse, but this feels like a special case. I feel like…”

  Like you have a heart?

  Like she gave a damn about people and understood that romance sometimes lifted people up out of darkness. And sometimes, the tease of it sent them crashing hard to the ground like Icarus and his fucking wax wings.

  “Like something’s left undone?” he murmured.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Does that make me a fool?”

  “If so, then we’re both fools.”

  ___

  Fifteen minutes later as Marco opened the door of The Tin Can, Sera balled and uncalled her left hand into a fist and concentrated on the pain she’d been avoiding. Every jolt to her nerves was proof that her body was still capable of mending itself of trauma, but she knew her timing was poor. Thinking about how much her arm hurt was far easier than thinking about the disappointment she was creating for someone.

  Jasper may have been a perfectly fine man, but she couldn’t be his. She couldn’t be with anyone she hadn’t chosen, not after spending so much of her adult life having other people make every decision for her.

  The door rattled up into the tracks, and Marco breathed out a groan. “I thought we’d fixed that. Back to the drawing board, I guess.”

  “That is not normal?”

  “No. According to the ship specs, that door is supposed to have an instantaneous, silent open. Right now, you could hear it opening up all the way from the cargo bay.”

  “I’m sure you’ll fix it. You’re very good at repairing hopeless things.” She tugged his sleeve, needing his gaze on her when she spoke. She loved the way his eyes glittered with interest when he looked at her, and hoped that spark would never fade. “My sire would have been abundantly impressed with you.”

  “Yeah?” His dimples deepened, and somehow she suppressed the compulsion to press her thumbs into the notches. Being so near him and not having her hands on him was a trial. She didn’t care if she wasn’t behaving like a well-mannered Jekhan woman who kept her hands to herself and buried her true feelings so deep that she couldn’t find them. She wanted what she wanted, and she deserved to get her first choice for a change.

  “Mmm. Father always had a great deal of respect for people who could make things. Perhaps you could teach Elken?”

  “I’ll certainly try.” Marco took her by the arm and guided her up the ramp and into the ship. Then he stood in silence, waiting for the door to crank shut.

  “No Edgar? He always calls out when someone enters the ship.” She was used to hearing his voice echo overhead.

  “He said something earlier about catching up with some folks in town, but I think he’s really keeping an eye on Eileen. Best he can do, I guess. She was going to help paint the bar.”

  “Ah.” Sera smoothed her sweaty palm down her skirt and followed him down the corridor.

  “Shit,” he muttered and picked up speed, but she couldn’t see the cause of his distress. His body blocked her view of what was ahead, and there were no sounds to hint to what had agitated him.

  “What the hell were you thinking, man?”

  When Marco knelt, she saw what had triggered his concern.

  Jasper slumped against the wall outside the room he’d been occupying. His hair was sodden with sweat and his face red with useless exertion. He’d evidently tried to leave, but his body wouldn’t let him.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Jasper emitted a cough that didn’t sound complete, followed by a ragged expulsion of air. “Just leave me, man. I’ll be out of your way in a bit.”

  “Shut up with that shit.” Marco held the basket out to Sera.

  After a moment’s stunned delay, she took the handle, and moved out of the way as he slipped his hands beneath Jasper’s body and hauled him up. A supremely powerful motion. Jasper wasn’t a small man by
any stretch of the imagination. “What was he doing?” she asked.

  “Being stupid.” Marco carried him into the room and set him on the bed in as forceful a drop as he could manage without actually hurting the man. “How far did you actually think you’d be able to go, huh? You can hardly walk yourself to the bathroom to take a piss. Were you going to walk the two miles to the road and hitchhike to Little Gitano, or were you gonna wait for some aliens to abduct you and get you there?”

  Sera set the basket on the dresser top. “What does ‘hitchhike’ mean?”

  Jasper scoffed. “Don’t make me laugh. My chest hurts too much.”

  Marco picked up a cup holding what looked to be a full dose of Jasper’s painkiller. “Hmm. I wonder why.”

  “It’s gonna make me sleepy, and I can’t sleep and walk at the same time.”

  “You can’t walk anyway.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, I actually don’t. Nothing about what you were trying to do seemed to be very well thought-out. Your common sense array is obviously malfunctioning.”

  “Maybe my common sense hasn’t been functioning so great since I arrived on this rock.” He took a deep breath. The graying cast to his usually swarthy skin was worrying, as was the persistent shaking of the hands that he tried futilely to grip the top of the covers with.

  “Geisht.” She skirted around Marco and pulled the blanket up to Jasper’s chin.

  “Give me twenty minutes, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “Shut up with that,” Marco said.

  “I’m not trying to be where I’m not welcome.”

  “Who said you weren’t welcome?”

  “Come on, man. We don’t have to pretend this is normal. We don’t have to act like nothing happened. I understand. Really.”

  “And to think, I thought I was the only one suffering from self esteem issues,” Marco muttered. He strode to the door, grabbed the basket from the dresser, and took it to the bedside. “Told you I was going to bring you dinner.”