“For sure.” He nods. “I do get the odd emergency. Take a seat,” he urges, nodding towards the table. Then he puts a plate in front of me.
“This looks great.”
He puts the salt and pepper shakers and some napkins on the table. I watch as he heads to the coffee machine, returning with my coffee, which he places in front of me. It’s in one of those small coffee cups on a little matching saucer. In other words, fancy.
“You can get started,” he says as he walks back to the kitchen.
I do as he says and cut a small piece, putting it into my mouth. My eyes widen. How does he make a few simple ingredients taste this good? When I look up, he’s grinning. “What?” I say around my food.
“I use a dash of cream in the egg and sprinkle in some parmesan with the cheese.”
“This tastes like it can’t be too great for your heart, doctor.”
He laughs. “It’s a damn sight better than those chips and the chocolate you were about to eat.”
“You bought the chocolate for me.”
“As a treat. Not as a meal substitute.” He pours himself a glass of white wine and holds up the bottle to me. I shake my head. He puts the bottle back in the fridge.
I take another bite, savoring the taste. “You can cook for me anytime. If you didn’t already have a kickass job, I would tell you to become a chef.”
He sits across from me. I see him pull in a big noseful of air. “Mmmmm, smells really good.”
“Tastes good too.” I put a large forkful into my mouth. I definitely get the tangy, salty taste of the parmesan.
“I’m not talking about the food.” His eyes are on me.
Shit!
I’m not wearing my usual perfume. He’s talking about me. I swallow down the food almost unchewed, feeling a little off-kilter.
“What’s with all the perfume anyway?” he asks. “Not that you smell bad with it on…it’s just, you don’t need it.”
“I disagree,” I say, shaking my head. “Non-humans shouldn’t be able to know my every emotion. Or whether I’m ovulating or pregnant or happy or sad. You shifters are especially good at picking up on those things.”
“I’m only half shifter, but I guess you’re right.” He shrugs, looking sheepish. “I never thought of it that way. Still, it’s nice to finally pick up on your scent. We are a scent-orientated species. It almost feels wrong not to know someone’s smell. It’s like not knowing their name or how they look.”
“Okay…what do I smell like?” I look over at him.
“It’s spicy and yet feminine. Very much in line with how you look.”
“I look spicy?” I laugh.
He smiles, taking a sip of his wine. “No…that’s not what I mean. Spice is normally associated with men. A spicy cologne or scent.”
“I smell manly…and I look manly.” I widen my eyes. That’s not what I was hoping to hear, although maybe it’s a good thing.
“Not at all. You’re very much a woman.” His eyes seem to dip down to my chest, but then he’s looking at his plate and shoving his fork into his omelet. His green eyes lock back with mine. “You’re hardcore, bad-ass and stubborn…I think I’ve mentioned that before a couple of times. You know your way around a car engine, guns, knives. Bolt may have mentioned that you can drive a car like nobody’s business. I mean, you blew a gasket on your car today…” he grins, then his expression morphs into something else, “and yet you’re all woman, and I mean that in the best possible way.” His voice changes, it seems to get deeper. “Your scent reflects that. Spicy and sweet…not seriously floral…not really fruity either. I know that scent.” His nostrils flare again. I don’t normally like it when non-humans try to scent me, but right now…I almost want to move closer. I want to hear what Lyre has to say. His eyes brighten. “That’s it!” He smiles. “I’m getting orange blossom. We have a whole grove of orange trees on my mother’s land. I grew up there. It’s been a while since I was out there…on that part of the ranch, I mean. I see my mom regularly.”
“You said you’re an only child?”
Lyre nods. “My mom had me when she was quite young. There was a bias against half-breeds like us. Some of the other women from our Weyr, who had become pregnant with others like me, ended up in relationships with dragon shifters. Let’s just say that there were issues.”
“Oh,” I say when he doesn’t elaborate. “What kinds of issues?”
“There were new husbands who couldn’t fully accept their half-breed stepchildren. There was sibling rivalry when more children were born. Dragon shifter children. My mother decided to concentrate her time and energy on raising me. In some ways, I was one of the lucky ones but in others…”
I can see where this is going. It’s written in his eyes. “You were lonely?”
“I guess I was.” He nods. “I never realized it until recently.” He puts food in his mouth and chews, like he’s thinking it through.
“What happened recently?” I finally ask.
“I told you I haven’t dated much and then only casually. If things became too serious, I would break it off, and vice versa as well, since you tend to pick a certain type when you have no intention of committing.”
“That can be lonely.” I nod. I realize I’ve been talking too much again and put some food in my mouth. Talking to Lyre is easy.
“That’s not it, though,” he says. “Up until recently, we were never going to take mates. We didn’t want to procreate. Have more interbred children who don’t belong. It didn’t seem right.”
“But then one of your friends did. This Night guy?”
He nods. “Two of my friends, actually. They’re married now. They both recently had kids. That was never supposed to be on the cards.”
“And now it is.”
He nods. “I’ve seen them together and…” He shrugs.
“You realize how empty your own life is.”
“Exactly.” He picks up his wine and leans back. “You sound like you feel the same.” He lifts his brows.
“God, no!” I snort. “I’ve been too busy hunting terrible creatures to even think about…marriage or children. Heck, even sex, for that matter,” I blurt. “Let alone dating or…kids…?” I shake my head. “Nope…I haven’t given them a second thought.”
He almost looks disappointed, which is crazy. It’s not like he was talking about me just then.
“How long did you say you were with this group of yours? How long have you been hunting bad guys?”
“Seven years.”
His eyes widen. “Seven years… Are you telling me you haven’t had sex in seven years?” He looks bewildered. “Fuck me! That’s a long time…and here I was thinking I was bad.”
“How long has it been for you?” I shouldn’t be asking. I find that I want to know, so I don’t take the question back.
His eyes lift in thought. “It’s been around eight months.”