Wanderlust Read Free

Then she grins. “And we’re just the suckers to do it. How bad could it be?”

    I stare at her. “Why do you have to say shit like that? Seriously. Why?”

    “Because it makes you nervous?”

    “Big deal,” I mutter. “Everything makes me nervous. It’s a wonder I haven’t developed a tic.”

    “You have,” March puts in, ever helpful. “Your left eye sort of—”

    “Thanks, baby. You’re a gem.”

    He smirks, the expression that used to make me want to slap him. Now it makes me want to tie him up and do things to him until he says he’s sorry.

    “We should check with the Chancellor’s assistant. I’m sure they have an itinerary for us,” he adds.

    I shrug. “We have twenty-four hours. After all this, they owe us some rec time.”

    For once Dina agrees with me. “Do they ever. This place is a dump.” She dismisses the sterile conference room with four blank bisque walls with a contemptuous gesture. “Isn’t there anything to do here?”

    Thinking back to my training days, I try to remember. “Not by Gehenna or even Venice Minor standards. But there are a few good bars in Wickville over on the west side. At least there used to be. Place called Quincy’s had a trio that played folkazz, good stuff. But remember, I’ve been gone a long time—”

    I find myself talking to her back. If I know her at all, she’ll catch a lift over to where she’s likely to find a party and leave the details up to us. Our ship’s mechanic lives for a good time and makes no bones about it.

    Oddly, I respect her for that. Dina doesn’t dwell on everything she’s lost. The woman surpasses me in that regard, but she doesn’t brood over it. Doesn’t use it like a weapon to make other people feel sorry for her.

    Without a word, March pulls me into his arms. I hope nobody else needs the conference room because it doesn’t feel like he’s letting go anytime soon. He rests his cheek against the top of my stubbly head. Just after we landed on New Terra—before the bounty hunter snatched me—my crewmates decided I’d be less recognizable without my hair. I still can’t believe they shaved my head for nothing.

    March tightens his arms around me, and I luxuriate in his heat. This separation has been harder on him than on me because first he thought I was dead, and then before he could make the mental adjustment, they quarantined us to prepare for our testimonies.

    A shudder runs through him. “Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll wake up and you won’t be here.”

    Part of me—the part that’s still raw over losing Kai— wants to back away from such unabashed need. I’m afraid I can’t handle it, that I’ll hurt him again like I did on Gehenna. Part of me needs him every bit as much, though. I’m afraid of that, too. I wasn’t always such a contrary bundle of fears. That’s new.

    I like the person I am now, though. Jax the nav-star didn’t care for anyone but Kai, certainly didn’t care about the state of the universe or acting in the interest of the greater good. I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a hero like March, but I want to try. Not for the fame and glory but because I want to leave something behind that matters more than the number of jumps I made. I want things to be better because of me. He lifts his head, and his gaze meets mine.

    “I’m not going anywhere,” I say aloud, though it isn’t a surety I can truly offer. Life is precarious, and it turns in a flash. As if he knows this, his lips drift over mine, delicately possessive. His kiss sparks a chemical reaction, endorphins careening wildly.

    Lifting his head, March exhales slowly. “You want to—”

    A throat clears behind us. “We have a meeting scheduled,” someone says in the polite tone that conceals amusement.

    We break apart like kids caught necking on the front doorstep. I smile over that as we hurry out of 7-J. Once we get some distance down the hall, I pause and gaze up at him. He’s no prettier than when I first