“And it would pass ‘Total Nudity Not Allowed,’” Kris and Jack ended saying together.
“I think we got a dirty look from that topless gal behind you,” Jack said.
“I know you got a nasty look from two of the gals behind you.”
“Think it’s time we beat a strategic retreat?”
“Even if that does sound like you’re talking shop,” Kris admitted.
Jack pulled Kris’s chair back, like a good gentleman. Their table was as far from the door as you could get, so they would be passing a lot of well-tanned flesh on the way out. Kris had done a perp walk in cuffs. She’d been paraded for good and bad reasons enough times to have lost count. She set a smile on her face and did the best she could to look each and every man and woman in the eye as she passed them.
“Hold it,” one of the guys said, half-standing. “Aren’t you the gal, the commander that was on TV?”
“Yes,” Kris said, coming to a halt. “I’m from the Wasp in orbit, and I did talk to one of the Alwans’ news stations.”
“I saw you,” several people said, now muttering to each other.
“You blew that huge alien ship out of space and saved all our lives,” a barely dressed woman said.
Kris shook her head. “A lot of people were involved in stopping that raiding party. Most of them died for our effort. I’m one of the lucky few that survived.”
A woman stood, one of those in short short shorts, and a very short tank top. “We owe all of you our lives. Thank you.”
The wave of thank-yous was followed by a round of applause. Kris gave them her best princess smile and bowed her reply as she tried not to run for the door. She kept her pace down, and Jack stayed right behind her.
At the door, the owner waited. “I’m sorry about this. Granny Rita said you wanted your privacy. I don’t watch much TV. I didn’t think my clients did either. If you want, I’ll have your meals taken to your cabin.”
“Give me a night to think about that,” Kris said, just wanting to be gone. He stood aside, and she fled into the night.
She found herself holding on to a tree before they were halfway back to their cottage. She had to hold on, her knees weren’t doing that support thing they’d been doing since she was a toddler.
Jack scooped her up and carried her. “Where do you want to go? The cottage or the beach?”
“The beach,” Kris whispered against his shoulder.
He settled her on dry sand this time. The tide was high, the breakers close. Kris squeaked and backed up on all fours as a high one tried to wet her down.
“Sorry about that,” Jack said as he settled down beside her farther up the beach.
For a long time, they just watched the breakers come in and roll back out again. A shooting star cut across the inky black sky. The other stars, with no competition from city lights, were as bright and proud as Kris had ever seen them from space.
“Why is it so hard to accept a thank-you?” she finally asked the eternal ocean.
Jack did not speak for another couple of waves, one of which wet Kris’s toes, but she stood her ground, and the ocean dared go no farther.
“Maybe it’s hard to take because you know the thank-you belongs to not just you but a whole lot of people who worked, sweat, bled and, in too many cases, died. But, honey, you are Princess Longknife, ComPatRon 10, and there are not a lot of other people alive to accept the thanks.”
“Gramma Ruth says that somewhere along the way, Grampa Ray lost his humanity. Grampa Trouble says he’s still human, thanks to Gramma Ruth.”
“I can believe that.”
“It’s a hell of a job to keep a Longknife human. The legend wants to eat us up.”
“I’ve heard that. I’m still willing to interview for the job. I’ll do it if you’ll accept me?”
“If I really love you, is it fair to let you take such an impossible job?”
Waves rolled in, broke in phosphorescent beauty, and slid back out several times before Jack cleared his throat. “I’ve shared your world for nearly five years, haven’t I?”
Kris nodded agreement.
“In that time, I’ve come to love you. To only want the very best for you. Believe it or not, from where I’ve stood, stuck on the sidelines, I’ve done my best for you.”
“I believe you, Jack.”
“Honey, I think you love me as much as I love you. It’s hard to believe a beautiful, powerful, competent woman like you can love me, but you’ve given me a few hints that it just might be possible.”
“Very possible. Almost certainly. No. Definitely,” Kris said.
“But you’re a Longknife. To some people, that means wealth and power. To other folks it means danger. In all cases, it means target. May I point out that for the last four years, I’ve grown as good at making them miss me as I have at making sure they miss you.”
“And you haven’t gotten nearly the medals you deserve for that,” Kris said.
“I’d swap all the medals in the book for a simple gold band to put on your finger.”
“Jack, you’re too good to believe.”
“And I thought you were the one too good for me to ever find.”
“Most men find me, get a good look at what happens around me, and run, not walk, for the door. Or pick one of the girls around me.”
“Yes, I know,” Jack said. “I’ve had to sweat a couple of them in the last few years. Fortunately for me, they all bolted.”
“Fortunate for you, but a bit hard on me.”
“I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”
“No it didn’t. I know what you meant.” Kris used the hem of her muumuu to wipe her eyes. “Jack, I’m exhausted. Could we go to bed?”
“Yes, honey. Do you need a lift?”
“No, just give me a hand up and a strong shoulder to lean on.”
“Always, love.”
Even in the dark, they had no problem finding their cottage. The moon was up, the stars were bright, and the ocean gave its own green light. The only light in the cottage was a small lit candle. Kris found that whoever had lit the candle had also tossed a rather skimpy nightgown on one side of the bed. Jack found soft sleeping shorts on his, and dismissed himself to the bathroom to change.
It took Kris just a second to toss the muumuu over her head and slip into the gown. It didn’t quite go halfway to her knees, and the top was so open she could easily pull it aside if she didn’t toss it off entirely.
Well, if elves were appearing and disappearing, she might have them do some wash. She left the muumuu on the porch chair and tumbled into bed.
A moment later, Jack appeared and blew out the candle. He stepped outside, very likely to leave his shorts and shirt on the same chair with Kris’s muumuu.
Kris had pulled the covers up a bit, not enough to turn herself into an unapproachable mummy, but Jack settled above the covers, his front to her back. He slipped an arm over her shoulder that easily managed to miss what she claimed for breasts.
“Don’t you want to do something more tonight?” she asked. She knew the answer to that. She could feel him through the thin blanket and even thinner gown.
“I don’t think so, dear. It’s been a long day. You’ve been through a lot, and let’s face it, you’re exhausted. You need your sleep a lot more than you need anything else.”
“No, I don’t,” Kris said . . . through a yawn.
“I rest my case,” Jack said.
“But what I’m feeling from you isn’t at rest.”
“You want me to roll over?” Jack asked, ever the gentle gentleman.
“Please don’t. I want you close.”
“And I always will be,” he said.
Kris settled comfortably in Jack’s protective arms. She remembered something about checking in with her team. Letting them know about something. She was asleep before she could remember what it was.
12
Kris came awake the next morning to the sound of birds chirping, the roar of the ocean, and the smell of fresh coffee.