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Chapter Seven
The clothes felt itchy on her skin, but the soft silk dress was just whispering over spots where he had gnawed gently.
Denier had done a good job stocking the kitchen, so she made dinner because she wanted to do anything while on her feet. Meatloaf and mashed potatoes with a side of greens.
Denier sat at the counter and watched. “You really know how to cook?”
“I hope so, or this is going to be a bit awkward in an hour.” Her legs ached, but it was nice to be on her feet.
“Can you give me a list of anything that I didn’t bring?”
She chuckled. “Is that a hint that I am not to leave the house?”
“Please. I am working on getting you a security detail. You aren’t safe.”
Brit paused. “I can ask Zera if there is anyone of the girls who can act as a guard when they aren’t dating anyone.”
“A female?”
“Yeah. The guys are still scarce.”
“Is there that kind of power in an escort?”
Brit shrugged. “I can ask.”
She opened her com and contacted Zera. The conversation was quick and satisfying.
Denier blinked. “Really? A plasma active?”
“She’s asking. We will know in a few minutes.”
“I am just wondering who would dare date a plasma active?”
Brit shrugged. “Someone sturdy and fire retardant.”
Her com went off, and she gave the location.
Zera nodded.“Expect her in two hours. She has to pack and catch the ferry.”
Brit smiled and thanked her, closing the call. She grinned at Denier. “Bodyguard in two hours.”
He sighed. “I sincerely hope she is alert and nimble. You are a very desirable target.”
“Litha is... well. You will see.”
She puttered around and made a shortcake that waited until the meatloaf was done.
“There are wall ovens.” Denier pointed.
Brit looked. “Holy shit. I thought those were only on TV cooking shows.”
She figured out how to set the temperature and double-checked that there was nothing inside the oven.
“Why did you look?”
“My mom would always hide dishes in the oven when she had guests. I just wanted to make sure it was clear.”
He chuckled, and a few minutes later, she put in the shortcake, and then, she shoved the steamed potatoes and masher to him, giggling when the cream and butter squirted up on his first jab. He soon got into a rhythm, and she worked on the gravy.
