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“Ah, but I like to be alone with my thoughts, too.” His thumb rubs against my neck again and he leans in. “And I would much rather be alone with you than spending time with anyone else. Do not fret. We will figure out a good balance that will allow us to be alone together and to spend time with the others.”
“All right.” He’s standing close to me, so close that I can feel his warmth. I want to kiss him, but he’s dangerously close to tipping that bowl of food over. I gesture at it. “Should we hurry up and eat while it’s warm?”
Because once we’re done eating, I want to do naughty things to him.
We duck into our hut and settle in near the embers of the fire pit. It always impresses me how quickly a fire can be brought back to life from the coals, and with a few nudges and a bit of fuel, R’jaal has a cozy flame going again. We wash up and then eat, passing the spoon back and forth as we take bites. He tells me about his day, how he’d taken one of the “taters” out with him, and one of the females who’d insisted upon tagging along.
“They argued the entire time,” he tells me with a shake of his head. “Worse than kits. I do not know how they expect to catch anything when they are raising their voices at each other all day.”
I try not to laugh at just how disgusted he seems. “It’s a learning process. They’ll figure it out eventually.” At his disgruntled shake of his head, I offer, “Maybe they don’t want to hunt but feel they have to?”
“No one has to hunt. As long as you are not a burden to the tribe, you will be fed and clothed. We do not force the kits into the snows the moment they can hold a spear, after all.”
“That’s different and you know it,” I point out softly. “They could be afraid they’ll be kicked out if they don’t do everything asked of them. Talk to them about it, make sure that hunting is something they really want to do, and then if they say yes, point out that they need to shut up.”
R’jaal grunts, scraping the last spoonful of stew and offering it to me. “I am just frustrated because I was away from my mate all day. For that.”
Aww. “Be as patient with them as you are with me.”
The look he gives me could peel paint. “It is different with you.”
“Because you want to get into my pants?” It takes everything I have not to laugh aloud. He’s so grumpy right now. It’s adorable. Biting back my smile, I eat the last bite of stew that he saved for me and set the spoon down in the bowl.
“I do not want to wear your pants. They would not fit properly.” R’jaal shakes his head and takes the dishes, adding a bit of water so we can clean them later. “And I would prefer you out of them.”
This time, I can’t stop my giggles. “You are adorable.”
“I said something wrong again, eh?” His expression changes to one of wry amusement. “If I make you smile, then I am not sorry.” He sets the bowl aside and then slides closer to me, his tail wrapping around my waist. “But you are right. I will talk to them. Explain that life here does not have to be all work and hardship. If they are not called to hunting, perhaps they are called to something else.”
“Like making books?” I say lightly, though I feel tense the moment I bring it up.
R’jaal nods. “Just so. If it is what your heart desires and it does not take food out of the mouths of kits, where is the harm? D’vi likes to cut open dead things and stare at their guts for long periods of time. U’dron and his mate like to make music. But D’vi and her mate also fish. U’dron and R’ven fish and hunt together. They share their extra skins with the tribe. We all help each other out.” He pulls my fur poncho over my head and tosses it aside, the romantic look sparking in his eyes. “And you have me to hunt for you.”
“I want to learn how to hunt, too. Eventually. Maybe not yet, but soon.”
He shrugs, tugging at the laces of my tunic top. “There is no hurry.”
“I just want you to know that I’m going to try harder. I want to be a better mate to you.”
R’jaal glances up at me, confused. “You are already the best mate.”
My heart squeezes with affection. “I’ve been moping—”
“No,” he corrects gently, and pulls my tunic over my head. “You have been struggling.”
I’m left in nothing but my breast band and my pants, and when he gives me an appreciative look, I feel good. Pretty. “That’s a very kind way of looking at it.”
