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Colonel Slater must have been informed immediately. His reprimand stung as harshly as my old owner’s beatings. His words blistered as he informed me I could have gotten the entire program canceled.
“What if she didn’t want your attention? Did you consider even for a moment that you might not have read her signals right? That she might not want to kiss a…” His words died out, but the look on his face spoke volumes. The ending to his unfinished sentence rang in my head. What if she hadn’t wanted to kiss a splicer? An abomination? An atrocity like myself?
I got his message loud and clear. Leave the females alone. They weren’t brought here to pair off with us. They’re here to help us socialize, so eventually we can leave our confinement and walk free in the world.
“We were trying to prevent in public exactly what happened in that kitchen. The only thing stopping me from eliminating you from the program is that it was obvious in the video that she allowed you to kiss her. Although who knows how willing she was? She was likely afraid to refuse.”
He frowned, shaking his head. He’s strict, a male who follows the rules, but he didn’t seem angry. He wasn’t leashing a desire to beat me. He simply seemed… disappointed.
“She’s off limits, Noble,” he continued. “As of this moment. You will not sit with her in the dining hall. You will not work with her in her bakery. You will not speak to her again. Not even any eye contact. Is that clear?”
Although that was ten days ago and his words are still ringing in my ears, perhaps Jenna received no such talking to. Though I try to avoid eye contact, I feel her gaze on me whenever we’re in the same room together. Like right this minute.
We’re in the Town Hall. All the females are giving updates on their projects. Riley has updated us on the types of books she’s bought for the small library she’s put together in the rec room located between the male and female dorms. She also shares her excitement about the name she’s picked for the bookstore she wants to open next to Jenna’s bakery on Main Street, Between the Covers.
Lucy has given an update on the ice cream flavors she’s chosen for the ice cream shop she’s decided to call Wild About Ice Cream. She’s prickly, that one. She’s not trying to soften any rough edges, which we males are constantly urged to do.
When she takes her seat, the Colonel calls Jenna to the lectern for her report.
Jenna expresses her annoyance the moment after she mounts the three steps of the dais.
“Things are going slower than planned. In addition to having a heck of a time ordering kitchen appliances because of the difficulty maneuvering around the net nanny, I’ve been deprived of my tutee.”
When her comment is met with giggles, she squares her shoulders and says, “It’s a word. I looked it up. And it’s not funny. The bakery was a complete mess and I’ve had to do most of the cleaning myself, not to mention the ordering, the remodeling choices, and boatloads of baking to test recipes.”
She glances at me. It’s the first time in ten days I’ve been allowed to look at her. I’ve studied human facial expressions. If I’m not mistaken, two emotions are warring inside her—anger and hurt. Did she not receive the same lecture I did? Has she been wondering for over a week if I’m the one who asked to be removed as her, what did she call it, tutee?
“I need a helper.”
She’s glaring at me now. I imagine her hurt and anger grew, day after day, as she wondered why I would ask to be removed from her tutelage. And it was right after that kiss. That amazing, blistering kiss that has haunted both my waking and dreaming thoughts.
“I volunteer.” I say it loud and proud, then double down by standing up. No one in the room, including Colonel Slater, will be able to ignore my statement. Just to ensure there is no doubt about my intentions, I repeat it. “I would love to help Jenna get her bakery ready to serve the community.”
For the first time in ten days, our gazes meet. Those pretty brown eyes spark with an unreadable emotion, then what I can only imagine is attraction blazes to life within me. It blasts through me hotter and faster than the lash of a whip. Only this isn’t pain. It’s pure pleasure to feel that connection again.
“Terrific!” Jenna says as she stands taller, unwilling to wait for the Colonel to give his blessing. “Let’s meet in the kitchen after this meeting. There’s so much to do.”
Chapter Thirteen
Jenna
I can be such an idiot sometimes. I’ve been warring with myself for over a week, vacillating between feeling inadequate about myself and furious at Noble.
It’s not new, this ever-present feeling of not being good enough. That’s why my initial thoughts were that somehow our kiss didn’t blow him away as it did me.
There were times I wondered if the powers that be had intervened. It was clear their intentions for this program weren’t to make it an episode ofThe Bachelor. I doubt they wanted us to pair off, but come on, what did they expect when they threw males and females together to work in close quarters?
But Noble’s decision to sit at the men’s-only table was a pretty clear rejection. Women aren’t allowed over there. I watched him day after day, meal after meal, eating alone because all the other males were happily sitting in the co-ed area, desperately waiting for a female to talk to them.
It was his refusal to even look at me that was the deciding factor, though. What was I to think other than that he wanted nothing to do with me? And damn, that kiss was so freaking amazing.
Maybe the males’ odd DNA is contagious, because I think my sense of smell has been enhanced. Sometimes I get what I suspect is a whiff of him. My enjoyment of that masculine, musky scent has now surpassed my appreciation of the scent of baked goods. It’s enticing.
After accepting Noble’s offer of help, I don’t wait for the Colonel to override it. Instead, I march my happy little ass off the stage and waltz over to sit right next to the sexy lion-man. His gaze is still on the stage, but his hand almost reaches to grab mine. He snatches it back a moment before fur touches flesh, then he manspreads just wide enough for his khaki-clad thigh to graze mine.
To erase any doubt that he’s happy to work with me again, his gentle purr vibrates through the air. It’s music to my ears.
We pretend to be attentive as the last few women give their reports, then we calmly leave to travel the raised wooden sidewalk to the bakery.
