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The sound of them breaching the water, then retreating below the surface combines with birds calling from nearby trees. It’s as if nature is providing background music for us.
The warm summer breeze caresses my face, and I relax as Jenna lays her head on my shoulder while she gazes at this tranquil landscape. I wonder if my fur tickles her cheek as we bask in nature’s beauty all around us.
The scent of wildflower blooms lingers faintly in the air, competing for my attention with Jenna’s scent.
There were so many things over the last few days I wanted to share with her, and questions I wanted to ask, but I can do that later. This moment in nature, with the scant weight of her head on my pec and the sounds and smells of nature surrounding us, is more important than words.
We take it in contentedly until wordlessly deciding it's time to return home. It’s been an unforgettable moment filled with a connection deeper than I ever expected to find with another soul.
Chapter Fifteen
Jenna
Last night when Noble and I returned from those wonderful stolen moments at the lake, we defiantly sat in the co-ed section in the dining room. All the anger and hurt that had been building in me during our enforced separation disappeared as we laughed with our new friends.
I don’t want to hear the details of the hybrids’ childhood and captivity because it breaks my heart, but I never ask them to be quiet about it. It’s part of their healing process.
In the three years since their release, they’ve developed an easy camaraderie. It’s a blast hearing them laugh and joke and tease each other. They all got a kick out of Nyx volunteering to help Amber. It took me a moment to find the humor in it, but one glance should have tipped me off. Nagas have no hair and Amber is a hairdresser! I have to admit. It’s funny.
Olivia, who is opening a retail clothes store near my bakery, seems to be getting close to Ty, the male who clearly has tiger DNA. She’s helping him and some of the other splicers with a dance they hope to perform for all of us.
Ty looks at Olivia as if she hung the moon. Perhaps I should catch her later tonight in the women’s dorm and ask, but it sure seems the feeling is mutual. Have I been in such a deep funk these last few days I didn’t notice that Noble and I aren’t the only ones who’ve developed an attraction?
I return my attention to the present. Noble and I are in the barracks’ kitchen preparing for Baking 101.
“Cooking is fun, right? You could zhuzh that omelet in a thousand different ways.” When he cocks his head, I elaborate. “Spinach, cheese, salsa, sausage, ham, asparagus, broccoli, onions, peppers—”
“Got it.”
I guess I got a little carried away.
“Measuring is important in some recipes, but often you can wing it. For example, we just eyeballed how much cheese we put on your eggs the other day.”
He nods, listening so intently it’s as if his life depends on it. Perhaps I should lighten up. I want him to love working in the kitchen as much as I do.
“But in baking? Measuring is super important. A little extra salt or too little flour can change not only the taste but the consistency.”
Again, I get his most serious nod. I got my point across. Now how do I get him to lighten up?
I’ve already set the bins of flour and sugar on the wide work counter, with eggs, butter, and other ingredients next to them. All the supplies are here. What’s blissfully missing? Our chaperones.
“Yes. Baking is a serious affair,” I continue. “I probably gave you the wrong impression the other day when I made cooking omelets so fun. Let’s get down to business.”
Oh my god, he’s so freaking adorable as he cocks his head, his mobile ears tipped in my direction as if the secrets of the universe are going to spill from my lips at any minute.
The round plastic flour bin, about ten inches tall, makes a little burp when I pry the lid off.
“Take a good look at it. We have to get acquainted with each of these ingredients. Get up close and personal. Take a good whiff.”
His serious gaze flicks to me. I have to give him credit when he follows my every direction to the letter. Oh well, this will only hurt for a minute.
The moment his big, furred frame is bent over the canister and he eases his head close to the flour, I dunk his face in it. He rises to his full height, his face now covered in white powder, and glares at me. His rounded amber eyes are the only thing on his face that isn’t white.
“Why did you do that?” His voice is a deep growl.
“We need to become intimately acquainted with our ingredients.” I try to say it with a straight face, but break into hysterical laughter.
What a treat to observe the moment his shocked, angry face changes to comprehension. It takes only a moment for him to realize I’m teasing, then it’s terrifying when he gets the clever idea that it’s time for revenge.
