Starfall (Starflight #2)(23)

“You don’t know that.”

“Damn it, Kane, I do know that. And let me tell you what else I know: your safety was the only thing I had to hold on to. If they had tortured you to death while I listened, I wouldn’t have survived it.”

That seemed to get through to him, because he stood an inch taller.

“It’s a miracle you weren’t there. It saved us both.” She moved close enough to deliver a light shove to his chest. “So stop acting like I’m broken. I’m not.”

“Ouch,” he said, teasingly rubbing the spot on his chest. “Don’t I know it.”

“So you’ll treat me the same as before?”

Mischief flickered in his gaze. He turned to face the stove and told her, “Quit jabbering and set the table, Your Royal Colonial Highness. Breakfast isn’t going to serve itself.”

Smiling, she strode to the cabinet and pulled out five bowls. Now that she and Kane had cleared the air, she searched for a safe topic.

“How’s your mom?”

“You mean aside from losing her job and everything she owns?”

“Aside from that,” Cassia said tersely, plunking down a bowl with extra force. “I already promised to reinstate her as soon as I can afford to.”

“She’s fine.” He stirred the porridge and lowered the heat to let it simmer. “Or that’s what she told me. There was something off about her yesterday. She seemed jumpy.”

“That’s understandable.” Cassia found her favorite mug and peered around Kane to see if the coffee carafe was full. “It was probably an emotional day for her, seeing you for the first time in so long.”

“I guess,” he mumbled, taking the mug from her. He filled it with coffee and added three squirts of vanilla syrup and a pinch of cinnamon, just the way she liked it. “Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t tell her too much.” As he handed back the mug, he peered at her with a cautious expression that tripped her internal alarm. “By the way, I have to talk to you about something.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“But first you have to promise not to freak out.”

“Has that ever saved you in the past?”

“Point taken.” He took a deep breath and blurted, “Gage Spaulding offered me a job.”

An instant smile sprang to her lips. “That’s great!”

“Really?” He looked as though he didn’t believe her. “You’re not angry?”

“Why would I be angry? This is perfect! There’s not a clerk in the kingdom who negotiates like you do. If you’re Gage’s liaison, you can get us a discount on Infinium. We’re going to need a lot of it to power the construction equipment if we want to rebuild.”

For a moment, he just watched her. “It’s not that kind of job, Cassy.”

“What kind, then?”

“He wants me on his sales team. He’s building a barracks near his compound as a sort of home base, but I’d be doing a lot of traveling, mostly in the third sector.”

“So you wouldn’t live here at all?”

“I could visit. But, no, I wouldn’t live here.”

“You turned him down, right?”

He cocked his head in offense. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on. You can’t possibly take this job.”

“Actually, I can,” he said, gripping his hips. “And I plan to, as soon as…” He looked down at his bare feet. “As soon as things calm down around here.” Before she could ask what things he was referring to, guilt flitted across his face and he delivered the same pity-filled glance as before. “I want to make sure you’re okay first. You’ve been through a lot. I’ll be here for you for as long as you need me.”

It was a good thing she felt too stunned for anger, otherwise he would’ve been wearing her coffee. “None of this makes sense. Why would you take an off-world job? We’re home now. It’s what we always wanted.”

“It’s what you always wanted. Did it ever occur to you that I was happier on this ship? The Banshee’s no palace, but at least here we were equals.”

“We’re equals now.”

He barked a laugh. “Sure we are, Your Majesty.”

“I never treated you like a subject,” she insisted as she set down her mug. “Not one time in all the years we’ve been friends. My title didn’t bother you before we ran away, so it shouldn’t bother you now. Nothing’s changed.”

Kane seemed somber, almost sad, when he said, “Everything’s changed.”

Suddenly, she detected movement in her periphery, and she glanced at the top of the doorway to find a ball of auburn fur perched there. It was Acorn. Cassia had forgotten all about her. With a gleeful chirp, the sugar glider launched into the air, spreading her tiny arms wide to sail toward Cassia’s waiting hands.

“Oh, sweet girl, I went off and left you.” As she nuzzled a patch of soft fur, she imagined how terrified Acorn must’ve felt when her “mother” disappeared. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“She was a basket case that first week,” Kane said. “Then Solara started wearing your coat and that helped. Acorn likes having your scent.”