Page 74 of Perfection

“Well, thank you,” he said with a chuckle.

“Nanny, you can remain in the room with Brianna,” Kindra instructed.

“That’s a good idea,” the robot replied, giving a commonly prescribed answer.

Kindra went to the first bedroom and placed Brianna’s overnight satchel inside. “I like this room,” Brianna said, then ran over and jumped up onto the bed. “Good night!”

In the kitchen, York went to the InstaCafé and ordered a cup of coffee and a slice of chocolate cake. One of the great perks of the place was it was always well stocked with a variety of food. He set his computer on the end table in the living area and took his bag to the back bedroom. On his return, he paused in the first bedroom doorway while Kindra tucked in her daughter. His heart grew heavy as he watched, recalling those early years. It seemed like a lifetime ago. He sighed.

He and Kindra went out into the hall, and she closed the door behind them.

“Will she be okay? She isn’t frightened, is she?”

She shook her head. “No. She sleeps well.”

“My son used to have night terrors,” he said by way of explanation. He swallowed quickly and turned away. “Your room is next door.”

“Good. I’d like to stay close to her. Thank you.”

His eyes held hers for an awkward second, and then she seemed to pay particular attention to his mouth. “Okay, good night.”

“I’m having a snack. Would you like something?”

“I don’t think so. Good night.”

As he strolled back to the living room, he imagined what it would feel like to languish on the sofa and hold her in his arms.

Instead, he sat and dug into the chocolate cake, sipping coffee. He needed to go over his notes. What was he missing? He downloaded Vi’s notes and combed over them. She had found a connection to one of the tracers. It belonged to a small media center, Hometown News and a reporter by the name of Gina Walls. There were also some shots of Gina at the Mall’s doll store.

At eleven o’clock, he reached for the doorknob to his room and glanced down the hall. He could see her bedroom door and, unfortunately, she wasn’t standing in it. Otherwise, he just might have suggested she sleep in his room, share his bed.

No, that was his hormones talking. He went inside and closed himself in, away from her and temptation. She was a GEI. Forbidden. He knew that, but he struggled to resist her.

He stripped, showered, and climbed beneath the covers. His breathing grew shallow as he listened for any sign of her, his heart rate accelerated, a hard-on swelled in false anticipation. Knowing Kindra was nearby was sheer torture. He reclined with arms extended over his head, staring at the dark ceiling. When this case was over, maybe he should find a compatible woman and perhaps try marriage again.

He hated the uncertainty, the not knowing, the not being accepted for who and what he was—a Coder.

He didn’t think he’d fall asleep, but when he finally did, it was with dreams of a beauty with blond hair and aqua-blue eyes, a woman who opened her heart and life to him.

He woke abruptly at two in the morning thinking of Kindra. Knowing full well that sleep would be impossible, he got up and padded downstairs to the basement workroom. The light came on automatically as he entered. It wasn’t just his stuff here, many of the detectives kept projects to pass the time when they were holed up for days or weeks with a case. Most were computer generated, games and such. His were hands-on tinkering stuff. He liked fixing things. His small cabinet set in the corner was stocked with his latest projects, abandoned when duty called. He opened the double doors above the desk cabinet and picked up where he’d left off, soldering an automatic cooling system. He hadn’t touched the project in months.

Time could be a fickle mistress. He’d been on this case for a week. Had it been that long since he’d become embroiled in this genetic mess? Or since he’d first laid eyes on Kindra B-Zaika? His heart did a stupid flip-flop at the thought of her perfect figure and flawless rosy cheeks.

Returning to his work, he applied flux onto the solder joints and positioned the soldering iron, allowing the solder to heat the joints. The hot smell of melted flux and molten solder wafted around him. He soldered a few more joints, then sat back to inspect his work. Behind him, he heard the soft sound of footfalls. He glanced around.

“What are you doing?” Kindra asked.

“Working on a project. I’m fixing an old circuit board. Go back to bed.”

“You’re not sleeping,” she countered.

“I have too much on my mind.” It was the truth. Of course, he wasn’t about to share the fact that she occupied a vital part of his thoughts.

She sauntered over to prop a hip on an adjoining worktable.

“Careful. This stuff will burn your skin off.”

She inched back a little. He continued to work, even with her watching him. “You have strong hands,” she said.