Page 93 of Perfection

Chapter Twenty-two

After York made his rounds at the cryo center, he returned to the precinct to pick Kindra up. “Dinner?” he asked as she slipped into the transporter.

“It’s been a long day. I don’t want you to go through the trouble of cooking again. Let’s pick something up on the way to your place.”

“Anything, in particular, you’d like to eat? Shrimp?”

With an emphatic head shake, she said, “Seafood isn’t my favorite.”

“I thought that was impossible. Who doesn’t like seafood? Think of a yummy dish of Shrimp Scampi with loads of hot, garlic butter with every bite.”

She shook her head again. “Uh-uh.”

“Okay, that’s proof of a major flaw in this genetic engineering stuff.” He waggled his brows.

She would have laughed at his antics had he not struck a nerve. His attempt to put her at ease fell flat and, instead, had the opposite effect. His words reminded her of the differences between them and the fact they’d had an illegal union.

What had she been thinking? Even if ithadfelt so right.

She tipped back her head and closed her eyes. Tension twisted along her back and neck. “We were at a standstill today. No news from Seville. No children added to cryo. No breakthrough. No cure.”

“Tomorrow will be better.”

Pressure and disappointment blended to make her irritable. “No, it won’t. Not until this is over and Brianna is home.”

“How about burgers?” he asked.

“That’s fine.” She really didn’t care as long as he dropped the sticky topic.

As the transporter slowed, she peeked from beneath her eyelashes and glanced about. They went to a drive-thru, one that had a nostalgic look to it that made her think he probably frequented the place. When he asked, she gave him her selections, then closed her eyes. The next she knew, they were in his garage. She must have dozed off.

He unpacked the food and she went through the motions of eating. He didn’t prod her into talking. He let her be with her thoughts and she was thankful. The food didn’t taste nearly as good as what he’d fixed last evening. Oh, fooltar. She shouldn’t even be thinking about last night.

“Would you take me to see Brianna tomorrow?” She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just want to be close to her for a little while.”

“Of course. We can do that.”

“Thanks. If you don’t mind, I’d like to turn in early.”

“Actually…” He paused, searching her eyes. “That’s a good idea. We need the rest. Dealing with the emotional side of this is draining.”

She nodded and tried to ignore the longing she saw in his eyes. “Good night.”

* * *

Kindra went upstairs alone. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed for the media room. As he passed the game room, he couldn’t help glancing inside, even though he told himself not to. As expected, the ping-pong table where they’d made love—no, had sex—caught his eye. After all, it was why he’d looked: to savor the memory.

He took a long drag of his beer and moved on. He sank into a recliner and thumbed through a list of old movies on the screen embedded in the coffee table. He selectedTerminator 4: Salvation. No pretty women, no sex scenes, only a ton of action. Nothing to remind him of Kindra or how good it felt to share an interlude with her last night. He’d watched the film over and over since he was a kid, so it didn’t matter if he fell asleep in the middle of it. That’s what he was counting on.

The credits scrolled up, and the opening scene showed a futuristic 2126 world that was nothing like the world he lived in. He snickered at that as he always did.

The next thing he knew, there was buzzing in his ear. He glanced around until he realized the incessant buzzing wasn’t a bee but his communicator. He looked down at the projected message. It was 4:00 a.m. and the alert was from the cryogenic facility. More infected children had arrived.

Ah, fuck.

He rose and padded to Kindra’s room. Her door was wide open. To some people that might have seemed strange, but he always slept with the door open. He wasn’t sure if the habit came from listening for his son at night or because he had a thing about being able to get out of the house. He shrugged off the thought; it didn’t matter. He took a single step into the room. Kindra slept on her back with her arms thrown over her head, knees bent up with one leg crossed over the other. It was a most unusual position for a most unusual woman. There was nothing sexy about it, but she was extremely appealing nonetheless, reminding him of how self-assured and confident she was.

He rapped his knuckles against the wall. Kindra rolled to her side, blinked her eyes open, and propped herself up onto her elbow.