Thief (20 page)

Jace had been avoiding her like a sink-full of dirty dishes since the transport job. She thought he’d be insistent about that night of kissing, but he hadn’t mentioned it. Boldly, she’d gone to his bunk door and offered herself up for payment, only to be told to go away. Perhaps he thought that if he delayed the payout, she wouldn’t leave. And on that score he was correct. Or maybe he changed his mind and wanted something else from her to pay off her contract to him. She didn’t know and couldn’t try to get a handle on it if he refused to come near her.

Perhaps
that
was why Jace was avoiding her. He didn’t want her to know what was going on in his head. Jace didn’t know that she found reading him increasingly impossible. As her inner turmoil rose, so did his. Frankly, her ability to flat-out read a book became debatable.

As she pondered all of this, Jace entered the kitchen.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, probably drawn from the bridge to the kitchen by the enticing smell of the midnight snack she concocted for herself. She’d heard Bailey begging Jace to go check it out and bring back a bite or two of whatever it was.

“No, I can’t sleep.” Kraft nodded to the stove. “You want one?”

“One what?” Jace cast a dubious glance to the pans on the stove.

She considered. “A moment?”

“Of what?”

“Time.” She flicked off the burners. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and met his gaze. “Throughout that job I could practically feel you worrying about me.”

As Jace looked down into her eyes, she felt the heat of his body against hers. But he backed away.

“Captain, I’ll give you every bit of my share of the job if you’ll just tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.” The cache from the job filled the cargo bay and at even one-fourth its value it would fill all their pockets to overflowing.

“You honestly think you have to pay me to tell you the truth?”

“Do I?”

“It’s complicated,” Jace said.

“The good things always are.” Kraft nodded. “Truth even more so.”

“You want the truth?”

She nodded. “Even if you think it might hurt my feelings.”

“I felt…emasculated.”

Her jaw almost fell off her face. “Why?”

“You’re better than I am.” Jace held her gaze with a deep shame in the depths of his eyes.

“I am not!” It popped out of her mouth automatically.

“You’re a better thief. With one job you’ve made more for my crew than I have in a decade.” He hung his head and turned slightly away.

“Whether that’s true or not, I didn’t do it to show you up.”

“I know. Somehow that only makes it worse.”

His broad shoulders slumped a bit more, making her want to embrace him from behind. But she didn’t, because her coddling him in anyway would only increase his feelings that he’d failed as a man. Kraft felled many a man for his misogynistic arrogance, but Jace’s turmoil was borne of a more basic male pride: he wanted to be her protector and defender—it shamed him utterly that she had become his.

“I’m not better than you,” Kraft said softly. “I have different skills than you do. There’s plenty of things you can do that I can’t.”

“Name one.” Jace kept his back to her.

“You can pee standing up.”

The comment caught him so completely off guard he laughed and faced her. It pleased her to no end to see him smile.

“Anything else?” he asked, chuckling. “I’d hate to think that was my big claim to fame.”

“You’re better at keeping your crew safe,” she pointed out.

He frowned. “That wasn’t your fault. I don’t think I could have fought down a Trifecta either.”

“If I could have one wish granted, it would be that you never have to find out.” Again, she felt an overwhelming urge to touch him and refrained only by fiddling with the pots and pans on the stove.

“You honestly don’t think you’re better than me, do you?”

“I don’t think I’m better than anybody. I think I have my tricks, but that doesn’t make me any more worthy to draw breath than anybody else.” She shrugged. “And frankly, Captain, you did something I couldn’t.”

“What’s that?”

“You saved my life.”

“No, I—”

“If you hadn’t bought me from Trickster…” Her voice trailed off because she really didn’t want to think about what could have happened. “Because of you, my dance didn’t end. And something else—you let me lead. I’ve never allowed what you did. I never let a member of my crew lead a job. I’m a bit too much of a control freak. You don’t seem to have that problem.”

“You pull no punches, do you? Even on yourself.” Jace straightened up a bit, losing that dejected edge.

Kraft smiled, then frowned. “I learned long ago to accept myself for all I am, be it good, bad, or ugly. I’m far from perfect, and I make terrible mistakes, but I strive to learn from them.” Lord on high, she sounded like a woman with a lot of therapy under her belt.

Jace looked at her for a long time. “Would you consider this a mistake?” He stepped close and lowered his head.

By a breath, his lips brushed hers. Her resolve not to let him kiss her wavered as her hunger to taste him became uncontrollable. Throwing caution to the wind, she lifted her face.

“What the hell is that smell?” Heller asked from the kitchen doorway.

Jace stepped back from Kraft, cursing Heller with every swear word Heller had ever spoken. He’d been so close to kissing her that his whole body surged with thwarted desire.

Kraft relit the burners of the stove.

Jace touched her hand, softly, as if to convey they would take this up at another time, then turned to Heller. “A victory surprise.”

“A celebration party,” Kraft agreed, nodding to his brief touch.

It pleased him to no end that she didn’t flinch away. Whatever darkness she’d once felt had apparently been altered. He wondered if things had changed because he understood that darkness better and had even come to accept it as a part of himself.

Capping his anger over being denied kissing Kraft again, Jace walked over and slapped the kitchen wall com. “This is the Captain, I need all hands in the galley.”

Bailey wandered in and took a seat at the table across from Heller.

Garrett ran into the room with big eyes as he strapped his holster to his hips. “We under attack?” His brown hair practically stood on end.

“Well, the sandwiches I’m making are likely to give you a heart attack, but that’s probably a few years down the road,” Kraft said.

Payton and Charissa laughed from the doorway.

“Come on in and join the party,” Jace said. Getting everyone in the room forced him to put a damper on his raging hormones. But still, he wanted to kiss Kraft so badly he could barely keep his gaze off her mouth. By a damn breath he’d missed his opportunity.

Everyone gathered around the table while he stood watching Kraft in the kitchen.

“What are you making?” Bailey asked. “It smells incredible.”

Kraft said something in German.

“One more time, in Universal, please,” Payton said.

“Hamburgers with fried eggs.”

Kraft worked the stove like a virtuoso. She slung spatulas and pans and in all her fury she created a stack of sandwiches.

“Now these have no redeeming nutritional value whatsoever, which is what makes them so irresistible. And, you can’t eat these without some of this.” Kraft slapped her hand to a squat metal tank.

“I know what that is,” Garrett said, rising from the table.

“Use those,” Kraft said, nodding to a box.

“Real glass!” Garrett exclaimed, lifting out thick mugs.

“Can’t have decent beer in anything less.”

Garrett dispensed tall steins of beer to everyone.

“Beer’s not ice-cold.” Heller grunted.

“It shouldn’t be,” Kraft said. “If it’s too cold, you lose all the subtle flavor of the hops.”

“After eating these gut bombs, I’m not so sure we’ll be able to taste anything subtle,” Garrett said.

The stack of greasy sandwiches didn’t last long. His crew polished them off with much licking of fingers and long sips of beer. Jace hadn’t had a beer in so long the alcohol went right to his head, then migrated to a few other places when he glanced at Kraft. He decided one would be his limit and nursed his mug like a miser.

“You’re gonna make us all fat!” Charissa giggled.

Payton moved Charissa’s glass away.

“Hell, we could all use a little more meat on us.” Garrett polished off his third beer. His face had a soft red sheen. “And what you doing way over there, Kraft? Come join the party.”

“Here,” Jace said, scooting over on the little bench at the head of the table. “There’s room.”

Everyone’s head swiveled toward Kraft. Jace could tell she felt pinned by the scrutiny.

“Really, Kraft.” Heller grunted. “Damn rude of you to stand way over there.” He lifted his arm and sniffed. “I done took a shower.”

“Hell, darling,” Garrett drawled. “You best get over here after an invite like that. I do believe that’s the first time Heller’s ever called you by your name.”

“It is, it is.” Kraft sat on the little bench to the right of Jace and near Heller’s left.

Jace almost groaned at how good it felt to have the side of her body pressed fully against his. She gave off an incredible heat and she smelled like the food she’d made, but below lingered the scent uniquely hers. Like a mélange of food and sex. Jace thought of how close he’d come to tasting her wide and luscious mouth. He would have to be the last one to leave the table because if he stood up now, everyone would see how much he enjoyed sitting next to Kraft.

“A toast.” Kraft lifted her glass. “To good food!”

“To good beer!” Garrett lifted his glass.

“To good times!” Charissa giggled, plucking her stein back from her mother.

“To good money!” Heller growled.

“To good company!” Bailey said.

“To good health!” Payton chimed in.

“To the best crew in the whole of the Void!” Jace said.

Everyone clinked their glasses together and drank.

“You know what this party really needs? Music.” Jace nodded at Bailey. “Go get your girl, Bailey.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Bailey blushed, but Jace could see he just needed a little coaxing.

“I could always sing,” Kraft threatened.

“Come on, Bailey, play for us,” Jace encouraged, eyeing Kraft warily. “You really don’t want her to sing, do you?”

“Okay.” Bailey went to the bridge and returned with his guitar. “What should I play?”

“Play
Lonesome Road
. I believe Charissa here knows the words.” Kraft nodded to Charissa.

Charissa blushed then smiled at Bailey. “I’ll sing if you play.”

They made a lovely combo. A sweet tune brought to life by Bailey’s skilled fingers and Charissa’s wonderful soprano voice.

As everyone applauded, Jace suddenly felt that they made a family together. It pleased and dismayed him, but he focused on the good emotions inside. He wanted only happiness in his heart right now, and for once, the past didn’t haunt him. For a decade, Senna and their children darkened every pleasurable moment when Senna would have been appalled at such an attitude in him. For the first time, he felt that Senna wanted him to move on and open himself to love again.

“Play something we can all sing to,” Heller demanded.

Bailey played
Life in the Void
and everyone sang with far more enthusiasm than skill. Heller whapped his hand against the table, beating it like a drum, and Garrett slapped his hands double time.

Jace tapped his toes to the tune and he sharply wanted to stand up, pull Kraft into his arms and dance the night away with her…

They sang, they drank, they laughed.

Jace didn’t want the evening to end. Kraft sat snugly to his side, swaying into him as they sang, and when she laughed, he felt his body shake with it. And she laughed a lot. The moment in time was so sweet he longed to bottle it up, like a fine wine, so that he could sip from it whenever he felt the need. But time moved on and the evening ended.

Payton took the slightly tipsy Charissa out, Heller lumbered away, Bailey staggered to his bunk and Garrett offered to stand watch on the bridge.

“I don’t think so,” Jace said, grinning. “You can’t even stand, let alone see straight!”

Garrett laughed and stumbled happily to his bunk.

Kraft washed the dirty dishes. “I could stand watch, Captain.” She didn’t look up. “I’ve had one beer.”

“No. I’m fine.” He cast his gaze to the door that would take him to the empty bridge.

“Yes, you are. Very fine.” Kraft said it with her rolling whisper voice.

“What?”

“It’s fine. Go watch the Void. I’ll put the galley to right again.” Kraft waved him away with soapy fingers.

“Seems unfair that the conductor of the evening is stuck mucking it up.”

Kraft looked up from the sink. “You could rinse, if you’re so inclined.”

Jace stood beside her at the sink. Into his hand, Kraft slipped soapy steins. Then heavy pans. When she finished, she pulled a dishtowel to her hands and twisted them dry.

“Thank you.” She nodded to the stacked-to-dry-dishes on the counter beside the sink.

Jace remembered her on that counter with her legs twined around his hips. “You’re welcome.” He took the towel from her hands, dried his own and tossed it aside. He stepped close, and her heat, her scent, her presence, engulfed him.

“You should get to the bridge,” Kraft blurted. She danced back a step then turned away. She grasped the discarded towel and swabbed it liberally over every inch of countertop.

“Come with me,” Jace said.

Kraft kept her attention on the counter. “To the bridge?”

“For starters.” Jace deliberately pitched his voice low.

“A start to what?” She stopped swabbing the decks but didn’t turn around.

“I don’t know. I’m offering you a dance, Kraft.”

She tossed her head back and laughed. Her bound hair swept along the edge of her fanny. “I honestly don’t know if I can do this, Captain Lawless.”

“Then we’re even.”

“You—you are so much more than pretty.” Kraft turned. “What makes you think I can dance like this with you?”

Jace stepped forward, tossed the rag in her hands aside, cupped her hand and then coaxed her to the bridge. He didn’t stop tugging until Kraft stood in the center of the small room. He shut the door and turned down the lights. The only illumination came from the green indicators on the main console.