Odin (Alien Adoption Agency #5) - Tasha Black Page 0,6
agreed at once.
“Book?” he echoed, indicating that she should climb onto the bed.
She hesitated, but quickly realized that if she didn’t sit on the bed, she would have no place to sit at all.
She crawled in and leaned back against the wooden headboard.
He handed her the tray and climbed in after her.
“This looks amazing,” she said, her stomach grumbling as she took in the scent of the hearty meal.
“Root is a good cook,” Odin said.
She glanced up at him, surprised but glad to hear him compliment their hostess. He already had a mouthful of stew, his eyes were closed with pleasure.
Liberty felt a deeper kind of hunger growing within her. One that wouldn’t be satisfied with mere food. But she took a big bite to distract herself before she could give it too much thought.
The stew practically melted in her mouth, the simple flavors of meat and root vegetables blending perfectly with a spice she had never tasted before.
“That flavor is tumbler flower,” Odin said, as if reading her thoughts. “It’s only grown on Lachesis.”
“Amazing,” Liberty said, taking another bite.
They ate quietly for a few minutes, the cries of the night birds outside the only sound.
“You’re adopting a baby,” Odin said suddenly, his deep voice breaking the silence. “But your husband isn’t here with you.”
His words hung in the air for a moment before she decided on the right way to reply.
“He’s dead,” she said simply, looking down at her stew so she wouldn’t have to see him react.
He didn’t reply, and she glanced up after a moment to find him gazing at her, a haunted look in his eyes.
She waited for him to say he was sorry, to treat her differently, like she was a fragile thing that might fall apart at any moment, the way people always did when they found out she was a widow. Escaping other people’s uncomfortable sympathy was part of the joy of traveling.
She could have told him anything. But somehow, she didn’t have the heart to lie to this man. They were going to be sharing responsibility for Colton for the next twenty years, so she couldn’t really lie, even if she wanted to.
“You loved him?” he asked.
She nodded once.
He leapt to his feet and began to pace the tiny space in front of the bed. He reminded her of the panther at the Terra Fantastical Zoo.
“Are you okay?” she asked after a minute.
“It makes me angry,” he growled.
Well that was no surprise.
What was a surprise was how it made Liberty feel. People expected her to be sad all the time. She had hidden her anger, sure it would be unwelcome.
But his anger on her behalf made her feel justified and seen in a way no one ever had before.
“Yeah, it sucks,” she agreed. “But he didn’t want my life to be over, and I’m trying not to let it be.”
“This is why you wanted a child?” Odin asked, turning back to her with interest.
“It was on his list,” she said, smiling. “He made me a list of things he wanted me to do when he was gone.”
“Vengeance on his enemies,” Odin suggested, nodding as if it went without saying.
“Uh, no,” Liberty said. “But I’m getting the feeling your list might be more interesting than his, and that’s saying something.”
Odin shrugged.
“No, it was things he wanted me to experience,” she explained. “Good things, like traveling, and learning a new language.”
“What language did you learn?” he asked.
“Flabian,” she told him.
“Flabian?” he said. “Really?”
“It’s a beautiful language,” she said. “I always wanted to learn it.”
“What’s left on the list?” he asked, sitting beside her again.
Suddenly, she was too aware of his big body, the warmth that seemed to emanate from him. Even the smell of him was addictive.
You have too much love. Find someone to share it with.
“Nothing,” she said. “There’s nothing left on the list.”
It wasn’t really a lie. Was it?
“Nothing?” he asked, leaning back, eyebrows up slightly.
“I saved motherhood for last,” she explained. “I knew it would be hard to do other things once I had a baby.”
“You weren’t wrong about that,” he told her sincerely. “The whelp is small, but demanding.”
“It seems like all he does is sleep,” Liberty said.
“Give him time,” Odin said with a rough chuckle. “He’s more complicated than he seems.”
“I appreciate the advice,” Liberty told him. “All of this is new to me - the baby, the farm.”
“You’ll like it,” he told her. “You seem like the type of person who can adapt.”
“I’m the kind of person who