***
There was So. Much. Food.
Garath stared in amazement at the aisles upon aisles of food in front of him. It was unbelievable.
“How…”
The first sight that greeted him was bins upon bins of fruits and vegetables, fresh produce that he’d tasted before on the base, but had never believed in his wildest dreams was available in such vast quantities. The smell of the sweet and succulent delicacies filled his nose.
But there was more!
He could see chickens turning on spits by the dozens in a big metal contraption to his right. Others were visible inside plastic containers. As he watched humans walked up and just grabbed one or two of them, as if it were nothing.
They had already been killed, defeathered, and gutted. Everything was done. Even the cooking; they just had to take them and go! Sides of various wheat-based products, and cheese, glorious cheese! It was more than he could take. Garath began to wander the store, lost in a smorgasbord of food the likes of which would have beggared any king when last he was awake.
It was too much, he realized, sucking back some saliva that threatened to become drool. He stood in front of a butcher’s section, fresh slabs of meat displayed in tantalizing rows, covered in spices and flavors. Just the smell was driving him insane.
Overwhelmed by the options, he lost track of time until a soft singsong voice speared through the fog surrounding him.
“It looks a little different when it’s not all scattered across the floor, doesn’t it?”
He knew that voice! His brain conjured up images of a stunning woman covered in tomato sauce and mashed potatoes. Then it wiped that clear, so he could see the heart-shaped face below it. Thick cheeks that he wanted little more than to caress were bunched up beneath a pair of blue eyes that he hoped were full of life more than anger this time around.
“Maybe just a little,” he admitted, turning to see the woman who had haunted his dreams and every minute of his waking time since he’d done as she’d asked and left her alone.
She was there, dressed in a dark red shirt showing the barest hint of cleavage, hanging loose and baggy from both shoulders but cinched around her waist with a small piece of leather. Black pants completed the outfit, as far as he noticed at least. Garath’s attention was constantly pulled upward, to her small but animated mouth and the rest of her face. The curves of her body were a dangerous distraction, but just then he was able to put his focus where it was needed.
Not one minute had gone by that he hadn’t regretted that decision. More than once Garath had replayed the scenario, trying to figure out what he could have said or done to change the outcome, and every time he came up blank. She had requested he leave, and despite how much his dragon wanted her, despite him knowing they were fated to be together, Garath simply could not go against her. Not when the request had been reasonable for the situation.
He respected her, and wanted her to know that. To know that, if she asked, he could be counted on to do as she needed or wanted. She was his mate, after all, and she deserved the very best of everything that he had to offer.
Even if that wasn’t treasure. That, hopefully, was something she could overlook until he could rectify the situation.
“What are you doing here?” he asked before she could make another reference to their first meeting. That was before. This was now, and he was going to demonstrate it.
The woman looked at the wire metal cart she and so many others were pushing around, and shrugged. “Getting a filling.”
Garath frowned. “What?”
She smiled up at him. “Never mind. I’m getting some food, obviously.”
“But I thought you lived on the base.”
Trying to keep his brain intact was getting more challenging the longer she talked to him without the anger and frustration that had been there the last time. Every time she opened her mouth it made him want to just float away on the notes of her voice as it carried him into the clouds and what he envisioned heaven was like. Could she just talk to him for hours on end? He would be perfectly okay with that.
“What? Me? No, I’m not a soldier. I just work on the base, that’s all.”
“That’s a thing? I didn’t know that. I thought you were all soldiers.”
“It’s very much a thing.” She smiled, her small mouth stretching wide as they continued to stare at each other. “You look a little lost. What are you trying to do?”
Garath’s first reaction was to just boast somehow, to pretend about how he was trying to decide just which pieces of meat he liked the most,and whether he should buy some for the next few days as well, or come back to get the freshest cuts tomorrow. Anything to make himself appear more confident in her eyes.
But this was food. He didn’t have the foggiest clue what he was doing, and she knew it like a professional. There would be no fooling her. Honesty was going to be the best policy today.
“Honestly,” he confessed, trying not to let his face go red. “I have no idea.”
“Like, at all?”
“At all,” he confirmed.”
“Have you ever cooked for yourself?”
“No.” He shook his head slowly, admitting defeat. “It’s a long, long story,” he added when her forehead wrinkled in surprise.
“What do you like then?” She reached up to tuck some of the wayward strands of chestnut hair that had fallen from the messy bun back behind her ear and out of her face.
“Meat,” he said slowly. “Potatoes. Bread? Cheese as well.”
“A real savant with your palate, aren’t you?”
Garath stared at her blankly, having no idea what she’d just said. The woman giggled and looked skyward for a moment. Then, after a moment of thought, likely about whether to help the man who had driven a Jeep through her kitchen wall or not, she tugged on the basket he held.
“Okay, well this is just a waste of your money then,” she told him, pointing at the butcher’s counter. “Come on, let’s start with the really easy stuff.”
Garath followed after her, feeling like a blind dog, completely unaware of where he was going and needing to be hand-guided the entire way. Eventually they stopped in front of a big bank of what were quite obviously freezers.
“These are TV dinners. The easiest thing in the world. Not as tasty as anything you may have had on the base if it came from my kitchen, but they’ll keep you going at least.” She looked him up and down. “Yeah, go with the larger ones. There’s a huge variety. I’m sure you can find some that you like.”
“Thank you…” he faltered. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name, and I refuse to keep thinking of you as ‘the lady whose kitchen I destroyed’ in my head.”
Truthfully, he’d almost never thought of her like that, but he also wasn’t about to tell her that he wanted to have a name to put alongside his mate’s face. Things like that would just have to wait a little bit longer before he confessed them to her. A name was a start though. Maybe a phone number too. Maybe.
“Marie,” she said, sticking out a hand.
He shook it. “Garath.”
“That’s an unusual name,” she remarked. “Gahrr-Ath?”
“Suits the owner,” he joked, drawing a soft twitter of laughter from Marie.
Marie. What a beautiful name.
“I’m sure it does.” There was an awkward pause. “But listen, I’m hungry, and I need to get home before either my dog or my best friend destroys the place. I’ve been gone all day, and they’re both waiting on me for food. Just follow the directions and you’ll be fine.” She pointed at the boxed meals in the freezer.
“I will. Thank you Marie. I…don’t know what I would have done. Probably starved,” he admitted.
“Don’t mention it.”
He looked down, summoning up any courage he might have. “Is there any way that maybe, I don’t know, I could get your phone number? In case I need more help.”
The request quite obviously took her by surprise. There was no immediate response, and her pupils dilated as shock ran through her. That was nothing though, compared to the reaction when she agreed a few seconds later.
It was clear she would never make a good politician or gambler. Her face betrayed every emotion running through her mind, even before it had made its way to the rest of her body.
He pulled out his phone, counting his blessings and hoping his good luck would continue until he’d put the number into it. Food preparation had not been among the courses the military had put him through after awakening him from his sleep, but how to use a cell phone had been.
“I really need to be getting going though,” Marie said after he confirmed the number. “My friend is going to get frustrated with me if I’m much later.”
“Of course, don’t let me keep you any longer.” He gestured for her to go. It didn’t matter anymore. He had her number. She’d given it to him. Marie. His mate. Of her own free will she’d decided he was worthy of her number!
“Yes!” he hissed, pumping his fist.
An elderly couple coming down the aisle looked at him with concern, slowing to a halt.
Garath smiled at them. “She gave me her phone number. Me! She gave it to me. Can you believe that?”
The pair started smiling, and the old man lifted a hand to his mouth, putting it between his oblivious wife and him. “She gave me hers at the corner store sixty-two years ago. Worst mistake I’ve ever made.”
“Harold!” the woman scolded gently, though a smile teased at her lips.
The white-haired gentleman began to laugh heartily, and the love for the woman at his side shone through in his eyes as he looked over at her.
Garath nodded, appreciative of their interaction. It would be far more than sixty years before he and Marie looked like that, but he couldn’t wait to be in the old man’s shoes one day. It was the love, he realized. The way he looked at his wife, how his hand even now rested on hers as they pushed the cart together. They were a team. He wanted to be a team with Marie.
Now all he had to do was convince her his was the winning one.