Their Memoriam: A Reverse Harem Romance (Utopia Inc Book 1) Read online

  When he held out his hand toward me, I hesitated. I had a lot of work to do.

  That was an excuse, and it simply fueled his earlier opinion.

  Dammit.

  I hated to be boxed in.

  “I’ll get my shoes.” I ignored his outstretched hand and took another long swallow of my coffee before leaving the mug and Andreas behind to get my shoes from the bedroom.

  The footwear was only an excuse. I needed a minute. Where was the panic coming from?

  I’d been to the garden level several times, and I’d had more than one conversation with Andreas. What made today different?

  The other suites were closed and quiet as we made our way to the lift. Andreas didn’t speak as the lift carried us to the garden level. A little over two weeks in the biosphere, and I still didn’t know what the others did each day unless it involved me. When the doors opened to the garden level, and a wash of fresh, unrecycled air tickled my skin, and I sighed.

  I really should spend more time in the garden. Not only was its existence a marvel, it could also feed the soul. The addition of color to my suite helped, as did the dinner with Hatch and the conversation with Oz — even this conversation with Andreas—yet our condition remained an inescapable fact.

  “I thought you'd feel better with a walk in the sun,” Andrea said as he led the way out of the lift and onto the grass. “But based on your long face, this is worse.”

  It wasn't worse, but how to put into words and explain to him what I could barely explain myself? “We’re prisoners. Maybe we are prisoners by our own design, but we are prisoners nonetheless. Each time I come down here, I have to wonder…what is the purpose? Is it, as it appears, to provide food? Is it a psychological ground where we might acclimate to an Earth that seems so very far away?”

  I spared him a look, but Andreas merely wore a speculative expression. Maybe this was what he meant about going for a walk and a talk. I was giving into a request I hadn’t wanted to fulfill. Oh, screw it.

  “Or is there something far more nefarious going on here?” I chose a path at random and followed it, Andreas matched pace with me. “I’m trying not to be paranoid. It’s a hard condition to maintain. A prisoner’s first duty is to escape; a scientist’s first duty is to truth.”

  “Fair.” My surprise undress didn’t dispute my charges. “Which are you, Valda? Are you a scientist? Or prisoner? Or perhaps, you’re simply you? So, if the first task of Dr. Bashan is to the truth, and the first task to the team leader is to escape—what is your first duty as you?”

  “Can one really be a team leader of prisoners?”

  The sun heated my cheeks. Maybe I had spent too much time lingering in my suite in the lab—the work wasn’t to finish itself. Even the breeze—where the hell was the breeze coming from?—cooled as the sun warmed. “I don’t know what any of us can be.” It was the most hopeless sentiment I’d allowed myself to consider. “It is better to not focus on what we don’t know and to enhance what we do.”

  “That’s called avoidance.” Fortunately, nothing smug inhabited his tone. The land climbed steadily. Normally, I traced the path through the crops then down to the shore. I hadn’t come this way before—the green of the grass was almost emerald and the sky above it a stunning shade of azure.

  “Do you know where we are?” The idea of an argument warmed the icy surreality of not having a damn clue where we were or why we were here.

  “No,” Andreas said, his tone gentle as if he refused to rise to the bait. Irritating man. He picked fights when I wasn’t in the mood and refused to cater to my need for one. “None of us do, and you’re right. We all wonder about the why behind it. You should join us for breakfast one morning. We’re getting good at sharing what concerns us the most, then working together to address it.”

  What? The land continued to rise and then I froze as we looked out over what appeared to be a large valley. There was even a river lazing through it. What was this place? “So, you four are getting close.” The chill licking at my soul plunged to icy depths.

  “We would like to be closer to you, as well, but you have erected very clear boundaries. Respectfully, we’re not going to steamroll them when you’ve been explicit in keeping us at arm’s length.”

  I wanted to argue the charge, but I couldn’t. “Perhaps tomorrow I’ll come to breakfast.”

  “We’d like that.” The ease with which he accepted my suggestions left me nowhere to go with the argument. Dropping into the grass, I stared down the hill. The visual cortex processed so many facets of information almost simultaneously. The color of the grass, the gradual fall of the land, the water trickling through the slow-moving river with foamy white cresting against the boulders which appeared to have been scattered along its path.

  It was a magical scene, but how could it be real? How could any of this be real?

  “Valda?” Andreas knelt in the grass next to me, and the weight of his hand settled on my shoulder. It was strange to have him say my name. It was like he summed me up in two syllables—and found me wanting.

  “Please don’t touch me.” I hadn’t meant to say it, but the words slipped free. The familiarity of contact should be reserved to those I trusted and whom trusted me. Andreas and I did not have that rapport.

  We might never have it.

  Without further prompting, Andreas withdrew the touch, but remained where he knelt. Weariness crept over me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, already regretting the snappish tone. “I’m not comfortable with this place—with not knowing the how and the why behind it. I need context.”

  People had never been her specialty, but research? Discovery? Exploration of theory? Those were all old friends. This biosphere and their presence defied logic.

  “You have the right to determine your boundaries—mentally, emotionally and physically.” Too easy.

  “Why are you suddenly so nice and forgiving to me? Of all of them…you seemed the least trusting.” While Dirk was the only one to physically attack me, his had been directly linked to the initial adrenaline flood upon waking. Andreas’ attitude had been different—suspicious and marked by bias against my mother.

  “Because we’re all in this…boat together. Right, wrong or indifferent, we made a commitment. I don’t know why we did it, and I don’t know the history behind it. I only know that the five of us are here, and we are now, and we need each other. I want to start over with you, Valda. I want to earn your trust, and I want you to believe I won’t betray you. None of us will.”

  I stared at him for a long moment. The earnestness of his declaration, the way a lock of his hair tumbled over his forehead. The dark certainty in his eyes. I believed him.

  “I think it’s of paramount importance I start coming to breakfast.”

  It was the right thing to say. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and a laugh shook out of him. Before I knew it, my lips were curving. Fresh humor curved through me.

  Rising, he held a hand out to me. “Come on,” he continued to chuckle. “Let’s go see what’s down there.”

  I still had work to do and tests to run, but I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet. Then, like children on a lark, we ran down the hill.

  It was absolutely ridiculous.

  And I couldn’t stop smiling.

  Chapter 11

  Three things cannot long stay hidden. The sun, the moon, and the truth. – Buddha

  “There she is,” Hatch said with a grin as I entered the community room. The scents of sizzling bacon combined with freshly brewed coffee and something else that might be baking. Lush with light, the community room and kitchen was a hub of activity. Dressed in a gray tank top and a pair of dark shorts, Oz sat on a stationary bike, his thighs rippling as he pumped away. Sweat glistened on his skin, and his smile welcomed me.

  Hatch on the other hand, slipped his arms around me and gave me a quick squeeze. The open affection startled the hell out of me. At the same time, warmth chased away the nervousness at breaking m
y normal routine to join them.

  “Glad you came,” Hatch added as he pressed a kiss to my cheek then released me only to slide his arm around my shoulders. “You picked the right day to join us. Dirk is cooking. Of the four of us, he’s actually the best. He doesn’t burn the bacon.”

  “I only did that once,” Andreas complained, but his cheeks creased with his smile as he poured coffee into a mug and slid it across the bar with a nod toward me.

  “And,” Hatch continued sotto voce as though Andreas hadn’t said a word, “Dirk can also make crispy waffles, perfect for syrup and butter.”

  “Point of order,” Oz called. “You made the batter too liquidy.”

  Waving an arm, Hatch guided me right over to one of the chairs at the island in front of the coffee Andreas poured. “Also, he makes the best coffee. It’s strong but not bitter or too watery.”

  The scents were mouthwatering. After being awake all night, debating with myself about coming to breakfast, the coffee was welcome. Sliding onto the seat, I cupped my palms against the warmth. When I’d dressed earlier, I’d chosen loose, colorful pants, a basic black, shape cupping top, and I’d pulled my hair up and away from my face with another colorful scarf. A light jacket kept the cooler air of the common areas from leaving me chilled.

  Somehow—between Oz’s workout clothes, Andreas’ loose black pajama bottoms and tank top, and Hatch in his jeans, and Dirk’s cargo pants and a tank top—I seemed to be overdressed for their breakfast. A sip of coffee helped to cover my anxiety. Even as I lowered the cup, the weight of their attention closed in on me. Dirk twisted from where he tended the bacon and raised his eyebrows.

  Gathering up my courage, I mirrored his action, but added a faint curve of my lips. I wasn’t quite feeling the smile. Instead, I planned to fake it until I could make it. “The coffee is good. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, with a smile of his own. “Do you have a breakfast preference?”

  “Is it real meat? The bacon? Or one of the replicated types?” Sure, replicating meat products had gone a long way toward answering hunger issues all across the planet, but I wasn’t a fan. “It smells wonderful, but the replicated products don’t tend to sit well in my system.”

  “100% pure salted pork.” Dirk transferred several pieces with a set of tongs to a napkin on a plate. The smooth action coupled with his assurance encouraged my stomach’s growling. I’d limited my morning meals to what was available in my suite. “How do you like your eggs cooked?”

  “However everyone else does.” I tried to not stare at the bacon even as he added more slices to the pan. “No sense in doing something special.”

  “Andreas doesn’t eat them. Hatch likes his over medium, Oz prefers poached, and I scramble mine.” Dirk didn’t quite smirk, but amusement flickered in his eyes as he glanced over at me. “So, do you want three sets of eggs?”

  Leaning next to me, Hatch chuckled. “Three sets all at once might be a little much for anyone to handle. How do you like yours, Valda? Dirk doesn’t mind making them, or he wouldn’t have asked.”

  “True,” Oz added from across the room. “During his first breakfast, we all got scrambled whether we wanted them or not.”

  “In his defense, we were all arguing.” Andreas joined us at the bar and settled in on my other side. “When we disagree, or refuse to cooperate, Dirk makes the decisions.”

  Interesting. “Have you elected him team lead, then?”

  “No,” Dirk answered as he checked another pan he had cooking. The long length of his hair had been gathered by what looked like a leather tie at the nape of his neck. It gave me my first real view of the column of his throat and how the muscles there seemed to tense even when the rest of him appeared relaxed. “It just means I don’t have time for bullshit debates when I’m cooking. So, decide or I’ll pick one for you.”

  A shiver chased up my spine at the hint of promise kissing those words. What would Dirk decide on for me? “Actually, I like eggs in all their variety, so go ahead and decide.” Enjoying the challenge, I hid a smile behind another sip of coffee.

  “Bets on what he’ll make?” Hatch leaned against the bar, hand wrapped around his own cup of coffee.

  “No takers,” Andreas said with a shake of his head. “Too many options, and Dirk doesn’t tend to be predictable.”

  “Unless we’re discussing Valda.” The flat admission from Oz had me twisting. The doctor continued to work his legs on the bike and had added a pair of hand weights which he curled.

  “How often do you discuss me?” Normally, being the object of their social interaction would bother me. In truth, I’d prefer no one talk about me at all. Yet, with these guys, I was more curious than anything. I glanced at Hatch first. The normally pithy man had compressed his lips and squinted, almost in a wince. Twisting, I checked with Andreas. He didn’t look at me, his expression pained. Turning fully, I found Oz wearing a more apologetic look, but like the first two men, he didn’t answer.

  That left Dirk, and he expertly cracked two eggs at the same time and dropped them into a pan where they sizzled. Discarding the shells, he shrugged as he said, “Pretty much daily. You intrigue them, and they have been trying to figure out the best way to make you comfortable, so you wouldn’t mind being approached.”

  Hatch had certainly figured it out. I’d enjoyed our ‘date,’ and Andreas had been a little more bullheaded, but I’d had fun when we’d gone to explore the garden level. Oz, he’d been far more professional, yet I couldn’t deny being more comfortable with him. Really, with all of them—except maybe… “Do you join in on the debate? Or keep your opinions to yourself, Dirk?” Was I really challenging him? The man who choked me when he first emerged from the lifepod, the soldier who seemed to know me? The only one of them that also seemed to follow my commands without question. Not that I’d given many—I sucked as team leader.

  “Only when it’s required of me,” Dirk said, loading a plate with bacon and fried potatoes before added a large helping of scrambled eggs next to them. When he set the plate in front of me, my stomach gurgled. The noise was so audible, heat crept into my face, but I laughed. The sound seemed to dance from person to person, with each man chuckling.

  To my shock, even Dirk’s smile grew. He touched a single finger to my nose. “Dig in. We can tackle today’s debate after you’ve eaten.” The simple gesture elicited a wild reaction—both tingling anticipation and melting need. The heat in my face seemed to flush hotter, but I needed no further encouragement. Thankfully, none of the men who’d been there before me complained about my getting to eat first.

  It wasn’t long before Dirk had served up several plates, all with the same three components—except for Andreas, who had no eggs on his plate. Oz finished his workout and joined us. Glistening with sweat, he drained two water bottles before tackling his food. Dirk saved his own plate for last, after he’d shut off the stovetop and set aside the deep pans with extra food in them. There was easily enough there for three more plates.

  “This is excellent,” I told him after devouring most of the fried potatoes. Yes, they were a fairly empty carb, but I didn’t care. They were crisped perfectly, and the bacon was crunchy but full of flavor. I even enjoyed the eggs.

  “Glad you like it,” he murmured, his gaze holding mine captive a moment. “If you want more, let me know. Won’t take a minute to scramble some more eggs.” Something about the lingering way he held my gaze sent another thrill through me.

  Who was Dirk Rossi? Really?

  More, who was he to me?

  “If I eat more after this, I’m going to need to do more than my yoga.” I didn’t mind the bountiful meal, but when I was used to a small bowl of oatmeal or fruit with some yogurt, this was huge.

  “I can help you out with that, if you need a new routine.” The ease with which the offer rolled off his tongue relaxed me. I wasn’t sure if Dirk liked me. Obedience didn’t always mean compatibility in our personalities or even whether he found me agree
able.

  Enough overthinking. Just—enough. “I’ll let you know. As wonderful as this is, I’m not sure yet that I’ll be able to finish it.”

  After another couple of bites, I took the last swallow of my coffee. Hatch didn’t ask, he simply retrieved the coffeepot and refilled mine, then offered it to each of the others. Once done, he returned the pot to Dirk, who started a fresh pot brewing before he resumed eating his meal. The smooth interaction intrigued me.

  “How do you all decide the work rotation?” If I was going to be involved, I needed to involve myself.

  “Wasn’t really a decision,” Dirk answered. “I made breakfast on our third morning?” He glanced to the others as if seeking confirmation. “Then Hatch, then Oz—Andreas went last, because he was still recovering from his stupidity.”

  I didn’t laugh, because the blunt ease in Dirk’s voice removed any kind of sting in the criticism. “I can take my turn in the rotation after Andreas, then.” By my calculation, it would give me four days to consider what to make everyone. I cooked, but I wasn’t a gourmet.

  “If you’d like,” Andreas said. “Does this mean you plan to join us regularly?”

  I had, but was it a problem? “Do you mind? Any of you?” Maybe the guys needed their time together, and I was intruding.

  “Nobody minds,” Dirk said, lifting his now empty plate and stacking it atop Hatch’s, which was also empty. Without a word, Hatch began stacking all the empties. Most of the guys had finished, but I was still picking at my food. “Don’t ask silly questions. Of course, we don’t mind. First of all, you’re team lead. Secondly, everyone here has a thing for you, and third, and most important, you want to be here.”

  I was still processing that list when Oz chuckled. “Man, has anyone ever told you that there is such a thing as too blunt?”

  “Sure,” the soldier shrugged, seemingly unperturbed by the comment. Dirk stretched his hand across the bar toward me. Accepting the invitation, I gripped his hand with mine. It was as though we were meeting on level ground for the first time. The open honesty in his eyes held me captive. “But I don’t care to play games. Everyone here likes you.” And, just like that, the world seemed to narrow until it was just the two of us, despite the fact the guys were present. “Keeping it a secret from you would only lead to confusion. Hatch enjoyed his dinner with you and his surprises. Oz lingered for hours with you in his lab, enjoying the excuse of studying your readouts to pick your brain, since your both doctors. Andreas has been kicking himself for days, the psychologist who reacted so badly to a perceived threat. You have been our single topic of conversation beyond the tasks we’re all doing to secure this facility and explore its limits.”