“Trisk—” he started, reaching for her hand.
But she yelped when their fingers touched, and he drew back, shocked until she sheepishly turned her hand palm up to show that it was a bright red.
“My God, are you okay?” he asked as he scooted to the edge of the couch to see.
“It’s fine,” she said, but he saw a second flash of pain as she hid it in a loose fist. “I got a steam burn draining the pasta. Stupid. So, uh, you don’t remember anything from work?” she asked as she took a muffin, carefully wrapping it in a napkin to catch the crumbs.
“Bits and pieces,” he said wryly as he resettled himself against the hard couch with his coffee. “Not much.”
Her smile returned, confusing him. “You honestly don’t remember bursting in on me while I was cleaning out Angie’s office for the Saladan Farms researcher? I must’ve screamed loud enough to be heard upstairs.”
The coffee was warm against his fingers, and he shook his head. “No. Maybe?”
Trisk’s half smile made her absolutely charming. “You scared the ever-loving crap out of me. I thought the floor was empty. You fell back into the hall. Hit your head on the wall.”
He reached back to touch it, feeling a sore spot. “I don’t remember that at all.”
Trisk’s eyes dropped as she hunched forward over her knees. “I didn’t think you should be alone after hitting your head, so . . .” Her attention flicked up and away as she shrugged.
That’s why I’m here, he thought, suddenly angry with himself. She’d made it perfectly obvious earlier that she wasn’t interested in going out with him, and when she took him in, concerned over his personal safety, he’d turned it into something it wasn’t. Coffee between his knees, he slumped. I am so stupid.
“Maybe you should get your head examined,” Trisk said, and he started, having been thinking the same thing.
“I’m fine,” he said, resisting the urge to touch the back of his head again as he set his coffee down and took another bite of a muffin. He ate when he got upset, and they were really good. “Besides, if I have to take a sick day on Monday, Colonel Wolfe will make Larry salute him.”
“I bet he does that anyway,” Trisk said with a dry chuckle. “Daniel, I can’t tell you how sorry I am about your project, but I just can’t believe that they will turn it into something dangerous. There’re easier ways to kill people than a virus with no host or way to reproduce.”
“I suppose,” he said, sneaking glances at her between bites of his muffin, not believing anyone could look that good in sandals and jeans. No wonder her old friend from college came all the way from Florida to work with her.
Oblivious to his thoughts, Trisk began bobbing her foot. “With some luck, both your soldier and my farm boy will be gone in a few weeks, and everything will return to normal.”
“I don’t know if I want it to anymore,” Daniel said, and her foot stilled. Meeting her eyes, he lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “I don’t know if I can keep working for Global Genetics if they’re just going to sell my work like that. I mean, I don’t mind it being sold because my heart is in research, and you have to let go to find the next thing, but to have your contribution utterly obliterated?” His focus went distant. “The government can put any name on it they want. And that’s assuming that they don’t turn it into a deadly weapon.”
“They can’t,” Trisk soothed. “There is no way. You engineered it so it can’t replicate outside of a lab. It has no host and mutations are lethal or nonexistent.”
He stared at the fireplace, watching the thin trail of smoke rise from the defunct fire he didn’t remember. “I hope you’re right. I never imagined they would close me out completely. Maybe I don’t want my name on it after all.”
Trisk leaned across the space between them, startling him when she touched his knee. “I know I’m right.”
He looked at her hand, eyes rising to hers. “Thanks for not saying it’s going to be okay.”
“It will be that, too,” she said, and he frowned, confused at the mixed signals he was getting. Did she want to be more than friends, or just friends? Damn it, I’m too old for this.
“Maybe,” he hedged as he pulled out from under her touch and took a sip of coffee. “You said you went to school with him?” Daniel asked, needing more information. “Your farm boy,” he added when she stared at him in confusion.
Understanding, she slumped and rolled her eyes. “Kal?” She exhaled, hiding her face behind a sip of coffee. “Yes. He was in my class. Went to work in Florida when I came here.”
“No kidding.” Daniel was silent for a moment. “Kal, huh? Cute name.”
“I can’t believe he’s working for Saladan Farms,” Trisk said. “He’s good enough to work for NASA, almost as good as me. And now he’s coming here?”
All the better to rekindle a school romance, my dear, Daniel thought, and she laughed at his sour expression. “You want to see him?” she asked suddenly.
“You have a picture?”
Her mug hit the table, and Trisk rose to go to the bookcase behind him and take out a slim volume. Her pace was slow as she came back, thumbing through the yearbook. “That’s him,” she said, pointing down as she handed Daniel the book.
It was heavy, bound with real leather. He didn’t recognize the school name, but if it was on the East Coast, he might not. Lips pressed, Daniel studied the black-and-white class photo for a moment, freezing when Trisk leaned over him, her hair brushing his cheek.