Rysha opened the door, revealing Trip standing in the hallway and holding a wood, glass, and metal display case that looked like it could hang on the wall like a picture frame. A couple of female officers in fatigues strolled past behind him, giving it a curious look.
One of them paused, her gaze slipping to Trip’s butt, and Rysha realized it wasn’t the case that had drawn their attention. Trip wasn’t wearing anything fancy, but his civilian clothing fit better than fatigues tended to do, making it easy to see his lean, powerful form. The sleeves of his button-down cream-colored shirt were rolled up, leaving his muscular forearms on display. He was fit for a pilot, and she wondered if having dragon blood helped one keep an appealing physique. She also wondered if he had intentionally left that top button unbuttoned, as if to invite someone to come along and unbutton the rest of them.
Realizing she hadn’t said hello or done anything but stare at him, she smiled at him. And caught his dark green eyes tilted toward her chest. He jerked them up immediately.
“I’m not looking,” he blurted, his cheeks reddening impressively given his darker-than-typical Iskandian skin.
Rysha grinned, amused that he’d been checking her out even as she’d been doing the same to him. She was also pleased he didn’t seem to have been aware of the other women in the hallway.
“You can look all you want.” Rysha touched her chest, took his arm, and led him into her room. “I’m glad you want to.”
“I do. But I don’t want to be rude. My grandmother always told me to look women in the eyes.”
“My aunt always told me to slap men if they looked at my breasts or my butt. The older generation gives interesting advice, doesn’t it?” She shut the door firmly behind Trip, so no other women wandering past would be able to ogle him.
He tilted his head. “Does that mean you’re going to slap me?”
“Probably not until later.” She patted his butt and grinned again.
“Hm, do I get to slap you if you look at my butt?”
“Probably not until later.”
He chuckled and leaned against her. He looked like he might have given her a hug, but he was still holding the frame.
“Oh.” He lifted it and turned it for display. “This is for you. This round slot is where the elite-troops badge goes. Actually, Major Kaika said it’s more of a big bronze coin. You probably don’t have it yet, right? I think you get it at the awards ceremony. That’s tomorrow, isn’t it?”
Rysha nodded and would have said more—she wanted to ask if he could get away from the hangar to come—but he continued on, almost burbling as he described the case.
“And here’s how you hang it. I made it self-fastening, so you don’t have to attach anything to the walls. See, here? And then these slots are for your medals. The first four go here, and then this folds out. You can alternate which ones you want to display, and if you get tired of the color of the velvet background, I made it easy to remove and replace.”
“I don’t have any medals,” Rysha said.
Unless he wanted to count the various ones she’d been awarded for sports competitions as a girl. They were all back in her bedroom at the manor.
“You will,” Trip said firmly, then seemed to run out of words. He bit his lip and thrust the case out, his eyes hopeful.
Was he afraid she wouldn’t like it? She was positive he’d made it by hand. In what free time, she couldn’t imagine, since between his training and his work and checking in on those eight babies, he couldn’t possibly have any.
“It’s beautiful, Trip. Thank you.” Rysha accepted it and ran her hand along the mahogany frame, touched that he had taken the time to craft it. And that he believed she would be awarded medals.
“We should have gotten one already, really,” he said quietly, perhaps reading her thoughts.
Funny how the idea of having him in her head had bothered her once, but now, it just seemed natural. A part of him. She wondered if General Zirkander and Sardelle spoke telepathically to each other. Probably. She was positive Jaxi, at least, butted into the general’s mind.
“For destroying the portal?” she asked. “Or for finding all those chapaharii swords? Or for finding eight half-dragon-half-human babies?”
“I don’t think you get medals for finding long-lost siblings—and don’t forget all the half-dragon animal babies too—but portal-destroying is definitely medal-worthy.”
“Are the animals being properly cared for?” She realized that they would grow to maturity a lot faster than the human children would. How fast did lizards and lions and whatever else had been in there grow up? She would have to check, but she suspected the other houses on Sardelle’s street were about to become even less likely to attract renters.
“By Tylie, Ylisa, and Ferrin,” he said. “Sardelle’s students. Mostly by Tylie. She’s studying to be a veterinarian.”
“A sorceress veterinarian? I wonder if King Angulus is distressed that she won’t become a great mage-warrior who will hurl fireballs at enemies.”
“I don’t think fireballs are an interest for her. The last time I was there, she was trimming a raccoon’s broken toenail.”
“With magic or toenail clippers?”
“Magical toenail clippers.”
“Is there such a thing?” Rysha asked.
“There is now.” He smirked.
“You didn’t make them, did you?”
“They grind as well as clip nails.”
“That was a yes, wasn’t it?”
Trip shrugged sheepishly. “Sardelle won’t let me pay her for her lessons. I feel I should give her something. Besides, my grandmother also says you should never arrive at someone’s house without a gift. Usually, she gives baked goods, but I don’t bake.”
“Does General Zirkander think it’s odd that you’re giving his wife gifts?”
“Not since I brought them a new combination coffee grinder and brewing machine, one made extra durable in case dragons lacking mechanical aptitude get cranky with it.”
Rysha set down the display case and rested her hands on either side of Trip’s face. “You’re a good man.”
She kissed him, only intending it as a thank-you for the gift and a sign of approval for his solicitude, but he returned it warmly, resting his hands on her hips, and her thoughts soon strayed back to the unbuttoning of buttons. She supposed that should wait, since they had planned to take that walk and have dinner at a restaurant before engaging in less clothed activities, but when Trip broke the kiss, she inadvertently made a protesting noise.
But he also eased closer, slipping his arms fully around her as he looked toward the bed, speculation in his gaze.
“I expected it to be bigger,” he said.
“My bed?”
Admittedly, it wasn’t large—certainly not designed for two—but after the cave and alley they’d had sex in, Rysha thought it would prove quite luxurious. It had a firm mattress with just enough spring…
“Your room and your bed both, I guess,” Trip said. “Everything is the same size as mine.”
“You’re a captain. If anything, you should have a larger room.” She was lucky she didn’t have a roommate. She’d had one at the officer academy.
“But you’re a woman.”