Higher Ground by Becky Black (notion reading list txt) 📗

“I may have.” And then supper and talking until late in the bar before strolling under the stars, Adam walking Zach home to the A dome. They’d parted outside the dome with some lingering kisses, Adam resisting another invitation to go inside “for coffee.” But they had made a date for tonight.

He bent over the wheat again. It was doing well, the stalks sturdy and green, about halfway to ripening. “You’re taking good care of this crop, Eva.”

“It’s a good variety. And the weather’s helped. Could do with more rain, though.”

“There’s rain forecast for next week. Okay, I’m all done. I should get moving.” He had several more farms to visit.

“Oh, what’s the hurry? Come and have some coffee. And I’ve got a batch of cookies ready to come out of the oven.”

“And you want to hear more about me and Dr. Benesh.”

“That too. We old ladies have to have something to talk about.”

He followed her back to the farmhouse and petted her dog while she made coffee and pulled the tray of cookies from the oven. They sat in the kitchen, warm from the oven, the door open for a breeze. Chickens scratched around outside. The dog gave Adam mournful looks to encourage him to feed it cookies.

“How long have you been here, Eva?”

“Twenty-three years coming up.”

“You came with your husband, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “But it wasn’t for him. He went back to Earth after five years.”

But she’d stayed. Chosen the colony over her husband. She’d worked this farm for years, dedicating herself both to growing food for the town and to working with the Institute to test new varieties. There were a dozen such farms, not to mention vineyards and orchards, around the town. Visiting them had quickly become the favorite part of Adam’s job. He loved hearing the history of the colony from the people who’d built it. Would some young whippersnapper one day be talking to old Dr. Gray about the contribution he’d made to the colony? Or would Adam go home after his contract ended?

Plenty of time to decide.

* * * *

As Adam studied the menu, Zach tapped his fork on the table, a scowl on his face. Adam frowned at him. Zach’s menu lay in front of him; he’d given it only a cursory glance. Maybe he already knew what he wanted.

“Are you hungry?” Adam asked.

“What?” Zach dragged his attention back from a long way off when Adam spoke.

“You seem impatient.”

“I didn’t get any lunch.” He still tapped the fork, the rhythm speeding up. Adam reached over and took it out of his hand, laid it back on the table. “Sorry. Can we order?”

“You okay?” Adam asked after the waiter had been and gone. “You’re on edge.”

“I’m sorry.” Zach ran his hands through his hair, making it look worse. He’d come right from work, Adam thought, clothes rumpled, a hint of beard shadow. For their date last night, Zach had clearly been home first to shower, shave, and put on fresh clothes. Not this time, and Adam should feel offended that Zach hadn’t made an effort for him, but instead he felt only concern.

“You worked late? Quarterlies?”

“Yes. Professor Phillips is starting to get on at me about them. But there’s this other thing… Just some personal work I’m not even supposed to be spending time on, but you know…” He gave a half smile, half grimace. “Sometimes something seems more urgent and important than the work they’re paying you for.”

“I hear that,” Adam said. “I could never get my professor to agree with me about spending department time on the cactus tournament.”

“The what?” Zach had picked up the fork again, but it froze in his hand.

“Just a tournament we have going in the lab as to who can make their cactus bloom first.”

“Don’t those things only bloom every few years?”

“It’s not a short tournament, I’ll admit.”

Zach sighed and rubbed his eyes. “If I could just get someone to check my results, I’d probably be able to drop it. I think I’ve made an error somewhere. I must have.”

Adam almost asked what this other project was about, but the waiter was heading their way.

“Here comes the food. Right, I’m invoking The Rule!”

“No work talk on a date. Right.” Zach gave a feeble smile. “You’re right. I need to forget all about it for a few hours.”

Adam did his best to make Zach forget. They ate, split a bottle of wine—a nice white made at a winery attached to a vineyard Adam had visited that afternoon, which made him smile. When the waiter started giving them meaningful looks as more customers came looking for tables, they split the check and took their leave.

It was dark out, and they strolled, Adam slipping his arm into Zach’s, until they found a bench to sit on in a quiet spot sheltered by some trees.

Zach wrapped his arms around Adam’s waist and pulled him close, kissed him. Desire surged in Adam, and Zach’s hand on his thigh made him want to give in to a suggestion he felt sure would come any moment. But he remembered what he’d decided—to date the hell out of Zach. No rushing into anything. Relish the anticipation. Bring it to a fever pitch.

Zach pulled away from the kiss and whispered into Adam’s ear, breath warm against his skin, stirring his hair. “Will you come back to my apartment?”

“Not tonight.” Adam tried to bring Zach’s mouth back to his, wanting the taste of those lips again. But Zach pulled away from him. There was just enough light to read the stricken look on Zach’s face.

“Adam, if you’re not interested in me that way, please let me know where I stand. Please don’t lead me on.”

Adam grabbed his hands, pulled him closer again.

“I was just getting closely acquainted with your tonsils, Benesh. Does it seem likely I’m not interested in you that way?”

“I don’t have tonsils. They were removed when I was ten. Um, but that’s not strictly relevant.”

“No,” Adam said with a grin. “I’m