“Is it an easy fix?” Rafael asks. When he peers over his shoulder, Kane’s face is closer than expected, but the glow of the console’s display reflects off his visor.
Heat floods his cheeks as the memory of their encounter in Glass Alley returns.
If Kane notices, he doesn’t show it, clearing his throat and kneeling in front of the console. “Should be,” he answers, voice slightly strained. By the time he pries open the access panel beneath the fryer, his tone is normal. “Just need to reset it. Your churros should be fine.”
Rafael blinks at him. “Have you made them before?”
“Notchurros.” Kane’s fingers move through a tangle of wires and interface ports. “Other things. Donuts, beignets, whatever my uncle felt like that week. Or whatever Echo and the others begged me to make.”
That’s probably a longer list than Rafael’s ever baked. With all his experience, would Kane have ended up in a Terra’s kitchen instead of here if his uncle hadn’t died? He doesn’t dare ask.
Instead, he searches for an easier topic, watching Kane fix the console. By the time Rafael decides what he wants to ask, Kane flips a switch and gets to his feet.
The oil bubbles to life, and Rafael’s smiling before Kane even turns, already wearing one of his own.
“Easy fix,” he echoes.
Warmth stirs in Rafael. “Thank you, Baron.”
Kane’s brow raises. “For what?”
“For fixing it. For…sharing.” Rafael isn’t sure where this courage is coming from. His words seem to come out easier around Kane lately.
An unreadable emotion flickers across Kane’s face before he says, “Kane. Call me Kane.”
Rafael holds still for a breath, something settling warm in his chest, before the console chimes again. He turns, grin spreading as the fryer’s panel pulses green.
“They’re done.” He lifts the cooled pan and uses tongs to scoop out a golden strip, the scent of sugar and fried dough circling them.
Kane crosses his arms. “Not bad.” He shrugs. “At least from what I cansee.”
Self-consciousness prickles under Rafael’s collar. “Oh—did you—” His throat tightens. “Want to try one?” Pixie trying his food is one thing…But Kane?
The corners of Kane’s eyes crinkle behind the visor. “Of—”
“Not until I’ve had one!”
A high-pitched voice cuts in. Both men spin to find Echostriding toward them with a smirk.
Any trace of amusement vanishes from Kane’s face. “Where were you?” he barks. “Why did you leave him here alone?”
Echo snorts. “Relax, boss man. No one’s gonna jump the kid. Everyone here knows better.”
“That’s not the point.” Kane’s shoulders tense. “Half the recruits crash here full-time because they’ve got nowhere else to go. Some bring trouble. I don’t want Rafael caught up in it.”
Rafael can’t tell what throws him more, the idea that Kane houses half his recruits, or the fact he might’ve been less safe than Echo let on.
“Okay, okay. We’ll guard him like a Premiere Corp star. Happy?” Echo meets Rafael’s gaze and reaches for the tongs. “May I?”
He lets her take the churro, muttering a soft, “Sure,” while his heart starts to pound.
The treat passes her lips, and seconds later, a satisfied moan slips out. “Amazing!” Echo cries, not bothering to cover her mouth. “Screw the nurse gig! You should work at Terra’s.”
Pride swells in his chest. “I don’t know about that,” Rafael ducks his head. “But thank you…”
As Echo chews, she retrieves another churro and holds the tongs out for Kane. “Here. Tell the kid what’s what.”
Kane pauses before taking them, his mouth set in a hard line. Rafael holds his breath. What if he’s not interested? Then Kane swipes the churro from Echo and bites into it before Rafael can brace himself.