“North had breakfast and lunch sent up for you if you’re hungry. Everyone is working. I’m heading into the fifth zone to work on the houses there if you want to come with me.”
I nod and give him a quick kiss, moving over to the small kitchenette to poke around in the fridge until I find the loaded steak sandwich wrapped up in there for me. The chef and kitchen staff are all working in the huge communal food hall for now while the food supply chain starts working and people can go back to eating in their own homes. One of the many things that North is working on at all hours of the day and night. I still can barely believe that this is something he’s been working on for literally ten years, and his uncle for decades before that, just to keep us all safe.
It makes me very proud to be his Bonded, and also a little guilty for not being the perfect Bond for him. I’m too much work, too hard, and too freaking emotional for the good councilman. But I can try to help out and, at the very least, not be a burden to him.
Thank God Gryphon is working this morning and not tripping over my thoughts, I’d never hear the end of it.
I grab the sandwich and take a bite as I walk back over to the couch, thanking all of my lucky stars again for the chef who was clearly blessed by the gods themselves, because this sandwich is orgasmic. Gabe smirks at the look on my face, moving a little so I can join him on the couch and then dragging the coffee table closer for me to put my plate down.
I clear my throat and attempt to look civil as I tear into my food, murmuring around my mouthful, “How are the houses coming along down there? Are they close? I know we’re struggling with occupancy.”
He shrugs and shoves his phone away. “It’s not so bad. The families are mostly bunked in double, but everyone has enough rooms to handle it. This place is about making do and keeping everyone safe, so mostly the lower families are just grateful to be here. The Top Tiers are giving North shit, but he’s put Nox in charge of complaints, so they’ve all shut the fuck up for now. His attitude does come in handy for some situations.”
I snort with laughter at the thought of Nox dealing with those spoiled assholes. “I’m sure he’s loving the work too. Telling people how pathetic and useless they are is kind of his superpower.”
Gabe pulls a face and takes the other half of the sandwich when I offer it to him. There’s so many different fillings in it that I can only manage half, and what a beautiful thing that is.
“He’s been worried about North, so he offered to help the best way he knows how. We all are. Atlas and Gryphon are working through the Resistance stuff, I’m helping with the buildings, and you’re—”
I cut him off. “I’m sleeping in and being hand-delivered food by men who have better things to do. I might go crazy here, Gabe. I can’t sit on my ass doing nothing just because my Bonds would prefer to keep me somewhere safe at all times. I can’t be useless.”
He scowls back at me. “You took out another camp and then came back here to recover from it. Now we’re going to go build some shit. That’s helping out, Bond. If you have anything else you want to do instead, just tell me and we’ll go find North.”
The problem is that I don’t have anything else I can do because I’m a high school drop out who has only ever worked as a damn waitress. I guess I could go work in the kitchens and help feed people, that’s important work. But then North would move security around so I have a TacTeam operative with me, and I don’t want to move people away from other areas just to babysit me.
So building with Gabe it is.
I wash up my plate and grab a Coke out of the fridge to take over to the building sites. I’d love a coffee, but I feel like I’ve taken up too much of Gabe’s morning already, so the Coke will have to do. Gabe pulls on a set of work boots and pulls out a brand new pair for me as well, grinning at me when I sputter out a thank you. It always catches me off-guard when my Bonds buy me things, even just basic necessities, and it takes me a minute to get them laced up properly. They feel like clown shoes on me, big and bulky, but I’d rather have the protection because there’s nothing quite like the pain of a broken toe.
I’m already wearing jeans and one of Gabe’s plaid work shirts over a tank top, like a dress-up doll of what a Builder Barbie would look like. It’s funny, and when Gabe gets a proper look at my whole outfit, he cackles at me, taking a photo that I ham it up in.
When we leave the house on foot, he catches my hand in his and threads our fingers together, sliding on a pair of aviators that make his look unbearably cool. Ridiculously hot too, like almost too much to freaking look at.