Page 24 of Space Cowgirl: Houston, All Systems Go
“Well? What are your plans?”
More silence. At least this time he has the decency to look unsure.
Unable to stop, I huff out a deep breath and cross my arms. It’s either that or enter the contaminated cow stall and slap him upside the head. “This isn’t string theory, cowboy. We can’t just talk about what might be or what should be, we have to actually get a move on thedoing.”
The lines around his mouth get deeper. “Do you actually know what string theory is?”
Fucker.
I know that Jackie knows about string theory, because she lectured me for forty-two minutes on it last week. Seriously, I counted. And I know string theory stuff from one of my favorite shows, Big Bang. But Holt doesn’t know what I know or don’t know.
My eyes narrow on the man cuddling a cow. I swear the two of us are going to prematurely age the more time we spend together. “Doyouknow what string theory is?”
“Nope.”
“Well, there you go.” My motorcycle boots kick at the straw on the ground. I’m standing in front of the gate to the stall. It’s just a few widely spaced, horizontal bars, so I can see through to the baby cow now being licked clean by its mom.
I nearly vomit. But I woman-up and take a deep breath through my nose.
“Back to the wedding.” I catch an amused grin from Holt, and I’m pretty sure he saw me fight my gag reflex. “Your brother. My best friend. Two months. Barn ceremony.”
His hands pause mid-pet of the cow’s flank. “Barn ceremony?”
“Didn’t you look at the freaking thumb drive I gave you yesterday?”
He has the good grace to look chagrined. “Uh, no. Sorry. I’ve been busy.”
“Yes, with your own personal animal planet.”
“Yes.” Holt’s jaw clenches and his nostrils flare and I’m inordinately pleased that I’m getting to him. Then he goes and takes a deep breath, his facial features relaxing, calming himself down. “It’s no excuse though. I should’ve looked it over.”
Huh. Now I feel kind of shitty for digging at him. I shrug. “It’s like you said, you were busy.”
Something wet touches my hand and I jump back. “What the fuck?”
A rich, rumbling sound comes from Holt. Wow. He has a great laugh. It’s also enough to distract me from baby cows gone wild.
Almost.
Holt maneuvers around the edge of the stall, bending down to pat the calf. “She’s just trying to say hello.”
Ignoring how handsome Holt is when he’s smiling, I focus on the baby cow, who is apparently female, poking her shiny head through the bars in the gate.
“Girl, you still have vagina snot on you.”
Gagging, Holt straightens. “That’s disgusting.”
“That’sdisgusting? Of all the things you have seen in the last twenty minutes, you think the metaphorical phrase ‘vagina snot’ is gross?”
“Yes.” I’d describe his facial expression as mutinous.
I snort, his prudish qualities making me grin. “Whatever, cowboy.”
The baby makes a weird bleating sound and pushes its nose toward me more.
The damn thingiskind of cute. She chuffs again and I tentatively reach out my hand.
Wet, yes. But also soft. Huh.
