Page 44 of Space Cowgirl: Houston, All Systems Go
“She’s real nice. Taking time off work when she’s hoping for a promotion to make sure Dr. Lee has her dream wedding. And making sure you didn’t get taken advantage of by that city woman.” He blushes. “That, uh, Melissa sure is nice too. Really appreciates what Jules did for her.”
“Yeah.” I’m suddenly deeply ashamed by all the ways I’ve judged Jules. Just because I found myself inconveniently attracted to her on sight, I’ve been unfair in my opinions.
“Took the time to go over what it’s like to enlist in the armed forces, too. Did you know her dad is a general? That’s serious stuff.”
“A general?” That snaps me back to the moment. “Wait, why was she talking to you about enlisting? Are you thinking of joining up?”
He shrugs. “I’m not sure. I can’t be a ranch hand forever. And college isn’t for me. I never liked school.”
I take a deep breath, willing the tightness in my chest away. “If you ever were thinking of moving on from the ranch, or needed anything…” I clap him on the shoulder. “You know I’m there for you, right?”
He nods, smiling. “Yeah, man. I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful or anything. I mean, if I had it my way I’d work here forever. I love this place. But I—”
“You don’t need to explain. I get it.”
We both stand in silence for a moment, each lost in our thoughts, before a bird’s high-pitched call breaks in.
“Get on home. Tell your mom I said hi.”
Tuck nods and puts his hat back on his head. “Will do. Night, Holt.”
I watch him take off behind the barn, where he usually parks his truck. It never occurred to me that he might want more. Which is stupid. The width of his shoulders and his daily workload should’ve told me he isn’t a kid anymore. Kids grow up, get jobs. Families of their own.
Pizza box in hand, I look around the West family home. It isn’t until right now that it dawns on me that I’m the only one still living here. Everyone is moving on.
And I’m still here.
I’ve worked so hard to get things a certain way I don’t think I’ve let myself realize that things are bound to change. Tucker won’t always be my number one ranch hand. Rose won’t be a student much longer. Flynn won’t be coming home.
It’s quiet when I step inside the house. And a mess. Just seeing all the sawdust everywhere makes the back of my neck start to itch. Taking a breath, I remove my hat and set my keys on the sawhorse by the door. I leave on my boots. Leaving on my boots doesn’t help the itching at the back of my neck, but I’d rather that than a nail in my foot.
Trudging on through the house, I step sideways through more mess into the kitchen. They’ve ripped out almost everything, but there is a plank of plywood over what I believe will be a new island. I set the pizza there.
“Is that a Boondoggles pizza?”
Jules is in the newly widened doorway, looking distracting as ever, cell phone in hand. But she isn’t looking at me, she’s looking at the pizza box.
I swear, if Jules ever looked at me with such lust-filled eyes, I’d be a goner.
“Oh my God.” She steps up next to me, tossing her phone on the counter, eyes still on the pizza box. “It is.” She touches the box reverently and I’ve suddenly hit a new low. I’m jealous of cardboard.
“Florentini, right? That’s what Rose said you liked.” My voice is gruffer than I intend.
Her eyes finally land on me. “You got me a Florentini pizza?” With her wide eyes and her open mouth, she’s rocking quite a seductive expression. Made even more so as I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even realize it. This isn’t one of Jules’ carefully considered smiles. In fact, she isn’t smiling at all. She’s standing next to me in my kitchen, barefoot, wearing drawstring cotton pants and a tank top that makes it dick-twitchingly obvious that she’s braless, and her expression is one of a kid on Christmas morning.
Which makes me feel even more like a creeper when my dick stops twitching and full-on salutes her.
“Um, yeah. No big deal.” I run my hand through my hair. “I just wanted to say sorry.”
“Sorry?” She tilts her head to the side, and I have the presence of mind not to tell her she looks like a cute puppy when she does that. ’Cause even I’m not that stupid when it comes to women.
“Yeah. I accused you of sending reporters here and—”
“And so you drove two hours to bring me my favorite pizza?” She flicks her eyes to the pizza box, then back to me, the lines between her eyes gathering. “For me?”
My embarrassment turns to frustration. Because it’s my doing that Jules thinks I don’t like her, that I wouldn’t do something nice for her. I try finding words to explain why I act the way I do and why I feel the way I feel. About her. About women. About relationships.
But I can’t. Because nipples.
