Page 73 of Space Cowgirl: Houston, All Systems Go
“What?” I glance down at my treacherous nipples, thinking I somehow gave Holt and me away.
“I know why you like working in the laundry room.” My bestie sounds pretty proud of herself.
She wouldn’t really out me, would she? I glance to the doorway, where I can just see Holt’s shoulder.
“It reminds you of the noise on the International Space Station, doesn’t it?”
I blink, both surprised Jackie could figure that out and thankful shedidn’tfigure out why my jeans are probably sporting a wet spot.
“So I was right, youarea nerd.” Rose laughs and bends down to grab something from under the counter. “A nerd who also likes BDSM?” She straightens, Cookie’s studded and rhinestoned collar in her hand.
Holt doesn’t bother holding back his laughter this time.
* * *
HOLT
“Now,don’t be anxious, she’s really gentle.”
Rose eyes Jules, who’s stroking Cookie warily. “You do realize I grew up around cows, right?” She looks around the stall. “Though I don’t remember any of them having accommodations quite like this.”
Cookie and her mother, who’s still nursing her calf, are living in rustic luxury, in a double-wide horse stall complete with blankets, white Christmas lights hung from the ceiling, and a small radio playing Mozart.
When and how Jules managed to arrange this, I have no idea. But considering she recently corralled and conquered a group of pre-pubescent boys, I’m sure my ranch hands weren’t that hard of a target.
Trish picks up one high heel, then the other. “I did not dress for cow visiting.”
“No, you dressed for working the pole,” Jules says without looking.
Trish scowls.
“Just wearing the two-inch heels you guys got me takes a serious amount of concentration on realigning my natural equilibrium.” Jackie tilts her head, examining Trish’s shoes. “And those were boots that have more support structure than the stilettos you have on.”
Trish shrugs. “I’ve been doing it so long, I don’t even think about it.”
“Really?” Jackie pushes her glasses up.
“My mom had me in pageants real young.”
“You were a pageant queen?” Jules asks, sounding like Trish just mortally wounded her.
Rose perks up. “Did you just talk about your family?”
Trish’s usually amused expression slackens, and I have a feeling she hadn’t meant to say that.
“Excuse me?” Jules Vanna Whites in Cookie’s direction. “Pet cow here.”
Trish’s shoulders relax and she throws Jules a grateful smile. Jules takes the opportunity to drag her, stilettos and all, into the stall to pet Cookie.
Jules is a good friend.
“Do cows make good pets?” Jackie, ever curious, moves forward to inspect Cookie. It takes a minute to realize she’s speaking to me.
“Uh—” I rub the back of my neck. “Well…”
“Cookie’s agreatpet,” Jules says, eyes narrowing on me.
“Yeah, sure.” I couldn’t take the sarcasm out of my voice if I tried. Which I hadn’t.
