Page 8 of Space Cowgirl: Houston, All Systems Go
My mind goes back to the nicely folded clothes, the lined-up boots by the door and his resistance to my drunk, sexy dancing. “Yeah, he is a bit of a Pollyanna, isn’t he?”
“Be nice. With him as best man, you two will be thrown together a lot in the upcoming month or two.”
“Month or two?” I take a large gulp of coffee, scalding the back of my throat.
“Yeah, Flynn wants a quick wedding. Wants to get married before I get too deep into training or get assigned a major project.”
I know I need to respond, but between my seared vocal cords and the unfamiliar feeling of panic rising in my chest, I don’t know what to say. My silence must freak Jackie out.
“Jules? You okay? I mean, if that’s too much for you I can—”
“No.” I speak louder than intended. I swallow a few times, trying to soothe my throat. “I mean, no, I can totally handle it. I have a bit of leave coming up anyway. You know HR is always on my ass about taking vacation after a flight.”
“I don’t want you to have to take vacation, Jules. I know you—”
“Don’t worry about it. Your wedding is the perfect project for me to fill all this free time I have.” I square my shoulders. “I’ve got this.”
My whole life I’ve taken on the hardest jobs, the tightest timelines and the biggest obstacles and I’ve always achieved whatever it is I set out to accomplish. This time it involves the happiness of my best friend. There is no way I’ll let her down. No way I’ll fail.
And there is no way I’m going to let a hot, rich, blushing gentleman get in my way.
Now where is my list pad?
Three
Combustion Chamber
HOLT
Unbelievable.
That’s what that woman is—unbelievable. I bang my hand on the wall of the elevator, hoping to release some of my anger. There I was, trying to be a gentleman, agood guy, making sure she gets home okay, and she acts likenottaking advantage of her whilecomatose is a personal insult. Or that I’m gay.
Who thinks like that?
Okay, I may have gotten a bit defensive about the whole thing because Jules caught me staring at her body. Her wonderfully toned and naked body. But what is a guy supposed to do after having that body grind all over him the night before? I mean, my God, she put on her masturbation soundtrack and stripped! The memory of Jules peeling her tight black leather pants off and kicking them to the side has me adjusting the crotch of my own pants. I closed my eyes after that. Honestly. For most of it.
But what I did see, like that tiny black lace bra and thong, will be forever imprinted on my mind. And my dick.
The elevator doors open to the underground garage and I stomp over to my pickup truck while fishing in my pocket for my keys. It’s an old truck, nothing fancy. But it gets me around the ranch and I don’t have to worry about all the nicks and scratches that come with a hard day’s work. Flynn is always trying to convince me to upgrade. And though my baby brother is damn good at what he does, I don’t get the need to upgrade, replace and soup everything up just because you can. I insert the key, pop the lock, and haul my ass into the seat. I get the truck started, because even in the fall, it’s too hot to sit in an enclosed car in Texas with no a/c. Once I feel the cold air on my face, I drop my head back against the seat.
Deep breaths. That’s what I need.
I’ve always been the cool-headed West sibling. I rarely, if ever, get riled up over anything. Flynn is the charmer. Rose, the firecracker. And I’m the calm in the storm. I’ve always liked my steadiness, even when my brother and sister call me boring. My even-keeled nature allowed us to stay together as a family after our parents died. It helped the ranch get out of the red for the first time in a decade, making it a profitable business rather than a tax write-off side project for oil barons.
So why the heck am I about to rip the steering wheel off the dash?
It doesn’t make sense. In fact, a lot of my thoughts and actions haven’t made sense since Jules floated past the TV camera wearing baggy cargo pants and a wrinkled polo shirt. That day, standing in a bar in Clear Lake, I should’ve been focused on my brother, trying to make up for old mistakes, but instead my eyes were glued to the screen, where Jules called Jackie a hooker while lighting up the whole dang bar from a million miles away with a flirtatious smile and a mass of corkscrew curls.
“Ugh.” I bounce my head against the seat. That smile should’ve been a warning sign. I don’t do flirts. Women who are always giving away smiles can’t be trusted. My mother taught me that. And Julie Starr’s smiles, while freaking fantastic, are freely given—and all the more suspect because of it.
Settling in my seat, I grab my gear shift, only for my phone to ring. Pulling it out of my back pocket, ready to silence the stupid thing, my brother’s name on the screen stops me. After all, Flynn is the reason I drove down to Clear Lake last night in the first place. Not the wickedly sexy brunette in leather pants.
I slide my thumb across the phone. “What’s up, Flynn?”
“Hey, big brother.” Flynn’s tone is amused enough to put me on alert. “A little birdie told me that you never made it back to the ranch last night.”
Another long, slow breath escapes. Rose.
