Page 81 of Space Cowgirl: Houston, All Systems Go
She snatches up her bag, threading her arms through the straps. “I think I made that same argument to my dad before I left for college and the Air Force.” She straightens the bottom of her jacket. “Told myself I’d never allow myself to be in a situation where I’d have to make it to someone I actually cared about.”
And with those words, my breath leaves me. “Babe, I—”
“No.” Her voice is unyielding, like the officer she once was. “Do notbabeme. I spent my childhood being told by a man that I was too loud, too brash, too everything a girl shouldn’t be. That I was the reason his life wasn’t the perfect picture he’d dreamt of.”
I want to speak, but I’m too shocked by the tears welling up in her eyes. I’ve broken her.
“It took a long time to realize the very things the general looked down on me for were not weaknesses, they arestrengths.” She blinks, once, twice, forcing the tears away. In seconds, her PR smile is in place. She could almost be a statue, except for the one hand rubbing the spot above her heart. “And I’ll be damned if I let some disappointed momma’s boy make me feel bad about myself.”
And with that she’s gone, her footsteps muffled by the carpet. I stand there, letting her go. Listening to her stomping into her boots in the foyer, flinching when the front door slams and feeling my gut hollow out in regret when her bike roars to life.
Engine vibrations rattle the windows and the sound of her bike fades as she races down the drive. Then there’s nothing.
I’m alone, and it’s quiet. Just like it used to be. But worse, somehow.
Twenty-One
Ace in the Hole
Jules
I’m in Munchkin Land.
Or at least, that’s what it feels like.
Up in the International Space Station, I’m no stranger to sleeping in small nooks and crannies. But without zero gravity taking the pressure off my joints, sleeping in Trish’s small, twin-sized bed really fucking sucks.
My knee bangs into the wall,again, as I try and get comfortable. “Damn it.”
I was not built for this tin can.
After a few more tosses, a few more turns and a hell of lot more cursing, I give up. Between planning the various ways I could castrate a certain cowboy, followed by replaying all the things I could’ve said or done differently between us, sleep isn’t about to come easy. Especially when all that second-guessing myself brings me full circle into wanting to junk punch Holt, and my anger spikes again.
Tonight, besides the cramped accommodations, I’m also hyper aware of every noise outside these metal walls. From the distant sound of midnight traffic on Route 96 to the closer, more populated chirping of crickets right outside my door.
All day the stalker has been silent. No threats, no pictures or gifs—nothing.
And that makes me incredibly nervous.
Pain shoots up my foot when I stub my toe on the desk that’s butted up to the foot of the bed. Her bed is wedged into the corner, with one wall butted up along its side, the other acting as a pseudo headboard. How Trish sleeps in this coffin-like atmosphere is beyond me.
“Okay.” I throw back the covers, hitting my hand on the wall. “Fuck this.”
Groaning, I sit up, careful not to hit anything else, and scoot off the one open side of the bed. Before shuffling off to the living area, I grab the shotgun I have propped up against the wall, which, as per Trish’s instructions, I keep loaded and nearby at night.
Probably to defend against the wicked witch in case she comes flying in with her monkeys.
Hunching my shoulders as I walk keeps me from hitting my head on the curved ceiling unless I veer too far off from the center, but in my exhausted daze my foot knocks over a basket half-stuffed under her desk.
Son of a bitch. With a half sigh, half whine, I flick on the desk lamp and drop to my knees to gather the scattered notebooks. Why Trish has a basket of notebooks, I have no idea. The woman chooses to live in metal purgatory; maybe notebooks is part of the charm.
Crazy Southerner.
A title, scrawled in pink sharpie, catches my eye.Georgia Heat.
Well, well, well. What do we have here?
Someone to Watch Over, Cowboy’s Charm, One Night Lover
