3. Event Horizon #2
Well, that is definitely the wrong thing to say to me . Anger mixes with my frustration and panic. I feel the woman I’d become in the garage rise and I give in to it because it’s easier and probably more efficient than giving in to the others.
“What kind of guy? I don’t know, the kind who instead of thanking the person who got Rose home safely yells at them and then threatens unwarranted violence against their person?
The kind of guy who gives that same person a hard time when coming to them for help with their car after their girlfriend dented it?
That kind of person?” I huff out a breath.
“Never mind, I don’t have time for this.
I’ll hitchhike.” I spin on my heel and stride toward the road.
But before I have time to stick my thumb out, I’m lifted off my feet and thrown over a muscular shoulder.
“What the heck?”
“Calm down. I’m taking you to work.” Flynn’s arm is anchored under my ass, which is pointed skyward and jostling with every step he takes toward his car.
I’m being manhandled. I’ve never been manhandled.
I have no idea what to do. So I do nothing. This seems to suit Flynn just fine. He crosses the lot, opens the passenger door with his free hand and flops me down onto the seat. How he manages to do all that without breaking a sweat, or my head on the car, is beyond me.
Flynn gets behind the wheel and wastes no time bringing the car to life. He looks over at me, eyebrow cocked. Him mirroring my earlier expression is not lost on me.
When I get myself and my lady parts under control from the unexpected hum of the engine, I answer his unasked question. “Follow NASA 1 under the overpass toward Saturn Drive.”
While Flynn maneuvers out of the parking lot, I make use of my phone. I also make use of my Kegel exercises as the car continues to growl.
“Ian? It’s Jackie. Yeah, I heard. Listen. I need you to come get me at the badging office. The, uh, guy who’s giving me a ride doesn’t have clearance.” I cut my eyes over to Flynn. He raises his eyebrows at ‘clearance.’
“Thanks.”
Ian does not sound pleased. Apparently, I’m inconveniencing everyone today.
“Take a left on Saturn, then stay in the right lane.”
“Where do you work?”
I don’t answer, but he does as asked.
The car is silent. I don’t bother trying to fill it, I’m too busy trying to contain my hair in the wind whipping around the convertible.
“Turn here.”
“NASA? You work at NASA?” Clay, one of the security officers, approaches Flynn’s window, preventing me from reacting to Flynn’s apparent shock. I grab my security badge from my purse and lean across Flynn to show the guard.
“He’s just giving me a ride.” I motion to Flynn with my thumb. “I have another NASA employee picking me up to take me in. We just need to pull into the badging office.” Clay nods and waves us over.
The badging office is right next to the security post. This is common protocol for non-employees. Everyone is required to have a badge to go any farther on NASA property, even guests of employees.
I lean back and loop the lanyard attached to my badge over my head, pulling my mess of hair through it.
Flynn makes the immediate right into the parking lot, cutting confused, side-eye glances at me as he does.
Ian’s already there, leaning against his car.
I’ve never really noticed cars before, but I do now.
Maybe it’s because I’ve gone from driving my junker to riding in Flynn’s bad boy car.
Who knows? But right now, as I open Flynn’s car door with a distracted “thanks” and hop out, I realize Ian has a really nice car too.
Whereas Flynn’s is all muscle, Ian’s is what I would call sleek.
The cars seem a perfect match for their owners.
“Who’s this?” Ian’s head jerks in Flynn’s direction.
Hmm. Maybe good looking men are incapable of polite greetings.
I glance back to see that Flynn has gotten out of the car. He makes his way around the back end to stand next to me, arms crossed, jump suit still tied around his waist.
I wave my hand in Flynn’s direction. “This is Flynn. He owns West Auto. He’s fixing my car.
” I realize that might not be true after my little hissy fit.
Justifiable hissy fit, but still. The question must have been evident in my voice because even though he keeps his eyes on Ian, he nods.
I clear my throat. “Yes, well, I had just dropped off my car to be fixed when the call came in about the EVA problems,” I continue.
“Flynn was nice enough to give me a ride.” I don’t think anyone missed the sarcasm I laid on there.
Flynn grins. I have to actively look away so my brain doesn’t shut down again.
And although Ian is one good-looking guy, my brain seems to function just fine around him, even when we aren’t talking shop, as it were. Ian simply looks annoyed. Which is understandable as I’ve called him out of the office during an emergency. The EVA results must be worse than I thought.
It takes me a second, but I realize that neither of the men are particularly interested in me, or even aware of me. They’re staring each other down like boxers before the bell.
Men (insert eyeroll here). String Theory is more easily understood, I swear.
Moving closer to Ian’s car, I try and break the stare down. “We should go. I want to take a look at the footage from the ISS cameras. I need to ascertain the extent of the corrosion so we can get an emergency spacewalk operational as soon as possible.”
Ian finally looks at me. He’s what I like to think of as Polo Guy.
The all-American, Ralph Lauren model kind of man.
Sandy blond hair, blue eyes, straight white teeth.
I’ve never really let my thoughts wander too much in his direction as he’s my co-worker, no matter what Jules has said.
But if what she says is true and he likes me?
I have to admit, that would be pretty darn flattering.
“Sure thing, hon.” Ian sweeps his arm in the direction of his car. He’s never called me hon before. It’s unprofessional. I decide it’s best not to think on that and deal with the more important things happening at the moment.
I turn back to Flynn. “Uh, thanks?” He smiles again and funny things happen to my stomach. “Call me.” Crap. “I mean, call when you have an estimate on my car.”
The heat is getting to me. That is the only excuse I’ll accept for my moronic behavior.
In answer, Flynn steps closer. He places his hands on my shoulders, leans down and kisses me.
Kisses. Me.
It is light. Barely there. A whisper, really. I can almost pretend it didn’t happen. Almost.
“Yeah, I’ll call you.”
And then he gets in his car and growls out of the parking lot.
The short ride to MCC is quiet. Ian must be worried about the ISS.
I should be too, but I’m really thinking about that kiss.
I can still feel the whisper of him on my lips.
Why would he do that? Wait, what about Rose?
True, the girl has been nothing but trouble, but I like her, and I let her boyfriend kiss me.
Guilt has me trying to focus back on the recent EVA.
“It’ll be okay, Ian, we’ll fix the main computer. I’m sure we can bypass the main cable, or even replace it with another onboard.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The corrosion Jules’ EVA uncovered.” I take in his tense jaw. “Isn’t that why you’re upset?”
“No, Jackie. That is not why I am upset. It should be why I am upset. But it isn’t.”
“Is it because I asked you to come get me? I’m really sorry, it’s just that?—”
“Really?”
Okay, now I’m getting a little mad—again. Ian seems to be projecting his bad mood onto me.
All this anger is disconcerting. I’m not an angry person.
In fact, I rarely raise my voice. I don’t often curse.
I’m rational. Logical. But ever since I stood in a space-race era bungalow and had my butt erroneously handed to me by a drool-worthy mechanic, my anger seems to be set to a constant simmer.
“Then why are you giving me the stink eye?” I huff, too late realizing that crossing my arms after I ask makes me look like a child having a tantrum.
His lips twitch. “Stink eye?”
“Yes.” I face front and lower my arms as he pulls into the MCC lot. “I don’t like it.”
A long sigh escapes his mouth before he switches off the ignition with a button.
A button ignition. That is so cool. Maybe my new car, which is inevitably in my near future, will have a button starter.
But Ian’s doesn’t growl like that GTO. In fact, it is oddly silent.
Which makes Ian’s inspection of me now all the more uncomfortable.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Jackie.”
Startled with Ian’s thought process, I answer, “You too. I mean, man. Beautiful man.” I feel my brow furrow. Can a man be beautiful?
Ian laughs.
I smile, feeling some of the tension dissolve. “What do our aesthetics have to do with the EVA failure?”
Still smiling, Ian shakes his head. “Know what? Never mind. Just be careful, okay?”
Huh. I usually don’t do well with implications, but evidence might suggest Ian is referring to Flynn and not the EVA when he says ‘be careful.’ I guess, if I look at this logically, it makes sense, if what Jules said about Ian wanting to ask me out is true.
I’m not sure how I feel about that. It isn’t that Ian isn’t attractive.
He is. Very. As one may deduce from my previous Ralph Lauren model comment.
But I’ve gotten involved with someone I worked with before. It didn’t end well. And even with all of Ian’s handsomeness not a foot away from me, I’m still thinking about that next-to-nothing kiss from a guy I’d been so sure didn’t like me.
“Sure thing,” I say, as it seems I need to say something to get us past… whatever this is.
Ian rolls his eyes. “Let’s just get to the Flight Investigation Teams meeting.”
On our walk to Building Five, I try to focus on the meeting ahead.
But that kiss .
I shake my head hard. Rose is my friend. I think. And as a friend, I should be indignant on her behalf. I will simply ignore the aftershock panty tingles my downtown is currently experiencing. They must be from the muscle car’s engine. Not the kiss.
My phone vibrates as I scan my badge into the security door after Ian. A text from an unknown number pops up.
BTW, thanks for getting my sister home safely last night.
Sister? Rose is his sister ?
The tingles shall not be ignored.