2. Hitch in the Giddy-up #2
Huh. A hot, rich guy who blushes and is an actual gentleman. This man could be my kryptonite.
“You should leave.”
He blinks, and his open expression closes down, giving me nothing.
He stands, and I really wish I’dbeen sitting down, higher ground be damned, because as I take in his body, from the strong lines of his shoulders down the planes of his defined abs to the length of his solid muscular thighs, my legs suddenly feel weak.
I despise weak.
Turns out he isn’t naked. He has on black boxers with orange pumpkins on them. They’re ridiculous.
I love them.
Holt turns and gathers up his jeans and shirt that are folded neatly by his side of the bed.
I have no idea why, but I find the thought of him taking the time to fold his clothes before going to bed completely endearing. I shake it off.
He dresses methodically, in no rush, even though I am effectively kicking him out after he’s done nothing but look out for me.
I watch every muscle twitch and bunch in the process of his dressing.
I’m aware that I am probably being a total creeper in addition to Bitch of the Year, but I shake that off too.
He’s seen me in all my glory, not once, but twice, thanks to the robe malfunction, and it’s rare that one is presented with such a magnificent specimen of a man.
I’m going to look my full. I’ll put it in my spank bank for later.
Holt straightens and walks toward me. I find myself trying to fold my arms across my chest, curse myself and force them back down to my sides.
He stops with two inches between us. I’m five foot nine and a half inches. I’m tall for an astronaut and a woman, and I’ve always relished the advantage my height gives me. I don’t have that advantage now. Holt has to be well over six feet.
“Yes?” Shit. I sound breathless and all ‘take me now.’
“Bathroom.” His nostrils flare. “Or will me hitting the head take up too much of your time?” His voice is smooth and hard, like the sound of a blade sharpening on a leather strap. My nipples harden under my robe.
“Uh, yes. I mean, no. No, of course not.” I step to the side and wave my arm in the direction of the bathroom. “By all means.”
He says nothing but walks into my small ensuite and closes the door.
I don’t know how long he’ll take, so I can’t take the chance of getting dressed while he’s in there. But I also can’t stand there listening to him pee. That’s just weird. Even for me.
I hurry the few steps into my kitchen. A kitchen whose sole purpose is to hold my Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University, United States Air Force, and NASA coffee mugs along with the finest Hawaiian Kona coffee one can buy. So much better than that weak coffee-water available on the ISS.
I pluck the Air Force mug from the cabinet and start running the coffee machine, the only appliance I own.
As the pot starts heating up, I’m annoyed to see my fingers tapping nervously on the counter.
Anxiety I haven’t felt since my father discovered I’d signed up for AFROTC without his permission is fighting its way to the foreground. I push it back and still my hands.
The pot has just finished filling up when Holt walks into the room.
It’s a large room, which feels even larger due to the limited amount of furniture I have, but with Holt here, it feels more intimate, closed in.
I follow his eyes as he takes in the space, seeing what he sees.
A wall of floor-to-ceiling windows leading to a balcony that overlooks Clear Lake.
An open concept living area that includes a kitchen, kitchen island with one stool, and a family room with one oversized, overstuffed chair complete with matching ottoman.
A large TV is mounted on the wall, wires hanging down to the floor where my cable box rests.
I guess I can’t count the TV tray that serves as my side table as an actual piece of furniture, can I?
And of course, more lists taped on walls.
Holt’s eyes come back to me and then to the door on the other side of the room. He’d taken off his boots at the door. They’d been dropped there, but lined up against the wall, out of the way. The sight of those well-worn cowboy boots sitting just so on the tile floor does something to me.
“You want coffee?”
Eyes as dark as my precious Kona beans find mine again, one brow quirked up. For a minute I think they soften, but he blinks and the expression is gone.
“No, thanks.” He crosses over to his boots, picks them up and unlocks the front door. Not looking back, he swings it open, crosses over the threshold and lets it close softly behind him.
I hear him stomp into his boots on the other side of the door before his steps fade down the hall.
My phone blasts, making me jump out of whatever reverie I’d been having. Striding back to my room, I pluck it from the stereo docking station. Draped across a speaker is my underwear from last night. Black lace. Well, at least the show I gave Holt had been a good one.
Jackie’s pretty, four-eyed face lights up my screen under the name NASA’s Darling. NASA’s PR is having a field day between Jackie Darling Lee and Julie Starr, aka NASA’s Starr. It’s just another thing Jackie and I have to bond over— stupid monikers.
I don’t remember much of last night, so I’m not sure what all Jackie knows or what I have to be defensive about. I need to get my shit together before I face the firing squad. I take a deep breath and slide my finger across the screen, mustering up all my bravado. “Hey, hooker, what’s shaking?”
“I’m engaged!”
I pull the phone away from my ear so I don’t go deaf from her squealing.
Seriously. My shy, nerdy homegirl is squealing.
It seems I’ve missed quite a bit during the six months I was in space.
And usually I’m okay with that. Space is what I wanted.
But lately I’ve found myself rubbing my sternum every time I’m reminded about what I’m missing here on Earth.
“That’s amazing, Jackie-girl. I’m so happy for you.” I drop my hand from my chest and clear my throat, unsure why I’m feeling so emotional. “But don’t think just because Flynn locked it down that he’s off the hook from my interrogation. I still need to make sure he meets my standards.”
Jackie laughs. “Jules, I doubt anyone could meet your standards. You’re in a league all your own.”
I pause to look at the door Holt just exited. “True story, my dear. True story.”
Jackie laughs again. “Did you have fun last night?”
Her tone turns sly, and my defenses kick into high gear.
“Things got a little crazy at Big Texas,” she hedges. “I’ve never seen you that hammered before.”
“Really?” I’m not a lush, but I’ve tied one on a time or two with Jackie before.
“You don’t remember?” Jackie asks, this time with concern in her voice.
“I’m just playing. Of course I remember.” I do not remember. “I wasn’t that drunk.” Oh my God, I’d been that drunk. “But you know me—work hard, play hard.”
“I do know you. And I know Holt. Who just happened to text Flynn letting him know you got home safely last night.”
“Oh?”
Jackie heaves a sigh through the phone. “Don’t ‘Oh’ me, Julie Starr.
Since we’ve met, you’vebeen on my butt about getting me hooked up, even resorting to blackmail, for heaven’s sake.
” Her voice keeps rising with each word, and I have to pull the phone away from my ear again.
“If you leave with a hot guy, who now happens to be my future brother-in-law, then I’m owed details! ”
“Calm down, NASA Darling, calm down. Nothing happened.” Which is true. I just decide not to mention the strip tease. Or the sleeping naked beside him. Or the being a major bitch to him. “He just made sure I got home safe.”
“Oh.” She sounds so disappointed I almost cave and tell her more. Until she says, “Well, I guess that’s a good thing, as you guys will be seeing each other a lot and I wouldn’t want any awkward one-night-stand stuff getting in the way.”
“Yeah, we—wait, what? What do you mean we’ll be seeing each other a lot? And getting in the way of what?”
“Planning the wedding.”
Silence.
“You willbe my maid of honor, right?”
I stagger back, feeling like I’ve been dealt aphysical blow.
From the moment I saw Jackie hunched over her console at work, pencils stuck in her messy ponytail and her pristine white Converse shoes bouncing on the floor, I’d known she and I were going to be friends.
Two women, both succeeding in a field dominated by men, it was clear we should join forces.
And our friendship was cemented the night I’d gotten her drunk and she’d confessed her cowboy romance obsession to me.
But never, in all our shenanigans, did I think she’d choose me to be her maid of honor. I never thought anyone would choose me.
I blink a few times, rub my sternum and take a few deep breaths through my nose before responding.
“Of course, hooker. I’d be honored.”
I swear I can hear her smile through the phone.
“Yes! But try not to call me hooker in your maid of honor speech, okay? Holt has a thing about cursing.”
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?