15. Bi-phase
FIFTEEN
BI-PHASE
Jules
“Cannonball!” a kid yells at the top of his lungs before launching himself off the dock.
It’s taking all my will power not to join in, but seeing as I didn’t bring my suit, and Holt would probably frown on me swimming in my undies, I have magnanimously stepped back from showing these kids how it’s done.
“Easy there, Ryan, don’t slip on the deck!” Holt calls out to the kid, who’s already underwater and oblivious to his concern.
“Chill. Let the kids have their fun.” He glares at me. “Besides, in the immortal words of Keanu Reeves, ‘chicks dig scars.’”
His lip quirks up on one side. “Is that right?”
I trace my fingers down his muscular forearms, gliding over the scar that cuts down the one side. “Yes. That’s right.”
He’s just about to kiss me when I get cock blocked by a ten-year-old.
“You coming, Holt?” The kid has an overbite that would put a chipmunk to shame, but still manages to be cute as hell.
“Nah, I’m going to keep Ms. Starr company while you swim.”
The kid frowns, too young to understand the attraction of the female form, before shrugging and making his way to the edge of the water.
A motor sounds behind me and I turn to see Tucker hopping out of a pickup. Holt maneuvers to his feet, walking over to help unload the fishing gear from the truck bed.
For the next fifteen minutes the men talk over the plan for the ranch, mentioning field rotation, feed quality and all sorts of stuff I haven’t got a clue about. Holt’s face is blank, his tone serious, while Tucker grins with each task he’s given, looking ready to get started on the day.
Holt, finally assured that things will go well without him, waves Tucker to work and sits back down beside me.
Kids squeal, water splashes, and the sun rises higher over the ranch. My short time here has taught me a bit about what it takes to run such a large operation. Now when I see the crew and acres of land, I don’t just think how pretty, but I think of how much work goes into it.
“So this was your dream, huh?” I squint into the light, looking out across the fields beyond the pond. “Working the ranch?”
“Dream?” Holt shrugs. “Maybe.”
That gets my attention. “Maybe? Why else would an oil baron work his ass off on a ranch if it isn’t his dream?”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I realize I’ve asked a question that could lead to feelings. Surprisingly, I still want the answer. I nudge his shoulder. “Huh?”
He sighs, sounding resigned. “It’s where I was happiest.”
“Happiest?” He nods, confusing me. Everything I’ve heard so far from the West siblings implied their childhood hadn’t been the best. “You grew up here, didn’t you? Isn’t this where you raised Flynn and Rose?”
“I’m not sure I did much raising.” His expression is rueful. “More like supervising. And yes, this is where I moved them, but this isn’t where I grew up.”
Oh my God, this guy could never be in communications. And coming from me, that is saying something. “Explain.”
“Dad grew up here with his parents, my grandparents, but when he married Mom she had him buy a penthouse in the city. Said she liked to be in the thick of things.” His tone gives away his feelings on that decision.
“I was eighteen when they died in a drag race. That’s when I moved Flynn and Rose to the ranch for good. ”
“So you grew up in the city?” He nods. “ You?” He nods again, this time with a smile. “ Holt West was a city boy? Really?”
My incredulity gets him laughing. “Yeah, I guess it’s hard to see now, but I went to all the fancy private schools my mom insisted on sending me to in the city. Complete with blazer and tie.”
“Wow.” I look him up and down. “Don’t get me wrong, the cowboy thing really does it for me, but yeah, I’d def like to see the stoic Holt West purdied up in his Sunday best sometime.”
“Sheesh, you talk about me like I’m some sort of Rowdy Yates throwback.”
“Rowdy Yates?”
“From Rawhide ? The black and white western with Clint Eastwood?”
“Doesn’t ring a bell. Maybe because I didn’t grow up in the 1950s when everyone gathered ‘round the radio for their nightly entertainment.”
He sputters. “You know I’m younger than you, right?”
“By two years, cowboy. And you’d never know it from the way you talk and act.”
He shakes his head, laughing again. It’s nice making the normally serious Holt West laugh.
“I may not know black and white westerns, but I do know Clint Eastwood.”
“Oh yeah?” He waves at a kid playing tag across the way. “You a big Eastwood fan?”
“Uh, hello? Space Cowboys ?” I scoff.
“What’s that?”
I blink at him. “Are you serious?” He frowns back. “You’ve never heard of Space Cowboys ?”
He shakes his head.
“I’m judging you so hard right now.”
“What? Why?”
“How do you not know the best space movie ever made?”
“I thought that was Apollo 13 ?”
“Ugh, everyone’s favorite. That was just a retelling, although yes, quite an awesome one.
But it’s so serious . People discount that NASA is actually a pretty fun place to work.
We work hard, but we play hard too.” I lie back, hands behind my head.
“ Space Cowboys —now that’s a movie that really tells it like it is. ”
He stretches out on his side next to me. “Well, you didn’t know Rawhide and that’s a classic.”
“Please. At least my excuse for not knowing Rawhide was that it aired a few centuries ago. Space Cowboys is a badass NASA film about older astronauts getting to go back into space. They filmed a lot on site at JSC. I was still in the Air Force, but being that NASA is government run, which mean low funds for renovations, a lot of those buildings look just the same then as they do now. Sometimes I walk where Clint walked just for shits and giggles.”
He settles on his back, one hand raised to block the sun. “I may not have watched Space Cowboys , but I do know one. Though she’s more space cow girl than cowboy.” He has the decency to cringe at his own joke.
“Dude. You have dad jokes and you aren’t even a dad.”
“So Rose says.”
We sit in silence for a while, eyes closed, listening to the kids play around us.
“You know, I never really thought about what I’d do if the ranch wasn’t here.” In the distance, TJ throws back his head and laughs. “It’s still where I’m happiest, but just not how I thought.”
My eyes open, only to squint against the sunlight. “What do you mean?”
His eyes are still closed. “Best days are when the kids come.” His mouth pulls down at the corners.
“Which makes me feel guilty, ’cause my grandfather worked hard to make the ranch what it is.
He had a hard time of it when my dad flaked out after marrying Mom.
And even though I know helping these kids is important, I feel guilty taking time off from ranch work. ”
I shift to my side, propping myself on my elbow to face him. “But that’s what you have Tucker for, right? Isn’t he, like, your foreman or something?”
“Or something.” He grins. “Lord knows he should be. He’s been ready for more responsibility for the last year or two.
” His dark lashes flutter as he opens his eyes, adjusting to the bright sun.
When he looks at me, gone is the steadfast cowboy, the responsible father figure and controlling attitude.
In its place is vulnerability, uncertainty, and worry.
Things I’ve never found attractive until now.
“But Grandpa relied on me. He signed this place over to me.” He clears his throat. “I’m responsible for all this. I can’t let him down.”
If there was ever a time I needed to know how to deal with feelings, now is it. I said I’d take my cue from Holt when committing to whatever this thing is between us, but I hadn’t thought he’d open up like this.
Give the man some nookie and all his walls comes down. Who knew?
Not knowing what to say, I go with the truth and hope for the best. “Holt, your grandfather sounds like he was a good man. I’m sure you’re right that he worked the ranch because he loved it.
” Holt nods at my words, and I’m encouraged to keep going.
“But I’m pretty sure he gave you the ranch when he passed not to ensure you worked it, but rather to show you that he loves you. That he trusts you with what he loved.”
Thankfully, Holt doesn’t seem annoyed at my thoughts. “But if that’s true, doesn’t that mean that he trusted me to continue his work?”
“Not necessarily.” I speak slowly, trying to wade through my thoughts. “I think he just knew that you loved it here.”
He looks back over the water, watching the kids jump off the dock. “Hmmm.”
“Are you angry that Flynn and Rose don’t work the ranch?”
“What? No. Of course not.”
“Why not?”
“Well, it isn’t what they wanted. Flynn’s always loved cars, he took after our dad that way, and Rose… well, Rose is Rose. She might like wearing the hat and boots and can probably outride me.” He shoots me the side-eye. “Don’t tell her I said that. But she isn’t one to muck any stalls.”
“So why doesn’t it matter what you want?”
“The ranch is my responsibility.”
“Just how much responsibility do you have to take on, cowboy?”
He frowns harder.
“Sure, you’re the oldest, so a lot of decisions came your way. And looking around, and knowing Rose and Flynn, you did a good job. But they’re all grown up. The ranch is successful, but you have oil money to support the land even if it wasn’t. Isn’t it time you did what you wanted to do?”
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t seem mad, so I’m going to mark this feelings talk a success.
Go me.
I lie back to bask in the sun and my general awesomeness when Holt throws me for a loop.
“And you?”
Startled out of my self-congratulations, I hold out my hand to block the sun and look up at him. “What do you mean, ‘and you’?”
He picks up his hat and settles it over his head before shifting his body closer to mine. The wide brim of the hat helps block the sun from my eyes as he leans over me. “Seems a silly question, knowing you, but did you always want to be an astronaut?”
My always ready public relations answer is ‘yes,’ but for some reason I stop myself.
Maybe it’s because Holt was honest with me a minute ago, or maybe I’m just that awesome at relationships and never knew it, but I think it over. “I’m not sure.”
His eyebrows shoot up under his hat. “Really?”
I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, really.”
“So what did you want to do?”
I settle back under his shade, a deep sigh escaping me. “The truth is, I can’t remember wanting something that wasn’t purposely in direct opposition of what the general wanted me to do.”
“Someone actually tried to tell you what to do?”
I laugh, thankful for Holt’s light tone. “I know, right?”
Holt’s hand rests on my hip and heat that has nothing to do with the sun washes over me. “So what did the general want you to do?”
“Teacher or nurse.” My lips twist to the side. “Respectable occupations for women.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“Why such indignation? I thought that would be right up your alley. You know, little lady waiting at home for her man to be done with a hard day’s work on the ranch.”
His hand leaves my hip to rub the back of his neck. “Ah...”
Regretting teasing him, I plow on. “The general has a very 1950s American idea on how life should be. You might be Rowdy Yates, but my father is basically Mr. Cleaver in a uniform.” I frown, thinking of my childhood.
“I take that back; he wasn’t nearly as parental as Mr. Cleaver.
” I laugh, but it doesn’t sound very cheerful.
“The general could never understand why his little girl wouldn’t wear dresses, swore like a sailor and wanted to not only play with the boys, but kick all their asses. ”
His hand resettles on my hip, and the warmth dissipates the coldness my memories had stirred up. “Once you went into the Air Force, did things change? I mean, as a military man, how could he not be proud of your service?”
Another hollow laugh. “Oh, he managed it. The day I accepted my scholarship and joined AROTC was the last day we spoke.”
“What about your mom?”
“She calls every so often, reminding me of all their disappointments.” Jesus, I’m spiraling. Once you open the gate to feelings, they all want to come out.
“You’re an astronaut. How can they be disappointed?”
Putting a lid on it, I muster up a smirk. “The Starrs are an obstinate bunch, cowboy.”
Thankfully, he laughs. “Ain’t that the truth.”
“Hey.” I backhand his shoulder, but I do it smiling.
“Anyway, I’m not sure what I wanted when I was younger, but I can honestly say I love what I do now.
I can’t wait to get up in the morning and see what new research we’re conducting, or international agreements we’re making, or suiting up and training in simulators.
” Raising my arms, I circle his neck. His hand grips my hip a bit harder.
“Being in space… well, there’s nothing like it. I was born for it.”
A slow, lazy smile lifts his lips. Lips that traced all the contours of my body last night. I shiver.
“But you know, cowboy, this is the first time in a long time that I’ve felt anything as awe-inspiring as micro-gravity here on Earth.”
As Holt’s lust-filled eyes move in closer, as his lips descend on mine, I wonder if either of us have a strong enough tether to hold us safely together.
“Ew, man,” TJ yells from the pond, startling Holt and me apart. “Get a room!”