Space cowgirl houston al.., p.1
Space Cowgirl: Houston, All Systems GO (Space Series Book 2), page 1
SPACE COWGIRL
HOUSTON, ALL SYSTEMS GO
SARA L HUDSON
Copyright © 2020 by Sara L Hudson
All rights reserved.
Editing Services: Kasi Alexander
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
www.SaraLHudson.com
For all the girls who ever wanted to ride a cowboy
Yee Haw
CONTENTS
1. Atmospheric Reentry
2. Hitch in the Giddy-up
3. Combustion Chamber
4. Round-up
5. Systems Check
6. Move ‘em Out
7. Angle of Attack
8. Bogey
9. Cowboy Up
10. Orbital Trim Maneuver
11. Crackerbox
12. Gravitational Waves
13. Yeehaw
14. Sixes and Sevens
15. Bi-phase
16. Mavericks
17. Modulation
18. Acock
19. Hobbled
20. Alpha Mike Foxtrot
21. Ace in the Hole
22. Gravity Assist
23. Belly-up
24. Kick the Tires and Light the Fires
25. All Systems GO
Epilogue
Space Oddities: Chapter One
Also by Sara L Hudson
About the Author
ONE
ATMOSPHERIC REENTRY
Jules
* * *
Spinning. So much spinning.
Lights flash beneath my eyelids and the temperature of my surroundings heats to an uncomfortable level. My lungs struggle for breath. When the end comes, it’s violent in its abruptness. There’s a sudden loss of time and space perception before my ass is slapped like a bull about to buck in the arena.
My dance partner grunts in appreciation and raises his hand to get another brief feel of my ass, but I swerve beyond his reach. Keeping in time with the beat, I continue out of his path and off the dance floor in search of a drink.
I like to dance. I like to dance with my eyes closed even more. It reminds me of reentry inside the claustrophobic Soyuz capsule. Dancing and speeding through the atmosphere toward the planet we call Earth are both beautiful in their carefully orchestrated violence.
At least the way I like to dance is.
Or live, for that matter.
“Jules!” My new friend Rose waylays me as I head to the bar. “Damn, girl, you can dance. I swear, if this were Vegas I’d make a move on you.”
I hook my arm in hers and continue to where I can get some much-needed alcohol. “Why just Vegas?”
She shrugs, her constant mischievous grin in place. “I don’t know. It seems to be where my latent lesbian tendencies dwell.” She looks me up and down from the corner of her eye. “But I could always give you a go. Maybe Big Texas will resurface some hoo-ha fantasies.”
Laughing, I rap my knuckles on the bar, getting the attention of one of the bartenders. I’ve been gone a few months, and though I stopped being surprised by how the world continues to spin while I’m in zero gravity, this time was different. So much of my world has changed.
At the far end of the oak bar top, Jackie’s perched on the lap of a hot piece of ass. Flynn. Apparently, my best friend took my recent pep talk, a.k.a. blackmail, to heart and found herself a social life. A social life complete with hot mechanic sexy times.
I can’t complain. It’s obvious Jackie’s new boyfriend worships her genius brain as much as her long, long legs, and her new friends welcomed me home like I’d known them all my life. Like real family should.
“What can I get you, sweet cheeks?”
Before I can open my mouth to answer the cute bartender smirking my way, Rose pipes up. “Sweet cheeks? Oh, Billy, you need some new material. Sweet cheeks may work on the bleached-out, rhinestoned-up cougar clientele you usually associate with.” She waves toward the crowded mass. “But this here is the living legend, America’s sweetheart, Astronaut Julie Starr.”
Billy takes a long look at me, eyes and mouth widening.
“Show some respect and get some new material for the recently returned to Earth hero, will ya?” Rose snaps her fingers at Billy’s slack jaw.
I laugh and wave away Rose’s words. “Really, no need. Sweet cheeks works.” I twist to look down at my ass. “After all, my ass is pretty damn sweet.”
Billy recovers, as does his smile. “Well, ladies, this calls for a drink on the house.”
“Beer for me,” I say. But he gives me a funny look and places three shot glasses on the bar.
Rose elbows me in the boob. “Hey, if the man wants to give you free liquor, you take the free liquor.” As if she didn’t just give me an inverted nipple, Rose fluffs her wavy blond hair and adjusts her bra, leaving her plentiful cleavage just this side of indecent.
I shrug, not even bothering to touch the chaos on top of my head. I’m back in the land of humidity and already sweaty from spinning on the dance floor; no telling what my mop-top of curls will look like if I try a come-hither hair flip. I’d probably look like an electrocuted poodle.
“Think Jackie wants one? Or Trish?” I ask, looking down the bar again.
“I think Jackie’s too busy sucking my brother’s face off.” Rose rolls her eyes. “Ugh, so gross.”
I glance over at the couple making out like it’s her last night on Earth. And for Jackie, I’m sure that time won’t be too far off. She was recently promoted to astronaut and her training starts soon. I can’t wait for us both to be on the ISS together. I’m going to angle hard to be on her first mission. “Where’s Trish?”
“Probably trying to lose her tail.”
“Tail?” I straighten up. “Someone hassling her?”
“Calm down there, bruiser,” Rose says, patting my arm. “I meant Ian. Ever since the dude locked eyes on her, he’s been following her around like a puppy dog.” She snorts. “Well, a really fine-looking puppy dog who tries to pretend he isn’t infatuated when in reality he’s one step away from stalkerville.”
A chill races down my spine at the word stalker. I focus on the three shot glasses in front of me, trying not to think about the stockpile of disturbing messages that I’m sure awaits me in my social media accounts. I’ll deal with that later. Or not.
I vote not.
I don’t even ask what’s in the shots. As soon as Billy lowers the shaker, I pick up the glass closest to me and knock it back. I knock back the next as well, but when I reach for the third, Rose blocks me and snatches it up.
“Back off, astro-girl. This one’s mine.”
While Rose shoots her shot, I wink to Billy in apology for taking his. He smiles and winks back. “I can always pour myself another. Perk of the job and all.” He leans over the bar and into my space, his slow, drawn-out smile making no bones about what he wants. “You want a third, Astronaut Starr?”
“No, she’s good.”
The warmth from the alcohol has nothing on the fire streaming through my veins at the sound of the deep voice behind me. Taking my time, I turn toward the speaker, knowing exactly who I’ll find.
And yep, there he is, pure sex poured into cowboy boots. Boots that have actually seen a hard day’s work on a cattle ranch and aren’t just for show. Dark blue Levis topped off with a tight black T-shirt that looks surprisingly new. The front is tucked behind a modest-sized belt buckle, scratched and dull instead of shiny and decked out in bling. An honest-to-goodness cowboy hat acts as the cherry on top of this sexy-man sundae. Not one of those stupid, bigger-than-a-Cadillac, ten-gallon things that a lot of these cowboy posers wear, but a low profile black hat that’s worn well and hard, just like the man sporting it.
Yummy.
I bat my lashes and bring my hand to my chest. “Why, Holt West, I do declare.”
Holt
* * *
I try not to smile at the Southern syrup dripping off Miss Starr’s words. But with my mind on her tall, lithe form, it’s kind of hard. When I first saw Julie standing at the bar next to my sister, all I could see was her firm rear end pushing the limits of her tight leather pants. That’s right, we’re in a Texas saloon and the lady is wearing leather pants. God love her.
Her Ziggy Stardust T-shirt looks like it’s been through a meat grinder. It drapes over one shoulder, showing off a thin black bra strap, and the bottom of the shirt is tied at the waist. The knot in question rides up, giving me a glimpse of her navel as she leans back, both elbows on the bar behind her, crossing her shit-kicker biker boots at the ankles.
My sister has no such qualms and she openly snorts at Jules’ sarcastic Southern twang. “Nice, Jules.” Rose looks at me. “What’re you doing here? A
A long-suffering sigh escapes me. I know I don’t leave the ranch very often. I can’t. I’ve got a business to run and people depending on me. But now that I’ve patched things up with my brother, and him being all but attached at the hip to his new girlfriend, Jackie, I want to make more of an effort to be involved. With Rose. With Flynn. Their friends.
Rose leans in and gives me a quick hug. I don’t tell her enough, but for all her smart-mouth ways, I love her the most. She’s the most positive force in my life. Always has been. Even after Gramps’ death and then our parents’, her smiles light up the room. Hell, even when Flynn and I acted like grade-A jerks, her positivity was the glue that kept us from becoming completely unhinged.
“Miss Starr.” I nod in Julie’s direction.
“You can call me Jules, hot stuff.” She lifts her chin at someone behind me. I turn to catch some guy with a pseudo mullet leering in her direction.
“Friend of yours?” I ask, hoping she doesn’t hear the tightness in my voice.
“That’s Doug. I let him twirl me around on the dance floor a while ago.” She watches the guy walk away. “Good footwork, but too handsy for me to give him a second round.”
I swallow the jealousy I feel toward douche bag Doug. She can dance with whomever she wants. I don’t care. After watching my father second-guess every glance between my mother and another man, I’m determined never to let a woman have that much control over me.
Jules lifts her chin at yet another douche bag. This one with actual rhinestones on his belt buckle. I step up to her, cutting off her line of sight to the rest of the crowd. One of my boots on either side of hers.
All I get in response is a raised eyebrow.
“Geez, caveman much, bro?” Rose swivels in place and raises her hand in Flynn and Jackie’s direction. I guess the lovebirds finally came up for air. “While I truly enjoy you metaphorically banging your fists on your chest, I’ve already witnessed this ride with Flynn.” She blows a kiss at us before walking away. “Good luck, brother dear,” she calls out over her shoulder.
I’m grateful for the dim lighting. For a guy, I blush easily, and it’s annoying as all get-out.
I turn my head back to Jules to find her slugging back a beer, her wide mouth wrapped around the opening. Another twitch in my pants has me shifting in my boots.
“Where’d that come from?”
She raises a finger, telling me to wait. And I do, while she chugs back the entire thing, slamming down the bottle and then licking her lips. Her wet, full lips.
“Listen, Paco, I already have a dad, I don’t need another. Hell, I don’t even want the one I have.” Her brows furrow, like she doesn’t know where that last bit came from. But I soak it up. Jules is hard to get a read on, so I’ll take everything she gives, even if it’s alcohol induced. “I can drink what I like, when I like. Especially when the bartender tells me a fan of mine bought it.” She smiles seductively. “Don’t want to disappoint the fans, now, do I?”
“Paco?”
“Hey. Paco is a cool-as-shit name. Sheesh, you racist or something?”
“I’m not racist. That’s just not my name.” I can actually feel my blood pressure rising. “And you should know better than to accept drinks from strangers. Jesus, Jules. That’s Drinking 101.”
Jules remains unfazed by my tone. “Billy gave me the beer from the fan. I’m sure he vetted the dude.” She tilts her head to the side in thought. “Or girl. Chicks dig me.”
I blanch at this. The twitch I’ve been fighting in my pants becomes a full-blown salute at the thought of Jules naked with another woman.
“In fact, your sister propositioned me just a bit ago.”
Annnnnnd, the salute drops.
“Sheesh.” I rub my hand down my face.
She laughs. “I know, right? I’m on fire tonight.” She pushes up from the bar, her height putting the top of her head level with my nose. Which is some feat, as she isn’t even wearing heels. She’s at least five eight, maybe five nine, coming in a few inches below my six foot one.
Jules makes a move to step past me but falters, her shoulder banging into mine.
“Whoa, there.” I reach out and steady her, but she brushes my hands away.
“I’m not one of your horses, cowboy. ‘Whoa’ someone else. I’m good.” Then she saunters away, a little unsteady, but still hot as hell in those tight leather pants. She’s right, she isn’t one of my horses, but I still can’t help wanting to get her in the saddle.
Twenty minutes later and I’m concerned. I haven’t been here long enough to know how much Jules drank, but her eyes look unfocused and she’s leaning heavily on the wall next to the table the group commandeered earlier. Getting a table on a crowded Saturday night hadn’t been so much luck as having an inside advantage—Trish is one of Big Texas’s bartenders.
I refocus on the petite Southern lady, wondering why my manhood won’t twitch in her direction. Trish is exactly my type. Polite, dainty, a nice, sweet smile on her lips. She’s dressed in a denim skirt and wearing heels so high she must have to balance on her tiptoes just to walk around. She’s friendly and seems laid-back, the perfect woman for sharing a cup of coffee on the ranch’s porch before I start a long day of hard labor. She’s the kind of woman who would probably bake me banana bread just because she knows it’s my favorite.
And yet she does nothing but conjure up friendly, sisterly feelings as she sits on one of the bar stools while some guy named Ian, who I don’t know very well, gazes at her like she hung the moon. He catches me looking at Trish and glowers.
I turn my attention back to Jules. She’s still propped up against the wall, long legs crossed just like her arms are over her chest. Uninviting, but alluring. Like the kind of girl who would chew you up and spit you out after a night of hard loving. I have a feeling if I told her I like banana bread she’d scoff, make an anatomically incorrect gesture, then determinedly devour a raw steak in front of me to make me feel like an idiot for liking baked goods. Jules isn’t easy and her smile is more sexy than sweet, but she’s the one that my whole body locks on to, the one certain parts of my anatomy salute.
Suddenly, Jules scrunches her eyes closed, then opens them in a series of blinks. The tight curls around her face shake as she straightens from her place on the wall and steps toward the table.
“Hey Jackie, I—”
She never finishes her sentence because she falls forward, luckily catching herself on the back of Jackie’s barstool.
I move fast around the table, but Flynn gets to Jules before I can, his hands under her arms, lifting her up. I try not to think about how close his fingers are to her breasts, and instead focus on her face, which is slightly pale and sweaty.
“Jules! You okay?” Jackie asks, her hand cupping Jules’ cheek.
“Fuck. I think I may have miscalculated my alcohol tolerance since landing.” She’s trying to laugh it off, so I can’t tell if her slightly slurred speech is from amusement or from the amount of drinks she’s had.
“I’ve never seen you like this. You’re usually a tank.” Jackie looks up to Flynn, the panic in her eyes telling me more than her words that this isn’t normal Jules behavior. Jackie jumps down off her stool. “Let’s get her home, Flynn.”
Flynn nods, though I know it’s reluctantly. It isn’t that he wouldn’t do anything for Jackie’s friends, but he told me earlier that he had something special planned for Jackie tonight, and I’m sure that didn’t include playing babysitter to his girlfriend’s drunk bestie.
“That’s okay, I’ll take her.”
All eyes turn to me, and quite a few smirks. Stupid busybodies.
