She blew out her breath. “Men are so funny. They are mad for like two seconds, and then you distract them and they completely forget what they were pissed about.”
I opened my mouth to reply when I detected someone at my shoulder. Keely pulled back, and I turned to see my Dad standing there. He placed a hand on my back. “Well now, Gracie, do I get to meet your friend?”
I stiffened where his hand touched between my shoulder blades, and he frowned. Then I stepped away from his reach under the pretense of taking Keely by the upper arm as I introduced them. “Keely Dawson, this is my dad, Conrad Barrett.”
Keely beamed at my dad, and he smiled wide back at her. “A pleasure. I don’t go to the movies very often, but I saw you in that World War II movie—”
“The Edge of the Shadow.”
“Yeah. I just loved it. You are one talented young lady.”
Keely beamed at him. “Gray you never told me your dad was such a sweetheart with such wonderful taste.”
“My dad is a sweetheart with wonderful taste,” I intoned robotically. Our gazes met, and though he smiled, I didn’t. The moment grew awkward, so I cleared my throat. “Excuse me, I’m parched. I’m going to go grab a drink. Be right back!”
Or better yet, I wouldn’t be back at all, I told myself as I made my way to the bar and ordered a Dr. Pepper with extra ice. Smooth, Gray. Nice and classy. I was dressed like I should be carrying a flute of champagne, but I couldn’t stand champagne.
Maybe it was mean to leave Keely stranded with my dad, but he was a charming guy and could hold his own in a conversation, even with a beautiful starlet. His holding company had backed a few sure bet movies, so it might even be to her advantage to forge the connection.
Anyway, I just wanted him off my back. I was still beyond pissed at him and frustrated that I wouldn’t be able to confront him until later. I wandered over to the trays of canapes that were artfully arranged in several tiers. Glancing over the offerings, I opted not to take anything because my stomach was doing flip flops. Between Dad’s presence and Ryan’s, and the combined animosity between the two of them, it would be a miracle if I could get—and keep—anything down tonight.
“How are you, Miss Gray?” a voice at my shoulder spoke. I’d been staring at the tray, seemingly in a trance, lost in thought and savoring my solitude against the futile hope the isolation would last.
Nevertheless, the interruption wasn’t unpleasant. I looked up at Kirill. “Dobriy vyecher.”
He smiled. “Good evening to you, too. You are learning Russian?”
“One word at a time.” I smiled.
He nodded his approval. “Exactly how I learned it. It’s very useful language.”
“Especially if we get more cosmonauts on the team.”
His blond brows raised. “That might be interesting prospect. Not many want to move to US from Russia, though.”
I smiled, remembering an earlier discussion with Ryan. “We’ll just do all our recruiting during the winter and show posters of California beaches in January.”
He laughed and shrugged. “It might work.”
Just then, the lights very noticeably flickered off and then on again—an interruption so brief that, though noticed by all, it only served as a mere reminder of the wind outside. Things like that were ubiquitous when the Santa Anas were blowing—as ever present as the arid heat, persistent dust and smoky air from wildfires. We both looked at each other, startled as others in the room around us let out noises of surprise
“Can I refresh your drink?” he asked. “I need another.”
I held up my glass which was half full—yes, I was still being an optimist in spite of it all—and he smiled, drifting away to the bar. There he met Ryan, who was just coming away from it with his own fresh drink. The two of them exchanged a few words, and Ryan glanced up as if inspecting the lighting. Likely that brief power interruption had set him on alert. I noticed his forehead was a little shiny from perspiration and his shoulders were tense.
I didn’t want to notice these things and I most certainly didn’t want to feel this urgent pull of empathy and worry for him.
I wanted to be free of him. Just like it appeared that he was free of me.
I turned away, feigning intense interest in the appetizers. I’d have them all counted, catalogued and memorized by the time the night was through. But I’d never hope to be so lucky.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt a body suddenly standing near me, a shirt sleeve brushing against my bare arm. A familiar smell and a warm presence.
When he spoke, his voice sent parts deep inside me vibrating. And like a strike of lightning searing right through me in seconds, I realized how much I’d missed him.
He uttered his words quietly. “You’ve been staring at those for fifteen minutes now. Why not try one?” As if to demonstrate, he picked up an artful piece of sashimi and popped it into his mouth. My eyes zeroed in on his mouth as he chewed, suddenly awash in warm desire for him. I wanted to lean in closer and smell his smell, feel his body’s warmth near mine. Instead I took a step back.
“Not very hungry tonight.”
His eyes traveled from my face, over my neck and chest, and down the length of me, and that warmth inside me heated and steamed my skin. Then his gaze rested noticeably on my chest, on the prominent scar there, before returning to my eyes. “You look absolutely beautiful tonight.” It was little more than a whisper but said in such a way, with such conviction, that I could not in a million years discount his words as mere flattery.
My mouth opened and my lips parted as if I were preparing to say something, yet I didn’t know what to say. My throat tightened, and all I could manage was a thin, “Thank you.”
He was quite the image of gorgeous himself. Black jeans, tan blazer, dark blue dress shirt that matched his eyes unbuttoned at his throat. He wore no tie but had his golden NASA astronaut badge pinned to his lapel.
I wasn’t exactly angry with him, but I was definitely on my guard. I was in defensive mode, keeping a distance to protect myself. But I couldn’t be indifferent to him, either. Not when he was standing so near me. Not when he was looking at me like that.
Not when I still loved him.
At that moment, we were interrupted by Karen, who appeared on Ryan’s other side.
“I got my wine. I’ve got a babysitter with the kid tonight and I’m ready to rock and roll. Anything good over here? I’m starved,” she said to Ryan.
“There’s some cheesy puff pastry thingies you’ll love, since you’re such a cheese freak.” He flicked her a look and a grin that made that heat of jealousy flare to near irrational proportions. I took another step back, needing to get my bearings.
But Karen stepped forward. “Hey, Gray. Great to see you.”
I plastered on a smile. “Yes. How are you enjoying your stay? Enjoying California and our freaky weather?”
“I thought I was going to get blown away like a tumbleweed coming in. Hope this weather clears up before the three of us go down to Legoland next week.”
The three of us. I looked at Ryan. The three of them. A new little family. That was actually…so sweet.
And it might just be good for him to have someone else to take care of. Shit, what was wrong with me? Why was I starting to think this might be a good idea too?
I could barely breathe around the tightening of my throat. “Sounds great. I hope you all have a lot of fun. Especially AJ. I, ah, have to go check on something.”
Before either of them could say anything at all, I was gone, fleeing to the bathroom and trying to calm myself down enough to face dinner with all these different players at the same table. I resolved to sit near someone safe like maybe Mia Drake or Tolan. Or better yet, in between the two of them.
That would be perfect.
By the time I got out of the bathroom, our long table was ready and most people were seated. As there were no assigned seats, I headed toward the far end before Tolan hooked his fingers around m
y arm. “Sit by me?”
I nodded, only hesitating when I realized that the person on the other side of me would be Ryan.
Keely had mentioned wanting to talk to Mia about medical school for a part she was going to take later in the year. So that left Karen on the other side of Ryan. Now I was suffering from full blown nausea and almost turned around that second.
Only when I took my seat did I realize the depth of the screwed-up seating—Dad sat across from Ryan, intentionally, no doubt.
If ever there was a time to mentally conjure up new and interesting four-letter words, it was now.
Dad’s cold eyes landed on Ryan. “Well, Commander Tyler. How goes the training for the flight? You all ready to start your short and pointless voyage to the center of nowhere?”
Ryan pulled his napkin off his setting with a sudden snap, laying it across his lap. “Very excited for it, actually.”
I sent a warning glare at my offensive parent, and he glared right back at me. “Aaron told me he’s been trying to get a hold of you. Did you get his voicemail?”
Yeah, that little barb was meant to get at Ryan, too. I could tell by the way Dad’s cold eyes flicked toward him when he said it. I flushed like a cherry tomato, thankful that most of the table were engaged in their own little pockets of chit chat. “Are you doubling as Aaron’s personal assistant now, Dad? How sweet! And here I thought you were busy enough already.”
Dad’s mouth pursed, but he didn’t look particularly angry. More like he’d expected me to make some kind of snarly reply and I’d satisfied his expectations. Well, so much for self-control. I took a deep breath and let it go. I would be the picture of adult togetherness tonight, even if it killed me.
The lights flickered once more, this time blinking off for half a second longer, definitely a noticeable pause. Beside me, Ryan tensed, his napkin falling off his lap. I tilted my head to see that he was white-knuckling the side of his chair in a tight grip.
“You going to be okay?” I muttered the question so that only he could hear. Then I bent, swiped up the napkin and stuck it back on his lap before he could even move.
He slanted a gaze at me out of the corners of his eyes. “I’m fine,” he intoned through gritted teeth.
Ryan was hemmed in, by me on one side and Karen on the other, the wall at his back. If he had to make a quick escape, he’d be screwed. Obviously, he hadn’t thought this through when he’d come to sit at the table.
The salad course was uneventful, as was the soup. Dad regaled the table with folksy and humorous stories, as was his specialty. I stifled my irritation by refusing to look at him, and though Ryan did watch him, he never participated in the ongoing conversation. I would have given a large sum of money to know what Ryan was thinking or how he was even managing to control his anger toward my father.
I looked again at Ryan. He had his head tilted toward the diner on the other side of him, toward Karen. There was no time to dwell on my jealousy, though. The servers were bringing our entrées, and Tolan was trying to engage me in his conversation with Adam Drake about a possible Moon mission.
Since I was left-handed, Ryan and I bumped arms when he started to cut his steak and accidentally elbowed me while doing it. He turned to murmur an apology and our eyes met. I hadn’t planned for it to happen, but when it did, something sizzled and practically popped between us. Suppressed emotion on both of our parts?
It was more than awkwardness. It was connection. I caught my breath.
The lights flickered once more, slowly on and off again like a teasing child had flicked them to get the attention of the room. Apparently, it was the one last virtual gasp before staying off. In the darkness, people sighed or exclaimed surprise, and utensils clattered against dishes. The wind had kicked up, and high-pitched wails and bits of dust rattled against the windows.
But the occupant in the seat next to me panicked. Maybe I was the only one who heard his tight gasp, the clatter of his chair against the floor as he pushed away from the table, the sound of his silverware and plate hitting the floor with a crash. He was on his feet trying to push past Karen when I stood up and grabbed his arm.
“Ryan!” I said, and it may have been lost in the conversation around the table as people laughed and joked, and someone asked a server to bring candles while others fumbled for their smartphones.
Ryan ran smack into the wall behind him before doing an immediate about-face and turning toward me, every muscle in his body tense. I could hear the rush of his breath, feel the heat pouring off his body in waves. “I can’t get out. I have to get out. Where’s the opening for Quest?”
I frowned. That was the name of the airlock on the ISS.
He was experiencing a PTSD flashback, and the panic in his voice was evident. But how on earth was I going to convince a 200 pound, nearly six-foot-tall man to calm down when he was hemmed in on both sides?
I took hold of his biceps, squeezed them hard, and leaned in toward him. “Breathe, Ryan,” I said in a harsh whisper.
I hoped like hell I could pull him back from where he was stuck in the past with a minimal amount of damage. Then I realized the room had gone silent.
Chapter 23
Ryan
Darkness and tension and pain swirl around me in a dizzying blur. I can’t see a damn thing. It’s my worst nightmare. I’m trapped in the dark, and I can’t breathe. I drag in a labored breath through my nose. It sounds like people are talking all around me, but the suit is dropping pressure and I can’t find the fucking opening to the airlock. It’s like a block wall in front of me, and my legs are pinned down as if by gravity.
Is this a symptom of the dangerous loss of suit pressure? Am I hallucinating now?
I open my mouth to answer Houston’s question without even remembering what it was. “I can’t—I can’t see. I can’t breathe.”
The voices around me hush, or is that the static over the comms? Is the CAPCOM at a loss for words? I’m out of my mind with worry for Xander, but they’ve cut me off from him, ordering me to get back to the airlock, telling me they have his situation handled.
Why don’t I believe them?
My SAFER is functional and it was designed for this. The jetpack was specifically for rescuing astronauts who had somehow gone off tether. I could go get Xander, bring him back. I know I could do it before I pass out from the loss of suit pressure. Work the problem. It’s what we’re good at, right? What all those years and years of training were for?
Stars and darkness are all around, and I can’t see the ever-present gleam of earth below me. We must be on the dark side of the planet.
“Houston, I did not copy your last. Comm check.” My voice comes out strangled, on the thin edge before panic. My mind is racing. What’s going on with Xander? Why won’t they let me talk to him?
There are hands on my face. It feels like it anyway. Is this a hallucination? Am I dying?
Strawberries and mint. That’s what I smell. It reminds me…reminds me of her. Sudden confusion clouds my thoughts. Sounds and voices reach me as if through a long tunnel. Her forehead pressed to mine.
Did I know her—Gray—yet? Obviously I did, because I was thinking of her this very moment. Confusion swirled in my thoughts as nightmare and reality mixed together. My lungs clawed at the air. Which meant—which meant I wasn’t in my EMU, losing pressure and struggling to find the way into the station.
I was boots-down on the planet, which explained the reason my legs wouldn’t move like I was in microgravity. Which explained—so many things.
Still struggling for breath, I focused on a sweet voice. Her voice. “Close your eyes, squeeze them tight. Think of something else. Think of something that makes you happy, something beautiful, like the lake.”
Something that makes me happy. That was easy. Before she could even finish, I leaned in toward her, toward that intoxicating strawberry smell. My lips closed in on hers, and I did as she asked; I closed my eyes and concentrated on that feeling. Grounding myself, literally, f
ocusing on the sensation of gravity holding me down.
Flashes of dim light illuminated the world beyond my closed eyelids, but I kept my eyes closed and kissed her. That sweet taste. That sweet girl. I never wanted to come up for air. I didn’t need to. She was my air.
But as the light grew brighter and voices spoke up around us again, I felt her pull back. I wasn’t ready yet. My hand came up to hold her head to mine, to continue kissing her.
Behind her someone whooped and whistled, clapping their hands. “Yes!” shouted Keely. That’s right. I was at a restaurant. An awkward dinner party I’d rather not have attended. My heartbeat was still thready, still panicked, but I could feel myself coming down off that adrenaline rush. My eyes cracked open. The dim, bluish light around us came from several flashlight functions on smartphones. And the waiters had set candles on the table.
“Sir, we’ll get you a new plate,” someone said.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” another voice ground out. A harsh voice full of anger and hatred. I knew that voice. Conrad Barrett.
Slowly I relaxed my hand on the back of Gray’s head, and she pulled back from me. Her body trembled against mine. Our eyes locked, and for a long moment I ignored everything else around us but this. Her.
Only she had noticed what was happening to me. Only she had known.
But now, they all knew about my fear of the dark. I could feel their eyes on me.
Her dark brows crinkled together in a frown of concern. “It will be all right,” she murmured to me, and I had to believe that. I wanted to believe it.
Chapter 24
Gray
As we’d been standing very closely together, Ryan widened the gap between us by a lot. His hands slid down from where they had held my head to his and he stepped back—stepped away. He backed up against Karen’s chair, but he never tore his gaze away from mine. He swallowed visibly, but neither of us seemed willing to sever the connection—physical or otherwise— forged between us.
Several people cleared their throats loudly from the end of the table where my coworkers sat.
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