Space Wrangler (11 page)

Alexia laughed. “So much for talking about
you
. Back to me.” Her tone warmed. “I don't want you to worry, Rick. I know what I'm doing. Plus, I've done this before, so it's no big deal.”

He arched an eyebrow, then turned to thank the bartender who had delivered his usual drink—whisky straight up.

“What about you, Miss Montoya?” the man asked. “Another Cointreau and cranberry?”

“I'm still working on this one, thanks.”

When they were alone again, Rick leaned closer, acutely aware of her citrus scent. “If you need a drink before you see him, he's not the right guy. You know that, don't you?”

She rolled her eyes, and he thought she was going to make a joke. Then her mood sobered. “I'm running out of time. Even
I
know that. Trent can't survive out there forever without help. He's brilliant and resourceful, but if he's still alive—”

“He's still alive,” Rick blurted out instinctively.

“I know you're just humoring me, but the truth is, I
can feel
him, alive and waiting, at least for the moment.” She gave him a tearful smile. “That counts for something, right? If it doesn't, it means I've wasted five years of my life.”

“You've raised awareness—not just for Trent but for all the sinkhole victims. I wouldn't call that a waste.”

“I was referring to my personal life.”

He couldn't help but laugh. “Dozens of geek lovers? Don't remind me.”

“Three geek lovers and a security guard. He tried to get me access to Prototype Number Three—”

“Seriously? At NASA?”

She nodded. “Old man Seaton blocked it, the creep. And then he got the poor guy fired. I felt so bad, I hired him at
my
company. But we never actually hit the sheets.”

“You said three geeks and a guard. Who was the third geek?”

She took a long sip of her cranberry drink, then smiled. “He's the smartest man on Earth, at least according to the
New York Times
. A reclusive genius. Apparently he'd be the heir apparent to Trent if he weren't so antisocial.”

“And you slept with him too?” Rick cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

She laughed. “I
tried
to sleep with him but he's riddled with anxiety. So we just ended up on the couch, a judicious distance apart, watching geek porn.”

“You mean, like robot videos?”

“I wish.” Her amber eyes twinkled. “He prefers videos of naked blonde girls with huge breasts having pillow fights and giggling. It was pitiful, especially because I was sitting right there with
my
girls front and center.” She hefted her own breasts in illustration. “But he was terrified of us.”

“Man,” he said, laughing out loud despite the crowded surroundings. “You've met some freaks.”

“Tell me about it.” She sighed. “He tried discussing Trent with me, but it was over my head. And the bottom line was the same old song: your brother's gone, so get on with your life.” Visibly frustrated, she added, “Can you believe he actually proposed marriage to me? Complete with celibacy and blonde porn?”

It sounded effing crazy to Rick, but he decided just to wince in sympathy. “Didn't you ever have a normal boyfriend?”

“I thought so once. A sweet guy in college. Then one day, a friend pointed out how much he looked like TJ and—wow. The blinders fell off with a thud.”

“Geezus, it really
is
the worst sex life ever.”

“Didn't I tell you?” She laughed lightly. “Let's hope my luck changes tonight.”

“You're definitely going through with it?”

She seemed surprised. “Are you asking me not to?”

“Huh?”

Her cheeks reddened. “I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I'm just nervous, I guess. Wish me luck?”

“Absolutely.”

She surprised him by kissing his jaw. “Have fun with your bio-girl. And have a safe trip, okay? I'll probably be Earth-side by the time you get back.”

“And if you're not, it'll mean you and TJ hooked up permanently?”

When she nodded, he brushed a strand of copper hair from her cheek. “I'll walk you to his building—”

“No need. I have my pulse alarm, remember? And it might make him jealous. So just think good thoughts, okay?”

It was a crossroads and he knew it. He didn't want a relationship. That was the whole point of moving here. And even if he wanted a girlfriend, he couldn't have
this
girl, because her focus was elsewhere. She wanted something only TJ Seaton could give her.

Which was for the best, wasn't it?

Just when he thought things were finalized, she licked her lips and gave him an uncertain smile. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

He tried not to scowl, even though he was pretty sure he knew what she would now ask. It was what
everyone
asked him sooner or later, wasn't it? She wanted to know if his self-imposed exile was permanent. Did he actually intend on spending the rest of his life out here? Away from Earth, his ranch, his past? No children? No future at all in the traditional sense?

Or was he just biding his time? Healing slowly, but moving toward a goal. A goal that encompassed friends, family, love, progeny…

“Go ahead,” he told her, his tone cooler than intended.

She grimaced but pushed on. “I'm confused about your plan. For this contract in Sector Fourteen.”

“Huh?”

“The
Drifter
is big,” she explained, “but it can only hold so much. And those thugs today were huge. So how can you make any money? You could fit eight—maybe ten—in the hull, right? In exchange for months of travel time in space?” After pausing for a breath, she said sweetly, “Educate me. I just don't see it.”

“That's your question?” Rick chuckled as his inflated ego decompressed. She wasn't asking about his romantic plans, just his economic ones. “You want to know how I make my money?”

“No, no. I meant—”

“It's fine.” He touched her bare shoulder, intending just to reassure her, but the jolt flashed him back to the prior evening's performance. He could see the whipped cream-covered breasts, feel the heat from her body, see her savoring the stretchy cheese of the enchiladas.

Pulling himself together, he explained, “I didn't come out here to make money, Alexia. I've got enough to live on for a long while. But I want to explore. Not just around Destry but throughout its solar system. That kind of traveling burns fuel like crazy, and I underestimated that cost. Luckily, if I can bring in a dozen thugs a year for recycling, and a half-dozen nymphs or so, I can afford to go anywhere I choose.”

“Nymphs? Oh, you mean: infodroids?”

“Exactly. These contracts cover my fuel. Plus, as a Sea-Mont contractor I can buy fuel cells at cost, so it's a double win.” He flashed an understanding smile. “You're right, though. If I were just in it for the money, Sector Fourteen wouldn't make sense, not even with TJ doubling the bounty. Lucky for me, I'll just grab my quota, then spend the bulk of my time exploring.”

Her golden eyes sparkled. “Will you see Laredo?”

“That's the plan,” he said, his pulse quickening at the thought of getting up close and personal with the only other planet in Destry's solar system.

“They say it's uninhabited. But maybe you'll prove them wrong.”

“I doubt it. Anyway, it's a gas giant so even if there is life there, it's not the kind we usually envision.”

“Maybe one of its moons can support life,” she countered stubbornly.

Too late he realized where she was going. She actually believed her brother might be out there. It wrenched at him, gut-wise, and he instinctively brushed his fingertips along her bare shoulder. “If Trent were on Laredo, he would have figured out how to signal us by now, right? I actually like your time-suspension theory better anyway.”

She licked her lips. “Tell me why.”

“It's cleaner. And it would make me three years older than him, even though he was born five years earlier than me.”

Her face beamed. “You're right! And he wouldn't be eight years older than me anymore either. We'd be almost as close as twins. I never thought of that. Thanks, Rick.”

“My pleasure.”

Her gaze softened. “How long will you be gone?”

“Six months, give or take. So yeah, you'll be gone. Unless you marry TJ and decide to live here.”

“This stupid place? With its fake air and monotonous weather?” She flashed a mischievous smile. “It's different for you on the
Drifter
. Almost like home, right? But this platform—ugh.”

“I agree. I get stir crazy here too. You should try exploring,” he said, only half-teasing.

“In space?” She laughed. “I'm not that kind of Montoya. If things were different, I might spend some time exploring Destry from an archaeological perspective. That was the original plan for me before Trent disappeared.”

Rick liked the sound of her staying. Probably way too much. “They have a research team down there, so you could still try it,” he said carefully.

“Wearing a gas mask and hazmat suit? Ugh. The only thing worse than an artificial atmosphere is a poisonous one.”

“True.”

“What about you?” She quirked a curious eyebrow. “When you've had enough exploring, will you go back to Earth? To your ranch? Get married and have kids?”

A growl of frustration erupted in his throat. There it was, the question he had expected from the start. Somehow she had tricked him into letting his guard down.

The old one-two punch.

“I'll visit the ranch every once in a while, but my home is here now. Aboard the
Drifter
. It's all I need. Or want.”

He half-expected her to take offense, but she just nodded. “You sound like me.”

“Huh?”

“People always ask me why I'm not dating. Having babies. Getting on with my life. And I tell them this
is
my life. Searching for Trent. Rescuing the sinkhole victims. I'm doing exactly what I want to do, the way I want to do it.”

He exhaled in annoyed amusement. “When you put it that way, we both sound crazy.”

“Maybe that's why we get along so well. That and the rampant lust.”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “You've got the most amazing shoulders.”

“My shoulders?” Her smile softened. “That's not usually what guys notice.”

“Sure they do. Among other things,” he added teasingly.

“We've definitely got chemistry. Too bad
I
need physics and
you
need astronomy.”

“Yeah.”

She heaved an exaggerated sigh. “I'd better get going. He's expecting me.”

The reminder hit him between the eyes. She was beautiful and sexy and fun, and she was TJ Seaton's for the asking. It seemed insane, but who was he to interfere? She didn't need him to be macho, or decisive, or even protective.

She just needed him to back off. So he told her simply, “Good luck with that. I hope you get everything you need.”

“Thanks, Rick.” She flashed one final, uncertain smile, slid off her stool, and walked out of the bar. She must have known he was watching her—or maybe she just naturally moved like that, slow and sensual, confident yet vulnerable, and absolutely irresistible.

“Hi Rick,” said a voice from behind him, and he turned to see a pretty blonde who had been one of his favorite dates lately.

“Hey, Lana. How've you been?”

Her blue eyes twinkled. “So? You and Alexia Montoya?”

“Nope. We're just friends. She's dating TJ, actually.”

Lana seemed to savor this tidbit of scandal, then slid her hands behind his neck and murmured, “In that case, Gwen and I want to give you a two-for-one special. Since things are slow, and we don't see much of you these days.”

He cleared his throat, intrigued. “Isn't that against the rules?”

“We bend them occasionally. Sometimes for TJ himself, so he can't really complain, can he?” She perched herself on his lap and ran one fingertip over his lips. “You'll have fun, I promise.”

He knew she was right, but for some reason, it was also all wrong. Her long, straight hair seemed like straw, her pale shoulders skinny, almost sickly, her eyes too small, too blue. He knew what he wanted, and this wasn't it.

Still, he surprised himself almost as much as Lana when he moved her back to her feet then stood up. “It's tempting. But I want to get an early start tomorrow. And I've still got some last-minute details to deal with. So how about a rain check?”

She pretended to pout, but only for a second or two. Then she told him softly, “She's bad news. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know that. Why do you think I'm heading out early tomorrow?” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Take care of yourself. See you in six months, okay?”

“You said this video would put you in a better mood, but it's worse than ever, Captain,” Sensie complained when Rick grouched at her for the tenth time after his return to the
Drifter
.

He could barely tear his gaze away from the image of Alexia in her trademark black dress and heels, hanging tinsel on a Christmas tree in front of a black-tie audience of admiring donors to the sinkhole cause. But he knew his computer was right. This definitely wasn't helping. “Turn it off, then. Let's just finish laying in tomorrow's course.”

“You should go back to the Trading Post. Spending the night there always makes you happy.”

He chuckled. “They were all blondes and redheads tonight, and I kinda needed someone darker.”

“Surely one of them has a wig.”

“A wig?” He laughed again. “I didn't think of that. You're a genius.”