Space in His Heart

by Roxanne St Claire

  At the patio door, she accepted a glass of ice water from someone working a bar. Then the scent and feel that had become achingly familiar over the last twenty-four hours invaded her senses.

  “You look good enough to eat,” he whispered in her ear, almost skimming her hip with his hand. “A lady in black.”

  She turned and offered her most distant social smile. “Hello, Deke. How nice to see you.” She took a sip of water.

  One hand on the doorway, he leaned close to her ear. “Come home with me tonight. I want you again.”

  She swallowed the water carefully to keep from choking. She tried to communicate fury with her eyes but knew he’d never believe her. “Please, don’t.”

  “I’ll behave,” he assured her. “Just say yes. So I can count every minute until midnight.”

  “You will anyway,” she said with a satisfied smile. “It’s New Year’s Eve.”

  He was never more than ten feet from her and Jessica wondered how many people noticed. When the entire party packed into the family room to watch the sights and sounds of Times Square just before the calendar changed to 2000, she wasn’t surprised that he was right behind her, leaning against a bookshelf with his hands in his pockets.

  The deafening din of conversation and laughter mixed with horns and noisemakers blended into a countdown chorus at ten seconds to twelve. Somewhere around five seconds, she felt powerful hands slide onto her waist. At two, he tugged her into him and she could feel every masculine inch of him against her back. As the bells rang and the hollers of celebration reached a crescendo, he turned her around and gathered her up in an embrace.

  “Happy New Year, Jessie.” Without giving her a chance to respond, Deke pulled her into a deep and sensual kiss that lasted long after most others had completed theirs. His lips parted, seeking her tongue, promising more and more. For one blissful instant, she simply didn’t care who witnessed their mutual and public display. She didn’t care what price tag was attached to this moment.

  This kiss was worth whatever it cost.

  * * *

  Deke never dreamed he’d find the study of toes—pink-tipped and appealing as they might be—more interesting than the Bowl games. But they were. Along with every other inch of the enchantress who distracted him from his New Year’s ritual of football marathons. They awoke at his house on New Year’s Day as close as two bodies could be and managed to stay that way all afternoon. He’d normally hunker down with the games, but instead, he missed every play. For toes. And legs. And curves that didn’t quit. And that incredible laugh each time he touched something new.

  He tried to figure out what down it was—good God, what quarter it was—but then she’d picked up a copy of Jane’s Encyclopedia of Aviation and started making fun of his light reading. He had to torture her for that.

  When the phone rang, he cursed yet another interruption.

  But he sprang to attention at the sound of Colonel Price.

  “Happy New Year to you, sir,” Deke greeted him.

  Jessica immediately closed the massive tome and paled as she stared at him with wide eyes and pursed lips. The poor girl was stricken with guilt.

  “We have a serious situation in Houston, Deke. I need your help.”

  “Anything. What’s the problem?”

  “Colin MacAffie is having some health problems. Some mental health problems that will preclude him from taking Endeavour up.”

  Deke clenched his jaw and felt his teeth press on each other. He had known Mac was on shaky ground when he was in Houston last week. He’d been flying erratically and acting damn near manic-depressive. He waited for the inevitable.

  “You’re going to command Endeavour, Deke. You’re closest to the crew in training and you know that orbiter better than anyone.”

  Colonel Price may have thought this was a surprise, but Deke knew it had been coming. He just knew it.

  “Of course. I can be in Houston tomorrow morning.”

  Jessica’s frown deepened. That wasn’t the look of a woman who didn’t want to be abandoned. No, her expression was pure worry. Damn it, he hated that look.

  The Colonel thanked him and then cleared his throat for another question. “I have to trust Bowker to find the cause of the hydrogen leak before you get that bird to fly. Can I?”

  Deke closed his eyes. “I have to trust him, too.”

  “You can jump into the schedule in Houston. Every minute you’re not in training, I want you to check on those inspections.”

  “You can count on it, sir.”

  “And, Deke,” the Colonel added, “you can stop all the PR stuff now. Petrenko’s all that matters now.”

  Deke swallowed his ‘I told you so’ and quietly agreed. When he hung up, he nearly smiled at the irony. Be careful what you wish for.

  “What’s the matter?” Jessica asked, still holding the book on her lap.

  “I’m taking Endeavour up in February.” He watched for the reaction. “Mac’s been taken off the schedule. I’m next in line.”

  She just stared at him, her jaw dropping a little, her eyes widening a lot. “Endeavour? In February?”

  He nodded and picked up the remote to silence the TV. She slowly leaned forward, understanding obviously starting to sink in.

  “Why you? Don’t you need to be here for the inspections? What about—”

  His sarcastic smirk stopped her cold. “What about PR?”

  “No, Deke.” She threw the book on the table. “I’m not going to ask that.”

  “What about us?”

  “Stop it!” She blazed at him. “You know what I’m going to ask. What about that hydrogen leak? Is it safe? Shouldn’t you say no?”

  He knew this would happen. The worry, the fear, the pleading not to do what he had to do. He should have listened to his gut. Instead he listened to his irrepressible male urges. And worse, his heart.

  “I’ve always known this was a possibility,” he said.

  “You knew? You’ve never said anything about it.”

  He shot her a warning look. “I don’t have the luxury of saying no, even if I wanted to. And by the way, I don’t want to. I’m an astronaut and I’m in the military. It’s a life of accepting assignments, whatever they are. That could mean spinning around in fighters on a carrier for fun or it could mean stupid PR interviews on TV or it could mean bumping my mission schedule up by three months. Doesn’t matter. I do it.”

  He turned from her, determined to hide his emotions as he continued to tell her what had to be said. “That’s why… that’s why I don’t…” He sighed, searching for the words. He could only be honest. It was the only way he knew. “That’s why my life is what it is and why I live it alone. That way, if anything happens to me, I’m not leaving behind a miserable heartache.”

  She turned on her heel and walked into the bedroom. In a minute, he heard a zipper. Not the jeans kind. The satchel kind. Of course she’d go home now, guilty from breaking her company’s code and pained by stepping all over his. He ran his hand through his hair and stared at the silent TV screen, a blur of beefy jocks playing ball in the snow. What a mess.

  * * *

  Jessica’s fingers shook as she dropped her toothbrush into the overnight case. It was time to go home. Real home. Boston.

  The sound of his sigh in the doorway sent a chill down her spine.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Packing.” She zipped the bag like an exclamation point.

  “I thought you might stay the night.”

  She shook her head and whipped a hair out of her face that clung to an eyelash. “You have a lot to do, a lot to think about. It’s time for me to leave.”

  “I understand if you want to do that. It’s not necessary.”

  She straightened and stared at her bag. “I don’t want to be anyone’s miserable heartache.”

  She looked up to see his reaction. If it hurt him, he didn’t show it. His eyes softened and his arms fell to his sides as though he wanted to reach for
her but didn’t know if it would be welcome.

  “I’m just trying to tell you that you can’t ask me not to do things that I have to do. You don’t have to leave, Jess.”

  “Yes, I do. I can’t show up to work tomorrow in the same clothes I wore to Colonel Price’s party. Although, half of those people probably expect it after that kiss.” She yanked at a snap on the front of the bag.

  “I don’t care who knows we’ve—we’ve been together.” She heard the hurt turning to anger in his voice. “I’m not ashamed of it.”

  She swallowed hard. Not ashamed? He couldn’t even say the words ‘made love.’ “Deke, I have a job to do—a position to protect.” A future somewhere else.

  “So, you’re just walking out? I’ve never known you to quit. I thought you were driven to succeed at everything.”

  “I am, Stockard. I’m not quitting. My job here is done. I’ve succeeded. You’re going up on Endeavour and the whole world will be watching with bated breath.” She raised an eyebrow and gave him a wry smile. “Those posters ought to sell like hotcakes now.”

  She picked up the shoulder strap of her bag and avoided his gaze, trying to navigate a route around him, but he blocked her.

  “Please, Jessie,” he said, gripping her arms. “Don’t ruin this weekend. Just let me get to Houston and figure this whole thing out.”

  “I want to go home.” She knew he couldn’t argue with the finality in her voice.

  He stepped aside so she could walk past him to the living room. “I’ll drive you.”

  She shook her head and put her hand on the latch of the sliding doors. “No. I can walk the path.”

  He closed the space between them again, wrapping his arms around her. She hoped to God he couldn’t feel her quivering. He didn’t need to know how he got to her. To him, it was a weekend not to be ruined, a thing to work out when he got to Houston.

  To her, it was love. She hadn’t said it. But she’d thought it every time she looked at him. Every time he touched her. Every time she spiraled out of control with him inside her.

  “I’ll call you,” he whispered.

  Man’s worst words. They should never have been invented.

  “You do that, Deke.”

  She opened the door and stepped onto the gravel, determined not to turn to see if he stood watching her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Kennedy Space Center buzzed with the news. Jessica knew as soon as she arrived that the atmosphere had changed with the new command of Endeavour. She decided to go straight to Colonel Price and announce her intention to return to Boston but knew she’d have to get Stuart and Tony Palermo to agree. She didn’t expect an argument.

  She dialed the R&C offices in New York with a sense of purpose and dread.

  “It’s great news,” Tony announced when he finally took her call. “It’s fair to say your job just got easier, don’t you think?”

  “Easier? I don’t think so. He’s not going to do anything else. He’s gone to Houston and will be virtually invisible for the next six weeks. No media. None. He won’t do it.”

  She heard papers rustle as Tony sifted through his mail. “You don’t need him, Jess. You just keep the machine going. Use the same pictures, recycle some interviews. You’ll have him built up to hero status in no time.”

  “The Washington account team can build him up, Tony. I’m not needed here anymore and I’d like to get back to Boston.” The farther away from the man who had to live alone, the better.

  “No way, Jessica. You’ve got to stay. This is your baby. You need to be there straight through the launch.”

  He couldn’t make her stay. She opened her mouth to argue, but Stuart stuck his head in her office. “Jessica, Colonel Price would like to see you immediately.”

  Tony’s computer keyboard clicked in the background and she felt herself drop another notch on his priority list. She nodded to Stuart as a band of frustration squeezed her lungs.

  “I really would rather not be held prisoner here, Tony.” Too bad if her voice sounded strained. “My job is in Boston. And my life is there. Not here. I would like to come home.”

  She knew by the silence he’d stopped reading his email. Jessica Marlowe never argued with the boss.

  “NASA will surely cut our budget to nothing if they feel they’ve lost on the investment they’ve made in this project. You won’t have a job if you walk out on this assignment.”

  She considered slamming the phone in his ear, but spoke between clenched teeth. “Colonel Price wants to see me. I’ll call you later.”

  She nearly mowed Stuart down as she stomped out of her office and waved him aside on her way to Headquarters. By the time she reached Colonel Price’s office, she’d almost pulled herself together. She refused to let him see her as an emotional wreck.

  “I hope you had a nice time on Saturday night,” he said as she perched on the edge of a chair across from his desk.

  Oh God. He knew.

  “I did, Colonel. I haven’t had a chance to call you and your wife and thank you for including me.” She searched his face for a clue. Did he know what she’d been busy doing?

  He picked up a gold fountain pen and slid it into a brass United States Air Force penholder at the edge of his desk.

  “I take it you’ve heard about the change in Endeavour’s command.” His dark eyes narrowed. Was he trying to gauge her response? Did he expect her to burst into tears at the possible loss of her lover? Just how many men in authority would jerk her around in one day?

  “I have, and I realize that it will eliminate my role at the Cape.”

  He lifted his black eyebrows and something that looked distinctly like disappointment flashed in his eyes. “On the contrary, Jessica. We need you more than ever. I expect you to stay. For the launch.” He glanced down at his desk and back to her. “And beyond, if appropriate.”

  Her head exploded with mixed reactions, control of her life disappearing faster than she could handle.

  “What exactly would you have me do here, Colonel? Certainly Commander Stockard is foregoing a publicity campaign at this point.”

  He leaned forward on crossed arms. “He is, but we need good PR more than anything except flawless inspections on Endeavour and a safe ride up to the space station and back. Every newspaper and TV station in the country will cover this mission. Looking for a mistake, sniffing out a story.” He shook his head as though he dreaded the onslaught. “Cosmonaut Petrenko will be front-page news, right alongside Commander Stockard. NASA has to come out on top on this launch. I trust you more than anyone else from Ross & Clayton right now. We need you here.”

  She bit her lip and held his gaze. If she stayed and the press coverage was negative, Carla would have her job in a New York minute. If she left, she’d be fired or at least left to rot in the basement of Emerging Technologies.

  “Anyway,” the Colonel said with a half-smile and a knowing gleam in his eyes, “I had the distinct impression you were beginning to fall in love with the space program.”

  Her stomach flipped. Was that a warning? Blackmail to get her to stay? Or did the old man have a soft heart for romance?

  “I’ll do whatever needs to be done, Colonel.”

  The good girl had returned.

  * * *

  It was nearly eleven o’clock when Deke slipped the key into Suite 510 and threw his bags on the sofa of the tiny apartment. Ironically, the furnished one-bedroom with a kitchenette and narrow balcony felt a little like home. He’d stayed there often enough to know all the staff that serviced the complex just outside of Johnson Space Center and had gotten used to getting the same suite every time he was in Houston.

  Opening the undersized refrigerator door, he silently blessed his favorite chef, Mona, for the neatly wrapped Italian sub. She must have heard he was coming in tonight. He grabbed one of the ice-cold liters of bottled water and made a mental note to stop by on his way out tomorrow and give the sweet old girl a kiss.

  He flipped on the TV to a
cable sports wrap-up to get his mind off the day’s events. Was it only yesterday he was lounging at home counting toes instead of touchdowns?

  He tried to focus on the scores and not dwell on the enormous task ahead of him, but it was impossible.

  His body and brain could easily handle the eighteen-hour days. It was his spirit that needed preparation… and the rest of the crew’s as well. Even with Mac’s problems, they had revered the former commander, and slipping into the other man’s slot wasn’t going to be easy for Deke.

  The necessity of getting to the space station on time and the frustration of being yanked from the satisfying affair he’d begun with Jessica made it even more aggravating. Even with the demands on him, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  He wanted to erase their last conversation. He wanted another chance. Just to talk to her. To hear her voice. He looked at the phone next to him on the end table, then to the clock. With the time difference, it was too late to call.

  He kicked off his shoes, slumped back on the cushions and stared at the TV. But all he could see was the skeptical stares from his fellow crew members or the guilty fear on Skip Bowker’s face during their final conversation at the OPF on Sunday night. And, of course, the look in Jessie’s eyes when she said goodbye.

  Aw, hell.

  She answered on the first ring. A jolt of pleasure kicked him at the sound of her voice.

  “I thought you might be asleep,” he said huskily.

  He heard her suck in a surprised breath. “Stockard. Why aren’t you floating around in a pool somewhere practicing your weightless skills?”

  “You know I like it when you’re a smart-ass. It doesn’t deter me at all.”

  “So few things do.”

  He smiled at the truth of it. The question that hung in the back of his mind tumbled out. “So, are you packed? Flight booked back to Beantown?”

  He heard her sigh and imagined her slipping deeper under her comforter, her hair falling around her shoulders, her face scrubbed clean. “Not exactly.”