Falling Like Stars

by Eve Kasey

  His practice run that morning had been timely. The next payload flight, testing the weight and gravity of the newly installed passenger seats, was less than two months out, earlier if Chen could get certified quickly by the Federal Aviation Administration.

  He chugged water to combat the adrenaline from the sim and lost himself in the binder of George’s checklists for Stratos. The program’s original test pilot, the man Chen had replaced, had been an old-school test pilot. His checklists were the most detailed he’d ever seen. But old school meant Chen had some new ideas, especially when it came to safety. He knew of some systems out of China he wanted to pitch to Thomas.

  He heard Elle before he saw her. At all hours of the day she seemed to pop in with random questions for him or one of the engineers. How long was the flight? Could they serve drinks? What if their guests had to use the bathroom? His stomach dropped whenever he saw her approaching with eager steps. Chen tried not to stare too obviously as Elle grilled one of the junior engineers. Attractive and friendly and curious, she gathered crowds of admirers everywhere she went. He’d seen more than one of the old guys blush when talking with her. Chen wasn’t the only one who enjoyed her company.

  Company that’s about to be mine, he observed, smirking. She’d finished up her conversation with Suresh and was heading his way, notebook in hand.

  “What are we curious about today?” he asked as she approached. His gaze skimmed her slim form, clad in a simple navy dress and knee-high gray suede boots. Sure, the boots were sexy, but they covered up most of her legs. A shame, really. Her legs were long and lean and hard not to picture wrapped around him.

  “The spacecraft’s cabin. Can you get me in?”

  Chen grinned. “Elle, I’d love nothing more. But are you sure you’re properly prepared? I only see one pen there. What if you get the urge to color code?”

  “I’ll deal.”

  “You know you want to color code. I can wait right here while you get more markers.” God, he loved teasing her. He loved classifying the various shades of red in her cheeks. He’d lost count of eyerolls and angry groans. They were having fun together, though he knew she’d deny that.

  “Chen! Just take me already. Please.”

  He snorted. “You’re really going to set me up like that?”

  Her brows flicked together. And cue scowl. He laughed as her glare materialized right on schedule.

  “You would go there,” she flung at him.

  “I definitely would. Are you saying you wouldn’t?”

  He was partly teasing, but he wanted to see her reaction. The woman couldn’t hide an emotion to save her life.

  Her mouth popped open and her eyes dropped straight to his lips. Elle had thought about kissing him, he realized gleefully. He let his gaze wander to her lips in retribution, and wondered what she tasted like, where she liked to be touched, if he could ever kiss her and be able to stop there.

  “I would not,” she answered, way too late to be believable.

  Chen chuckled. “Sure. Let’s get you inside.”

  He ditched his folding chair and they made their way to the spacecraft, Elle still huffing and Chen still smiling. He nodded at the technicians working on the exterior as they climbed the stairs into the belly of the plane.

  Movement once inside was minimized. The narrow aisle shoved Elle’s body against his. She inhaled sharply—at their closeness or the craft itself, he didn’t know. He did know that sweet, genuine noise, her breasts against his chest, and the long waves that brushed against his arm had him closing his eyes against the flood of want. The residual glee from their banter was replaced by darker, rawer feelings.

  “Chen?”

  When he opened his eyes, he could see each individual lash and the green glints in her irises. He could almost taste the mint on her breath. He didn’t trust himself to answer. He barely trusted himself to breathe.

  “You’re on my boot.”

  He brushed past her toward the cockpit, where he could at least function on autopilot. At a safe distance from the woman who had temporarily disabled his brain, he watched her turn in a tight circle and take in the streamlined leather seats and windowed ceiling. She scribbled down some notes then explored the cabin in a tactile manner, running her hand along the geometrically patterned walls. Next, she dropped into one of the seats and kicked her legs out in a swimming motion. She fiddled with the seat’s buttons until she was lying back to look out the ceiling’s windows, arching in delicious ways as she got comfortable. He ignored the twitch in his pants.

  “This is amazing.” Awe colored her voice. “I was expecting it to look like first class on a jetliner, but Stratos is way beyond. And you just get to lay back and look at the fucking earth up close?”

  He’d never heard her curse before. He moved closer, pulled like a tractor beam. He settled into the seat next to her, reclining to her level. They both stared out the ceiling’s windows, which currently offered a view of the hangar’s corrugated aluminum ceiling three stories above. That’s not what Chen saw, or, he suspected, what Elle saw. They could see the dream.

  “Earth is stunning and the stars from there are so beautiful,” he told her. “You can’t imagine how many there are. How black space is. Or how small and whole you feel at the same time looking at Earth from the outside.” Chen shook his head, stomach clenching with the memory. Breaking the barrier of Earth had been a rush that shook him to his core. “Being up there feels like the drop of a roller coaster that never stops.”

  She angled her face toward him. Chen did the same, their gazes crashing. Every atom in his blood screamed at him to kiss her when he saw his want reflected in her eyes.

  “The guests are going to love you. You’re perfect for this job,” she said softly. She arched her neck subtly, granting him access and permission in one move.

  And, fuck, did Chen want to take what she offered. He wanted Elle in ways he knew he could never have her. Not with his family obligations sitting specter-like in the shadows. One taste would break him.

  But he had to at least touch her. With his fingertips resting lightly on her throat, Chen let his thumb brush across the wide lips that plagued his daydreams. Over the curve of her chin and down to the hollow of her throat, he let his skin connect with hers. “I’m perfect in general,” he teased, dragging his hand away and draining the moment of its magic. “Have you seen my hair today?”

  Say it, he silently begged. Tell me I’m the worst. Break this spell you’ve got me under.

  She shook her head with a sigh and again tipped her head skyward, the disappointment on her face worse than any comeback.

  12

  Elle climbed down the spacecraft’s stairs and tried to ignore the barb that had lodged under her ribs from Chen denying her. What the hell had she been thinking, anyway? Her annoying upstairs neighbor, really? Elle wanted the fairy tale. The perfect job, a cottage where she could smell the sea and see the stars, the dream guy who loved and fucked with abandon. She wanted a man who opened new worlds for her, who would give as much love as he got.

  That was not Chen. He couldn’t go two minutes without a joke or a jab. He kept the book of his life closed.

  Still, just for a second, she had wanted him to do something with those luscious lips besides tease her. Caught up in the moment, she had offered and he had denied. That stung more than it should have.

  But she didn’t have time to think about Chen right then. Rosie would be arriving any minute to help convince Tate to start moving on this hotel Elle couldn’t stop daydreaming about. She already had the place decorated and welcome baskets planned.

  She recorded a few more impressions of Stratos in her notebook. The cabin was sleeker than she’d pictured, and much snugger. She was scribbling away when she heard Chen clatter down the metal stairs to join her. She didn’t look up.

  “Look, Elle—”

  “Te voilà! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  Elle glanced up to see Quinn, the public relation
s wunderkind, relieved for the interruption. Best case scenario? She’d hear Chen’s reasons for touching her lips over kissing them. Worst case? He’d taunt her for craving him at all. Pressed against the toned astronaut with stars in his eyes, she’d felt pulled like gravity. Her skin still tingled where he’d touched her. Nearly a year had passed since she’d felt Tucker Grant’s mouth and hands on her body. Obviously, all that alone time had made her temporarily insane. From now on, Elle would be keeping her lips, and her desires, to herself.

  Chen took a step back as Elle gave Quinn a quick hug. “Where’ve you been? I haven’t seen you since Monday.”

  The stylish, French-accented executive was the person closest to her own age and interests at OrbitAll. She liked Quinn. She thought they could be friends if they could ever get any time together.

  “The rye sourcing problem we had in Russia required my attention, and we released a new handbag at our flagship Chaleur store in Paris. We had a big event for that earlier in the week.”

  “Do I need to check out this new handbag?”

  “Only if you want to drop five thousand on it.”

  Chen made a choking noise. “What is wrong with you Geiers? Wallpaper in a spacecraft and five thousand-dollar purses?”

  “People are glad to pay it,” Quinn defended. “Customers were lined up around the block and the preorder numbers set records.”

  He scoffed again.

  Quinn rolled her eyes. “Anyway, Chen, I need a favor.”

  Elle glanced his way to see his reaction.

  His heavy eyebrows pulled together. “Why does this sound ominous?”

  “It’s not, unless you’re afraid of schoolchildren,” Quinn answered. “I just need you to do a PR tour at some local schools, talk to the students about space, have them draw some pictures we can take up during the next payload test flight. Photo ops for social media mostly, but we’re also trying to be available as a community resource.”

  “I’d love to talk to kids about space.” He sounded uncharacteristically genuine.

  Elle knew some middle schoolers who would love to be part of that. “Do you have the schools picked out yet? Is San Diego too far?”

  “Non.” Quinn turned to her. “Sounds like you have a plan in mind?”

  Elle nodded eagerly. “My brothers are in middle school and would geek out over an opportunity to talk to a real astronaut. I know the principal at my old elementary school, too.”

  “Let’s do it,” Chen agreed. “I want to meet your brothers. I bet they have all your dirt.”

  Elle glared at him. “That’s not the saying and there’s nothing for them to know. I’m squeaky clean.”

  “Send me the names of the schools and your contacts, and I’ll set up the tours.”

  Tate approached, a wide smile on his achingly handsome face. “Chen! I just heard that you handled abnormal pitch-up beautifully during your sim this morning. I’m sorry I missed it. I had a meeting I couldn’t get out of.”

  Chen spread his arms in the cockiest gesture Elle had ever seen, as if to say, Did you have any doubts?

  “Oh, my God,” she muttered. He was insufferable today. And she’d only made it worse by letting him know she was attracted. Still, curiosity outweighed annoyance. “What’s pitch-up?”

  “It’s when the center of gravity on the plane suddenly shifts, usually due to engaging Mach speed. Counteractions didn’t work and the plane spiraled.” Chen shrugged. “I handled it.”

  “He really did, and Control was instructed not to go easy on him. Excuse me,” Tate said, moving to answer a call on his cell phone. Quinn took the opportunity to slip away, head buried in her tablet. Another metaphorical fire to put out, no doubt.

  “Pretty proud of yourself, huh?” Elle couldn’t help but poke at his inflated ego.

  That smirk she loved to hate graced his mouth. “Well, I did save my co-pilot and myself from a fiery death.”

  “It’s a computer game,” she pointed out, but her stomach flipped at the idea of fiery wreckage.

  “We’re in the bay. Please bring her here.” Tate turned back to the two of them, smiling at Elle. “Your friend Rosie is here.”

  Elle squealed as Rosie’s shining copper hair came into view. She walked with Luz, Tate’s assistant, eyes wide and roaming as she made her way toward the three of them. She looked gorgeous in a teal dress and loose black blazer; a business-y handbag clutched in both hands in front of her.

  Beside her, Tate straightened his posture. Even at his tallest, Rosie had a good inch on him. He brushed a hand over his shirt and cleared his throat, twitchy behaviors very unlike him. When she got closer, Elle launched herself at Rosie, a completely unprofessional move that she couldn’t hold back. She heard Tate thank Luz as Rosie giggled and hugged her back. Elle cupped her elbow and pulled her into their little group.

  “Rosie Flynn, world’s greatest architect and my best friend, meet Tate Geier, world’s greatest boss and Chief Operating Officer here at OrbitAll.”

  Tate chuckled as he shook Rosie’s hand. “I’m not sure I can claim that first title.”

  “Neither can I,” Rosie replied, bestowing him with her sweet smile. “Elle gets really excited, if you haven’t noticed.”

  Tate’s eyes never left Rosie’s, not even for a millisecond. He didn’t stop shaking her hand, either. Tate was normally unflappable. This was truly out of character. Forgetting that she was irritated with him, Elle shot an amused look at Chen and saw that he had noticed Tate’s strange behavior, too. His answering grin and wink were wicked. Elle fought a snicker.

  Finally, Rosie and Tate let each other go. Rosie moved her gaze to Chen and gasped, her smile replaced with disbelief. “Chen Lew. Oh, my gosh. I had no idea you were in the States. In California. You work here?” Her musical voice had turned into a squeak.

  What the hell? Rosie knew Chen?

  Chen’s already wicked grin turned wolfish. “So nice to meet you, Rosie.”

  If Elle could roll her eyes any harder, they’d get stuck.

  Elle watched as Rosie’s cheeks turned sunset red. “My dad I and followed your spaceflight. I think he even teaches about it. I can’t believe I’m meeting you. He’ll be so jealous.”

  She frowned. More than five hundred people had been to space so far; she’d just read that somewhere. What was so special about Chen’s experience? Rosie was fangirling hard and Chen, of course, was gobbling it up.

  He slung his arm around Rosie’s shoulder. “Let’s make him more jealous. You need a tour from your favorite astronaut. Hotel talks can wait.” They wandered off, leaving Elle and Tate behind. “I’ll bring her by later,” he called over his shoulder.

  A glance at Tate’s face told her he felt more amused than annoyed at Chen’s diversion. Elle felt differently. After a week of incessant teasing and veiled flirting, she still didn’t know much about her neighbor, except that he didn’t want to kiss her. The look in his eyes as he’d caressed her lips still burned. How could someone’s body scream yes and no at the same time? And why did she care?

  Rosie’s favorite astronaut or not, Chen was damn irritating.

  13

  Tate was enamored with Rosie. Elle was sure of it. He couldn’t sit still near her and that was all the proof she needed. And who could blame him? Rosie was the male version of himself: beautiful, brave, gentle.

  The three of them gathered in Elle’s office after Chen escorted his biggest fan to her door. He’d taken off after that, likely due to a headache from lugging around his ego. She couldn’t move past her irritation at the failed kiss and she did not understand why. It wasn’t like he fit into the mold she’d conceived for her life.

  Gathered around the table, they made small talk and Rosie explained why she wanted to work with OrbitAll. An alignment of missions, of course, because Rosie was as sweet and altruistic as Tate. She pulled a set of ring-bound papers and an iPad out of her bag. She smiled shyly at Tate and slid the package his way. “My firm’s qualifications for this type
of work,” she explained.

  How did she not notice how Tate’s eyes continued to rake her face, as if he were memorizing every detail?

  Because she’s the humblest person you know, Elle reminded herself. Rosie would never suspect Tate saw her as anything other than an architect, and an underqualified one at that. Hence the large packet of information he likely wouldn’t even peruse before hiring her.

  “Let’s see what you’ve brought, my gorgeous unicorn of a friend.”

  Rosie smiled. “Elle mentioned that time is the biggest driver in this project. I brainstormed with my team, and we think the best way to meet your schedule is to adapt a design we’ve already done.” She began tapping on the iPad, then flipped it around for them to see. They watched a three-dimensional video of a small apartment complex, starting in the cozy lobby, swooping into a unit, then flying through some amenity spaces like a gym and outdoor living room. “This isn’t an exact match, but the layout can stay pretty close. The units would be smaller, since Elle mentioned you don’t need kitchens in each one. A communal kitchen can take the place of the gym, since there’s one in town. We’ll add a large conference room for press functions and team meetings. How many units are you thinking?”

  Tate leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other. “Well, there’s six guests, many of whom will travel with extended families.”

  “You’ll need rooms for special guests like former astronauts, elected officials, people like that,” Elle added, helping him work through it. “Many of our guests on the island, likely the same pool of candidates for this service, had personal staff who needed their own villas, so we’ll need extra rooms for that. The press can stay in town. I’d at least double the room count and add a handful for mitigating circumstances.”

  “Twenty?” Rosie suggested. “This layout could accommodate that easily.”

  “Where do you stay?” Elle interrupted, turning to Tate. She’d just realized she had no idea where he lived. Certainly not in the staff apartment complex.