A Cosmic Kind of Love(110)

It wouldn’t be for a while yet, but Chris took the deal and would be a published author.

A published author and a mission specialist with NASA.

I was so proud of him.

I already missed him even though I knew our separation was temporary. Dark thoughts crept into my mind now and then that somehow the distance would force us apart. I knew that would only happen if we let it and that both of us were committed to making our relationship work. Yet fear didn’t often listen to sense.

Shoving the morose thoughts aside, I snuggled deeper into Chris’s side, and we wandered into our room. Somehow, I think we both were more sleepy from a lazy day of eating and drinking than we were from all our adventures. We changed our clothes and readied for bed. A few gentle kisses good night later, we lay down and were out by the time our heads hit the pillow.



* * *





It was the cramps that woke me.

Despite the AC, my skin was slicked with sweat as I jolted up from sleep in a panic and launched myself off the bed toward the bathroom. I just made it in time to throw up the entire contents of my stomach.

“Oh, fuck,” I heard behind me, and glanced up just in time to see Chris launch himself at the sink to do the same.

That set me off again.

Things only got worse from there.

To put it politely, our bodies wanted everything we’d consumed in that seafood restaurant to evacuate from wherever it could.

Hours later, exhausted, miserable, Chris and I lay on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, afraid to leave just in case. And honestly too weak to get up.

We stared hazily at each other in pale-faced shock.

“I think it was the seafood,” I whispered hoarsely, my mouth and throat dry.

“Don’t talk about it,” Chris begged, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Of all the things we’ve eaten on this trip . . . the five-star resort got us.”

Chris snorted and then cracked, “Now we really do know everything about each other.”

Despite the misery of the situation, I started to laugh, shaking against the tiles as tears of hilarity brightened my eyes. Chris’s laughter joined mine until we were gasping for air.

But when we grew quiet, I reached weakly across the floor for his hand, and he curled his sweat-dampened fingers around mine. “No one I’d rather go through epic food poisoning with.”

He smiled wearily at me. “Back at you, mi cielo.”

I must have drifted off, because the next thing I knew, Chris was lifting me gently to undress me and help me into the shower. My energy depleted, my head spinning, I could only hold on to him as he cleaned us from head to toe.

Out of the shower, I leaned against his back as I drank the bottled water he’d insisted I consume. All the while Chris brushed the tangles out of my wet hair and pulled it up into a bun so it was off my neck. I made sure he downed a bottle of water too, and then he helped me into a fresh silk nightie and led me back to bed. “Big spoon or little spoon?” he murmured in my ear as we got in.

“Big.”

Sometimes when I was too hot, I preferred to be the big spoon.

So Chris turned, and I snuggled into his back, my head pounding, feeling like I might sleep for a year. I slid my arms around his waist, and he covered my hand with his.

After pressing a kiss to his naked back, I whispered, “Feel better. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he murmured.

My last thought before falling asleep was that weirdly after our ordeal I wasn’t afraid of the temporary long-distance relationship looming in our immediate future. We loved each other. We took care of each other. I was pretty sure if we could experience this level of “intimacy” and come out of it closer than ever, we could deal with a little bit of distance.

Chris and I were in this for life.

Through all the epic adventures and through the very worst ones too.

As long as we had each other, we could handle anything the cosmos sent our way.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS





For as long as I can remember I have been simultaneously fascinated and terrified by space and its many mysteries. While reading an astronaut’s biography one day, it occurred to me that I had never read a romance with an astronaut for a hero. As soon as the thought occurred to me, the idea for A Cosmic Kind of Love snowballed at speed until Hallie and Chris were living their story out in my head, demanding to be written.

While for the most part writing is a solitary endeavor, publishing most certainly is not. I have to thank my amazing editor, Kerry Donovan, for loving this idea, for believing in it, and for helping me bring this story to fruition. Moreover, thank you to all the team at Berkley for your hard work on Hallie and Chris’s story.

A very special thank-you to Emma Renshaw and Jessica Galván for their contributions. I’m forever grateful.

Of course, a massive thank-you to my agent extraordinaire, Lauren Abramo. Thank you for always having my back and for making it possible for readers all over the world to read my stories. I’m so lucky to have you!

And thank you to my bestie and PA, Ashleen Walker, for handling all the things and supporting me through everything. There are no words for how much I appreciate and love you.

Thank you to the wonderful Elena Armas, Tessa Bailey, Staci Hart, and Chloe Liese for agreeing to read early copies of Cosmic and for saying such lovely things about it. I truly appreciate you!