Even If the Sky is Falling

edited by Taj McCoy EVEN IF THE SKY IS FALLING Lane Clarke Farah Heron Taj McCoy Charish Reid Sarah Smith Denise Williams For the ones who hold up the stars for us even when the sky is falling.You know who you are. Introduction Dear Reader, Picture this: the sky is falling. Literally. And the world as we know it is about to end. (Or so everyone thinks.) What would happen next? Would you reveal your long-standing crush on your grumpy boss? Would you reach out to the one who got away? Or the one you ran away from? Luckily for us, some of the romance genre’s most exciting voices—Taj McCoy, Farah Heron, Lane Clarke, Charish Reid, Sarah Smith and Denise Williams—have come together to answer that very question. Now, I don’t want to be too spoilery, but one of the stories features the ultimate hero trifecta: (1) he’s wearing a Henley (2) that shows off his strong forearms (3) as he reads a feminist romance. Perfection, right? I’ll let you in on a little secret: “If The World Was Ending,” a song performed by JP Saxe and Julia Michaels, is one of my favorite songs ever. In it, two former lovers declare that if the world were ending, there’s nowhere they would rather be than with each other. To say that the premise of this anthology is the stuff of my tender heart’s dreams would be an understatement. Reader, I know you’re going to love these stories filled with tension, hope, all the swoons and, yes, plenty of sexy moments. So grab your favorite beverage and settle in for a good time—you’re guaranteed to have one. Hugs, Mia Contents All the Stars by Taj McCoy Keep Calm and Curry On by Farah Heron Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 My Lucky Stars by Lane Clarke Bunker Buddies by Charish Reid Interlude by Sarah Smith Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better by Denise Williams Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Epilogue by Taj McCoy Acknowledgments Author Bios ALL THE STARS TAJ McCOY All The Stars “Willy Song, we are leaving this base and heading to the station in eight minutes, with or without you,” Halley growled through gritted teeth into her phone. She hung up before he could respond. This is the last time I allow this joker off base before a mission. The dry air kicked up dust in the breeze, but the September heat radiated off the tarmac outside a small hangar. Halley Oakes was one mission away from being promoted from a NASA senior communications specialist to project manager, and it all depended on the success of this team. Based on those she’d been assigned, Halley had her doubts that her promotion was any closer than it had been a year before. More than once, Song had put her in a bind that left her with egg on her face in front of her superiors. He could complete most of his job, but not before making matters worse. She was sure someone had been joking when she read the team roster days before. “I’m here, I’m here!” Willy jumped out of an SUV that hadn’t come to a full stop with a cloth grocery bag, clanging its contents in one hand and a mission binder in the other. “Man, I hope we have time for a pit stop, because I think I had some bad shellfish last night, and a three-hour ride with me could be unpleasant.” He scrunched up his nose, waving a hand in front of his face comically until he caught the arctic glare of his superior. His wiry hunched form straightened, and he pushed his floppy dark hair back so it wouldn’t fall into his eyes. Ew. “What the hell is that you’re carrying, Song?” Willy Song was the tech specialist that no one chose for essential missions. Between his inappropriate jokes, his constant need to overshare and his record for accidents, there was no way he should be assigned to this detail. Of course, tell that to the chief—Song happened to be his only nephew. Song hesitated briefly before a sly grin spread across his face. “Have you ever tried a peanut butter stout, boss?” He held open the bag by its handles to show off its contents—a six-pack of beer and a bag of pretzels. He practically danced with excitement, his feet tapping the tarmac to the beat of a rhythmless drum. “It’s locally made at a brewery here in Boulder. It’s supposed to be amazing, with subtle hints of chocolate and peanut butter.” He chef-kissed his fingers as his eyes rolled back. “Ew, no, and don’t call me that. I like Oakes just fine.” Halley wrinkled her nose. Beer was never really appealing to her, and adding peanut butter wasn’t likely to make it better. She smoothed her hands over a self-imposed uniform of black cargo pants, work boots and a thin V-neck sweater with a small NASA emblem embroidered high on the left breast. Her curves felt understated in this uniform, and her thick halo of curls was pulled back into her standard “work attire” bun. She pushed the sleeves up her forearms, wishing she’d opted for something short-sleeved in this heat and running through the inventory of other clothes in her go bag. “Everyone else here, boss?” Song eyed the black Escalade loaded with equipment for the installation. “Glenn is already in the truck. We’re just waiting on Simmons.” Halley checked her watch for what felt like the millionth time. Jake Glenn, their systems engineer, always arrived like clockwork. Lynn Simmons, a part of the protective detail, usually beat everyone there and would nap until it was time to move. Where is she? “Simmons? I thought she got reassigned for that detail in Florida?” He shifted his binder under the arm holding his prized beer so he