Powerless (Chestnut Springs, #3)(29)

Proof that I’m too late. That no matter how hard I work on my reaction time between the pipes, my personal life has always been one big miss. I freeze up. And while I get stuck in my head, the world keeps turning.

Because as I sit around wondering if we could ever be more, nursing all my complicated emotions, the reality is she almost walked down the aisle with another man. Any feelings she once had for me must be long gone.

Truth be told, I can’t really tell what she’s feeling right now. She can say she’s not sad, but I’m familiar with how grief works. I know it comes in waves. I know you can feel fine about something one day and it can fucking cripple you the next.

The anger always comes.

And I know that what she needs right now is Jasper, her friend. Not Jasper who’s been too big of a coward to cross that line even though he’s been thinking about it for years.

I carefully remove my limbs from her sleeping form, pushing away the swell of regret that hits me when I release her. I force my eyes to the ground, watching my toes against the hardwood floor as I reach for whatever clothes I can find.

And then I leave the room, too weak to keep myself from looking back at her sleeping form one last time. She looks small and frail—too thin. She looks exhausted and I hope she sleeps. I hope she eats.

The door shuts quietly behind me, and I take long strides down to the kitchen, not sure what I’ll be walking into when I get there.

I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t handle emotional situations well. Trauma? I’ve got enough, thanks. Feelings? Too many of those too.

I round the corner into the big farmhouse kitchen consisting of wide, worn floor planks, dark wood cabinetry, and hunter-green walls. The entire house is outdated and yet . . . not. It’s like it was transported straight off the set of Yellowstone.

Complete with two country boys sitting at the table over a cup of coffee.

“Did you get dressed in the dark?” Cade snipes at me.

Harvey barks out a laugh, and I glance down at myself, realizing I grabbed a neon pink shirt with a yellow energy drink logo on it, black and white stripes on the arms. It truly is atrocious, but it was dark last night. I think it was promotional. I’m positive I’ve never worn it before. And it really does clash with the pair of army green joggers I’m wearing.

My lips quirk. “Listen, the day I take fashion advice from someone as old as you, who barely leaves this ranch, is the day I die.”

I see Cade’s cheek twitch. Picking on each other is our comfort zone. And damn, it feels good. The days have slowly bled into a depressed normalcy. We’ve had one awkward family dinner. Harvey didn’t make any blow job jokes, and Beau wasn’t there to lighten the mood. It feels like everyone is just going through the motions. Waiting to hear something is the worst.

I go straight for the coffee maker, pour myself a mug, and take a seat at the table with the two other men.

“I think you’re just so used to everyone fawning over you that you don’t know when you look like a fucking clown anymore.”

“Adorable coming from the guy who wears his jeans at least two sizes too small.” I give Cade a big, cheesy grin, loving the feel of something that isn’t just sad.

“Willa likes them tight.”

I quirk a brow. “How long does it take her to peel them off of you? My money is on at least five minutes.”

“Bring your timer. You can watch next time, could probably teach your dumb ass a thing or two.”

Harvey’s head whips between us, an amused smile on his lips.

“I’ll be sure to give you some notice so you can get your Viagra down in time, old boy.”

“Oh, nah.” Harvey waves a hand dismissively. “The Eatons are a virile bunch. Even I don’t need those.”

“Jesus Christ.” Cade’s head drops, and his eyes stare into his coffee cup like he’s scrying for answers on how to make his dad stop saying inappropriate things.

I snort because I know that day will never come. And it’s a sign of life that I’ll take. Harvey’s sense of humor is one of my favorite things about him—always has been.

And quiet as I’ve been through the years, I never can quite resist toeing that line with him. Pushing him a smidge farther to see what he’ll say.

“You got someone special on the receiving end of all that virility, Harv?”

“A few someones. Hard to pick just one, ya know? Why choose?” He smiles back at me maniacally.

“Make sure you wrap it up,” is my casual response. After the death of his wife so long ago, I’m happy he has some company.

Harvey grins. “Talk to Cade about that. Not me.”

Cade groans and tips his head back, now staring at the ceiling. “I should have stayed at my house.”

I nod, taking a long pull of the coffee in my hand. “Probably. It’s early. Wasn’t expecting to find you here.”

“Well, Harvey and I were about to do rock, paper, scissors to see who would take a road trip out to see Violet in Ruby Creek with a load of hay.”

My head quirks. “Sorry?”

Harvey jumps in. “Something about a hay shortage out that way. Hot, dry summer. So she called us, begging for a trailer full to help them get through the winter. She still complains that the hay out there sucks compared to ours.” The older man puffs up a little at that compliment from his only daughter.