Powerless (Chestnut Springs, #3)(78)

“Oh my god.” Sloane collapses onto the counter, holding the phone over her head, shaking it like I should take it from her.

“Like a five, probably.”

“Beau,” I cut them off with an amused shake of my head, taking the phone from Sloane’s hand. “How badly injured are you? Because I’m gonna make you pay for that joke.”

I meant it in a teasing way, but I can tell my comment sobers them both. I have a real knack for being a buzz kill. Sloane stands back up and leans her shoulder into my chest to appear back on the screen.

Beau clears his throat. “Some minor burns.” He gestures to his legs. “I might need a few months. Then I’ll be able to take you.”

I notice the IV line that disappears at the top of his hand. “What’s the deal?”

“Gotta stay here for a bit. Then they’ll be able to transfer me home. All you complainers will be happy to know that my days moonlighting as James Bond have ended.”

Sloane’s head nods in understanding. He doesn’t seem keen to disclose more, and I’m not one to push when someone wants to keep things under wraps, so I don’t. I default to our regular friendship.

“Yeah, but Bond gets pussy.”

Beau barks out a laugh and I smile at the sound. Fuck, it’s good to see him, and hear him laugh.

“Dude, you’re hooking up with your cousin. Don’t even talk to me about that.”

Sloane pushes up on her tip toes in front of me, like a fiery little dragon, all protective and shit. “Beau Eaton! Never mind Jasper. I’m gonna kick your ass when I see you. Right after I hug the hell out of you and tell you how much I love you.”

Beau smiles, more natural than I’ve seen on his face for this entire conversation, but I can see he’s getting tired. “I’d like to see you try, Sloaney. But I’ll take the hug.”

Harvey must notice the way Beau is fading too because he cuts in, “Okay, we’re gonna give Cade and Willa a call next, so I’m gonna jump in here. You two lovebirds have fun. It’s about dang time you two figured it out. Jasper’s been creeping on ya from under the brim of that dang hat for years. So just be safe. Know that Grandpa Harvey will love the baby, tail and all.”

“Harvey! Are you—”

Beau is laughing when Harvey cuts me off. “We love you two hooligans! Bye!”

And then the image cuts out with a monotone whoosh.

When I glance down, Sloane is laughing hard enough that tears are gathering in her eyes as she wipes them away with the back of her hand. “Goddamn. Harvey is a beast.”

“Never mind Beau. Harvey is dead,” I joke, knowing I’ll never follow through on it.

“Hey, Jas?”

“Yeah?” I tip my head and look down at the woman who has rotated to press her body against mine.

“Have you really been creeping on me from under that cap?”

I shrug and pull her head against my chest. In the same spot I always do—pressing her to my heart and dusting my lips over her hair. “I mean, Sunny . . . have you seen your ass?”





“You’re not supposed to be here, Gervais. Hasn’t been two weeks. I’m gonna pretend I didn’t see you.” Roman drops his attention back down to the papers in his hands as he tries to edge past me down the back hallway of our practice facility.

“Well, I am. And you need me, Coach.”

“Don’t tell me what I need, Jasper. That’s not your job.”

“We’ve been on a losing streak.” Like he doesn’t know. He’s the one who sits on the bench, watching it all happen. For me, I haven’t been able to bring myself to watch. Too hard. Too maddening.

“Yup.” He pops the p, still not giving me his attention. “And we were losing when you were playing too.”

“I need to play. You need me to play—”

The older man stops right in front of me, his brow quirking speculatively as he cuts me off. “No, I need the better version of you who has his head screwed on straight. And you need these last few days on your time out to do it.”

“Time out? What am I? A seven-year-old?”

Roman shakes his head, glancing back down at whatever super interesting shit must be on the paper in front of him. “Sometimes it feels like all of you are just a bunch of seven-year-olds.”

I almost laugh.

“They found him. He’s alive.”

At that, Coach’s head snaps up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I can’t stop the bashful grin that twists my lips.

“Well, heck yes, Jasper.” Roman smiles, crinkling the skin at the corners of his eyes. “That’s the best fucking news I’ve heard in ages.”

He claps my shoulder once. Twice. And tugs me in for a gruff hug before pulling away, one hand on each shoulder to really look me in the eye.

“I want to play.”

He nods. “You been training?”

I doubt Roman would consider a boys versus girls game of shinny—plus a record amount of fucking—training, but exercise is exercise so I say, “Yeah.”

He eyes me speculatively, and I train my face to not give anything away. It’s not the first time I’ve bent the truth with management.

They tell me not to ride horses in my contract too. Doesn’t stop me from getting up and helping with the branding every summer and working cattle for the family reunion in the fall though.