Between the Seams

by Aubrey Gross

  Thank God she’d had the good sense to put on jeans and boots, which he’d completely forgotten to suggest to her.

  She watched him as he slid a snake gaiter over his left foot, and then mimicked his movements.

  “I’ve never seen something like these before. I’m guessing they’re effective?”

  “Supposed to be.”

  “That’s reassuring.”

  “Well, if they’re not that’s what the first aid kit is for,” he grinned at her.

  “Fair enough. We’re a little ways from the hospital, though.”

  “Which is why we have a private runway, a small plane and licensed pilot on staff,” he said and then winked.

  “Y’all have thought of everything, haven’t you?”

  “We’ve had to. Like you said, we’re about an hour and a half away from the nearest hospital, and our guests—which tend to be wealthy or friends and business associates of the wealthy— tend to expect things like private runways and easy access to the city and airport.”

  They finished fastening the gaiters and Chase grabbed the rifle from the gun boot before asking, “I know you’ve never hunted, but do you know how to shoot?”

  She shot him a cheeky grin before turning around and lifting up the back of the flowy white cotton tank top she was wearing. He saw a brief flash of gun metal and pink tucked into the back waistband of her jeans, before she let the shirt fall back in place and turned to face him once again. “I realize my nine millimeter may not be super effective against a rattlesnake, but yes, I can shoot.”

  “Well I’ll be damned. You’re just full of surprises this weekend.” Confusing, sometimes sexy surprises.

  Jo snorted and joined him on the trail. “I live in Austin by myself. I wanted to be able to protect myself. And don’t even act like you’re not packing heat, too, cowboy.”

  He paused mid-stride. “How’d you know?”

  “You leaned over earlier. Crossbreed holster. I didn’t see your gun, though, if it’s any consolation.”

  He laughed, resumed walking and then asked, “Do you ever find yourself in public, looking at people trying to determine if they’re carrying?”

  “All the time. Crossbreed holsters can be easy to spot sometimes, because of the crosses on the belt clips. Sometimes I’ll notice a woman with a concealed carry purse, but rarely.”

  “Same here, although I can’t say the same about the purse. I don’t know if I’ve even seen one before.”

  “I’ll show you mine later. They’re not all the same, but some of them are made a certain way so that if you’re paying attention you can figure out they’re for concealed carry.”

  Of all the conversations he’d imagined them having, easy banter about holsters sure as hell hadn’t been one of them.

  Before he could respond, they rounded a curve in the trail and burst through a wall of mesquite shrubs and purple sage. Chase knew the minute Jo saw where they were by her quick, surprised gasp.

  They stood on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the Devils River. Five hundred feet below them the river wound lazily through the ranch, and across from them was a wide expanse of gently rolling land dotted with scrub brush, cacti, mountain laurel, wild persimmon and oak trees. In the distance was a deep canyon, and then taller hills and plateaus.

  “I always feel like I can see to the edge of the earth from here.”

  “It’s beautiful, Chase. Absolutely gorgeous.”

  He scanned the area across the river and pointed. “Look, there, you can see a couple of bison.”

  She squinted and held her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. “Where? I’m not seeing them.”

  Chase stood behind her and guided her hand up so that her index finger was pointing in the right direction. “There.”

  She looked again, stilled, and softly said. “I see them now.”

  He was standing close enough so that her blonde hair tickled his nose, the scent tormenting him in the best sort of way. His hand had dropped and settled on her hip. As they stood there, the sun starting to dip close to the horizon and paint the sky in shades of blue and orange, she leaned back into him, and Chase rested his chin on the top of her head.

  “Beautiful,” she murmured.

  He wasn’t looking at the sunset when he said, “Absolutely beautiful.”

  ~~*~~

  Chapter Seven

  “You up for a beer?”

  Two days after taking Jo out to Devils Ranch, Chase looked up from his laptop and the contract he’d been trying to read for the last thirty minutes and rubbed his eyes. Owen stood at his office door, his polo shirt wrinkled and dirty, his jeans looking no better, his red hair disheveled and a tired look on his face.

  Chase asked, “Rough day at the office?”

  Owen sighed, ambled over and flopped into a chair. “You could say that. Contractor hit a pipe while digging. Had to get that fixed. Then the cement truck broke down. Blew the engine. Took another two hours to get a new one out to the site. Two of my guys got into a fight and one of them ended up in the ER with a broken hand. Left the hospital about an hour ago, got a quarter mile away and blew a tire. It’s been a perfect day.”

  “Wanna take a stab at translating legal jargon into plain English?”

  “I’ll take busted pipes, broken down cement trucks, broken hands and blown tires any day over legal shit.”

  Chase glanced at the time. 6:47. He vaguely remembered Kim poking her head into his office some time ago to let him know she was leaving for the day. He rubbed his hands over his face, knowing that the contract in front of him was going to continue to sound like gibberish to his tired brain, and closed the laptop. “I think I could definitely be up for a beer.”

  “Wings and Rings?” Owen asked, referring to their favorite place to grab a beer, some wings and unwind while watching a game on one of the many big screen TVs.

  “Sounds good to me. Let me just shut everything down and I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Owen got up and left, leaving Chase alone with his thoughts once more. He threw one more glance at his laptop, knowing that tomorrow he would have to force himself to focus and push Jo from his mind.

  A man had to get some work done for crying out loud.

  He vaguely thought about texting Jenn, seeing if maybe she and Jo would like to join them, and then realized he was acting like one of the teenagers Jo counseled. He dropped his head into his hands and muttered to himself, “For the love of tits, Roberts, you’re a grown man. Act like one.”

  But the thought of tits made him think about Jo, and her breasts, and how amazing they’d felt pressed up against him when he’d kissed her that night at Owen’s. The erection that had been at half-mast since he’d dropped her back off at her grandma’s house two days ago—and partially the reason why he hadn’t been able to focus on the stupid contract—stiffened completely.

  He’d inadvertently chosen a really bad time to go celibate.

  Not that he wouldn’t change his mind if the opportunity presented itself. Jo wasn’t someone just looking for a one-night stand. She wasn’t looking to use him any more than he was looking to use her.

  No, he would definitely not turn down that opportunity if it presented itself, no matter how much doing so would complicate things.

  Shaking images of Jo naked and in his bed from his mind, Chase switched off his desk lamp before leaving his office, setting the alarm as he left the building.

  In a few short minutes he was at Wings and Rings, making his way to his and Owen’s usual booth in a quiet corner away from the noise of the bar, but with a big screen TV directly in their line of sight. As he approached, he saw that Owen wasn’t alone.

  Something in his gut tightened and then settled when he saw Jo and Jenn sitting there with Owen.

  “Evening, ladies,” he said as he reached the booth.
<
br />   Jo’s cheeks pinkened a little and she looked away quickly.

  “Hey, Chase. Jo and I had just gotten here, then Owen walked in and invited us to sit with y’all. Figured you wouldn’t mind,” Jenn said in response.

  “Why would I mind?” Chase took the only empty space left, which happened to be next to Jo.

  He was pretty sure his friends were conspiring against him.

  He wasn’t sure if he minded all that much.

  Their waitress came by, and he ordered a Shiner and his usual Xtra Hot boneless wings. Owen and Jenn were arguing about something, and Jo was oddly quiet beside him. He looked up at the TV and noted the score. The Wranglers were up 2-0 in the bottom of the third, and the camera panned to his brother in the dugout. His stat line flashed across the screen and Chase realized his brother was in the very early stages of pitching the Thing That Shall Not Be Named.

  “Looks like he’s pitching a good game,” Jo said from beside him.

  Chase nodded as the waitress returned with his beer. “That he is. Looks like he’s getting some offense behind him, too.”

  No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Guzman belted a fastball out to Colt’s Hill, which the Colt’s Hill Kid promptly caught before dropping to the ground and doing The Worm.

  “Three nothing.”

  Chase turned to Jo. “I didn’t realize you were actually a baseball fan.”

  She shrugged and looked up at him. “More of a casual fan with a couple of favorite pitchers. I understand the rules and the basics, but not the minutiae or the strategy that goes into it. Gran, however, is a huge baseball fan, so I’ve watched a few more games than usual over the past few weeks. It’s amazing how much you can pick up in such a short amount of time.”

  He wasn’t about to ask her if she knew enough to realize that Matt was pitching the Thing That Shall Not Be Named, but he sure as hell hoped that if she did, she also knew not to call it by its actual name.

  Some things really never did change, including superstitious tendencies.

  Their waitress appeared with their food, and Chase watched the game as the inning ended and segued into a commercial break. Quiet settled over the table as everyone took that first bite of food. Too soon, the quiet was broken by Owen and Jenn going back to arguing over whatever it was they were arguing about.

  “Do they always do that?”

  Chase didn’t even have to ask Jo what she was talking about; he’d gotten the question before. “Yes. It never stops.”

  Jo considered the two friends, chewed thoughtfully on her burger. Chase chuckled. “I know what you’re thinking. And I’m pretty sure they really are a lot like brother and sister, but that doesn’t mean people haven’t wondered.”

  “Well, it is curious. I would think, though, that she would have said something to me if there was anything going on.”

  He leaned in, his mouth close enough to brush against her ear lobe, and lowered his voice. “Do you and Jenn tell each other everything?”

  Jo turned her head, her lips millimeters from his jaw, and whispered, “Not everything.”

  Chase couldn’t resist nuzzling his nose in her hair for the briefest of moments. Just long enough to torture himself.

  She inhaled sharply and went completely still. He nuzzled her hair again, thinking about all the things he wished he could be doing with her right now, wondering what she was thinking, when her hand squeezed his thigh.

  Hard.

  “Chase!”

  He jumped back like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Sorry.”

  “No, no. Chase! Matt. He’s hurt.”

  Jo’s words were like having a bucket of ice water dumped over his entire body. He turned his attention back to the TV, realized Owen and Jenn had stopped arguing and were silently watching, too.

  Their waitress passed by and Chase managed to ask her, “Can you turn up the game?”

  She took a remote out of her apron and turned up the volume.

  “Thanks.”

  On the TV, the announcers were silent. The entire ball park was silent.

  And there was his brother, crumpled on the mound, the manager and the athletic trainers kneeling over him, concern plastered over their faces. The announcers finally started talking again, their voices hushed as they began to lead in to the replay of what had happened.

  Chase watched it in a daze. As a former pitcher at a fairly high level, he knew the dangers of standing up on the mound and all of the various and sundry injuries that could happen.

  This one was bad. Really bad.

  The batter had hit a line drive, but instead of going out to center it had collided with Matt’s head. The sound was sickening, like the bat hitting the ball all over again. His brother immediately fell to the ground.

  Amazingly, the second baseman managed to catch the ball after it ricocheted off of Matt’s head, effectively keeping the Thing That Shall Not Be Named in play.

  Matt, however, wasn’t moving.

  “Come on, Matt. Get up. Get up.” It was a litany. A prayer. Muttered under his breath as his stomach churned and his beer and wings threatened to make a return appearance.

  Numbly, he felt Jo’s fingers close around his, squeezing tight. He was thankful for the anchor.

  “Get up. Dammit, Matt. Get up.”

  Matt wasn’t moving.

  And then he did.

  Barely.

  Chase released the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. Matt was moving. He still wasn’t sitting up, but he’d moved his hand.

  The ballpark and their booth remained eerily silent as a stretcher was brought out to the field.

  Was his mom watching the game? Oh, God, what if Mom was watching the game?

  Panicked, he pulled out his cell phone from his back pocket saw he hadn’t missed any calls.

  Maybe Mom wasn’t watching the game. He would wait, see what happened, and then call her and Dad.

  This was just a precaution, right?

  But he knew it wasn’t. He knew it, deep in his gut. And while he and his brother had had their differences, and they’d had their fair share of arguments and yes, Chase had had his fair share of jealousy that his baseball career had ended with college, this wasn’t supposed to have happened. Not to his big brother.

  He felt sick.

  Matt’s body was gingerly placed on the stretcher. The EMTs strapped him down and then extended the stretcher to its full height before rolling him off the field and to the waiting ambulance. As they reached the baseline, Matt raised his hand a few inches and waved to the fans, which elicited a relieved cheer followed by muted clapping from the crowd.

  The sound of his phone ringing jolted him, bringing everything into sharp relief.

  Mom.

  “Something’s happened to Matt,” his mom sobbed into the phone.

  “I know, Mom. I just saw it. He’ll be ok, Mom. It’s Matt. He’ll be ok.” Chase wasn’t sure if the words were meant to soothe his mom or himself.

  His mom’s sobs filled the line until his dad’s voice became sharper. And then Dad was there and Chase felt his gut tighten again.

  “You okay?” his dad asked.

  “I think the more important question here would be is Matt okay?”

  His dad sighed, and Chase could tell he was moving to another room, away from his mom. “I know, son. That didn’t look good.”

  “That didn’t sound good, Dad, much less look good.”

  “Your mama’s gonna need you, you know that.”

  Chase pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know, Dad. Just…give me some time. She doesn’t need to see me worried, because if I’m worried she’ll know that she needs to be worried.”

  “I know, son. Hold on. My phone’s ringing. Let me get it real quick.”

  Chase listened as hi
s dad answered the other phone, could make out bits and pieces of conversation. The words hospital, MRI, CT scan. Brain.

  His dad hung up the other phone and came back on the line. “That was the team doctor. They’re taking him in for an MRI. He’s conscious but in some pain.”

  Chase could hear his dad’s swallow over the phone line. “Chase, he’s bleeding from his ear.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I’ll let you know more as I hear things. I’ve gotta figure out how to break this to your mama.”

  “Be honest with her, Dad. She can handle it. We can all handle it.” We’ve gotten worse news before.

  “I know, son. I just worry.”

  “I love you, Dad. Give Mom a hug and a kiss for me. I’ll be over in a little while.”

  “Love you too, Chase.”

  The call ended and Chase numbly set the phone on the table. He ran his free hand through his hair, his other one still entangled with Jo’s.

  Vaguely, he felt eyes on him. Owen, Jenn and Jo were all watching him. As was everyone else in the place.

  They were trying not to, but they were. As Matt Roberts’ little brother and a man who was firmly ensconced in Del Rio society, Chase was a subject of interest, and everyone in the restaurant had witnessed Matt’s injury.

  Jo squeezed his hand, and Chase finally spoke, quietly so that only the four of them could hear what he said. “That was Mom and Dad. Matt’s at the ER and they’re doing an MRI right now. He has some bleeding from his ear. That’s really all anyone knows right now.”

  Their booth was silent for long moments until Jenn, in her typical wiseass way, broke the silence. “Well, I guess that dispels the theory that he has a skull full of rocks.”

  Chase laughed, thankful to Jenn and her sense of humor. It wasn’t the first time she’d used it to make him feel better, and he doubted it would be the last.

  At the sight of Chase laughing, the pace of the restaurant seemed to normalize. People still glanced at him from time to time, but their attention had gone back to their wings and their own dramas.