Page 52 of Total Jane Wreck

“Are you suggesting I would bet against either of them? Not happening.”

“Fine,” Chet says. “I predict Miss Adele will establish the upper hand. She’s a descendant of the Wild West.”

“Perhaps,” I retort. “But Betty is the reincarnation of every Kentucky Derby winner who ever lived. She’s just polite about it.”

He laughs—a full-bodied sound, warm and rich. Heat gathers between my legs, traveling up into my belly and down my thighs. Would anyone notice if I jumped the fence and lunged into Chet’s arms?

Probably.

Instead, I watch the mares circle each other—one gold, one brown and white, both too good for this world. For a long moment, Betty just stands there, still as a monument. Then she lets out a huff, and, in a gesture that’s somehow both delicate and grand, she lowers her head as if to say, Alright, I’ll play.

Miss Adele is not about subtlety; she launches forward in a mock charge, and the two of them are suddenly off in a slow-motion chase, all snorts and drama and gleaming muscle. Chet walks over to the ring’s entrance gate and lets himself inside.

“Well, expert?” he asks, standing beside me. “What’s the read on their body language?”

I shrug. “A lot of posturing, but neither’s making a real power move. I like it. They’ll find their rhythm.”

He nods, then glances at me, then at the horses, then back at me. “You’re happy,” he says softly. It’s the kind of earnest comment that makes me want to crack a joke. My face rebels, smiling instead.

“Thanks to you,” I mumble. “Is it weird to love a horse this much?”

Chet tilts his head, considering. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t want you any other way.” He leans in, his hand finding the small of my back. The heat from his touch goes all the way to my toes. I’m pretty sure we’re about to kiss, right here in the bright daylight, right next to a pile of horse manure. But the barn door creaks and Axel Rose emerges. Her presence is a cold bucket of water. Chet and I step apart so fast that we may as well be strangers.

“How’s it going?” Axel calls, squinting our way. “Is our new girl doing okay?”

I nod. “Betty is adjusting just fine.”

Axel Rose gives the horses an appraising once-over and me a sideways glance. “You look like you got hit with a happiness stick.”

I laugh. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“Mmm.” Axel Rose sort of glares at Chet before walking away.

Chet speaks in a voice only I can hear. “Tonight,” he murmurs, “I’ll hit you with my happiness stick.”

I give him a playful shove, my palm lingering a second longer than necessary against his chest. We’re both laughing. But then—an instant shift in Chet’s expression, as if someone flipped a switch. His entire body goes rigid. I follow his gaze over my shoulder, and my stomach drops.

Grace Poole marches toward us. God, she’s been everywhere lately—taking long walks around the property, raiding the kitchen for food that she carries back to the blue barn like some kind of squirrel, making awkward small talk with Axel Rose and me. But every time I ask her any sort of question—like how she spends her time all day inside that blue barn or if she enjoys horses—Grace acts as if I’ve asked for her Social Security number.

“There’s a situation,” she tells Chet, her voice clipped. “Come with me.”

“Sure.” Just like that, he’s gone—following her without even a backward glance. I watch them disappear into the blue barn, trying to ignore the knot forming in my chest.

“Well, that was weird.” Axel Rose has materialized beside me. She gestures toward the barn, her expression skeptical. “Am I the only one confused by what’s happening over there?”

“You’re seriously asking me that?” I shield my eyes against the sun. “After you snapped at me for suspecting Grace might have had something to do with the fire? And then, Mason gets stabbed and somehow she doesn’t know anything about it? Yes, it’s strange.”

“Well . . .” Axel Rose shifts her weight. “There’s a difference between accusing someone of arson and simply thinking she’s a bit odd. And who knows what she may have seen or heard when Mason was stabbed? However, I owe you an apology.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” I nudge her shoulder with mine. “Grace Poole is kinda strange. But Chet wouldn’t let her stay here if she was dangerous, even if she is his aunt.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Axel Rose pauses. “I’m sorry for what I said to you about Chet. Clearly, I was wrong.”

My heart rate kicks up. “Wrong about what?”

Axel Rose gives me a look that says she sees right through me. “Come on, Jane. I’m not blind. The longing glances, the innuendos, the ‘accidental’ touches. How you and Chet both disappeared and reappeared at the same time on July Fourth. It would be cute if I wasn’t so worried about you.”

“Worried? About me?” My voice jumps an octave. “I’m totally fine! Seriously!”