Page 7 of Over the Moon (Rosewood River #3)

five

. . .

Clark

Easton

Bring your A game, assholes. The Chad-Six ride tonight.

My brother Easton was a complete lunatic when it came to pickleball. Our team, the Chad-Six, were the reigning champions at the Rosewood River Country Club, and though none of us really wanted to play anymore, we did it because it meant so much to the bastard.

Rafe

I have jetlag, but apparently, I have no choice but to play fucking pickleball hours after a long flight.

Rafe and Lulu had just arrived back in Rosewood River after living abroad in Paris.

Easton

Correct. You signed up for the team. A commitment is a commitment.

Bridger

None of us signed up for this.

Axel

He’s right. You forced us to play.

Bridger

And what are you talking about with the jetlag? You’ve been back in town for three days.

Rafe

Jetlag can last for weeks. Don’t be a hater. And why does Archer get to have a sub?

Archer

Hey. Have a kid and then come cry me a river. You flew home from Paris. You probably ate a baguette and sipped champagne from your fancy pod.

A baguette sounds fucking great right now. I’m exhausted from five hours of practice. But by all means, make an injured man play pickleball.

Easton

I plan on it. If you don’t find a suitable sub, you’ve got to play.

I found three replacements, and you said no to all of them.

Easton

Shall we revisit your choices…? Mrs. Dowden, a woman who is far too old to be a nanny, is who you asked to play pickleball. She can’t even watch Melody while her father plays pickleball. It was an offensive choice.

Archer

I have to agree. She told me you offered her a hundred bucks to play. The woman can barely walk.

Rafe

That woman will do anything for a buck. Including guilting her boss into keeping her as his nanny when she barely gets around.

Axel

Wow. Mrs. Dowden was the first choice for pickleball? Clearly, you don’t care if we defend our title. I can’t wait to hear who else made the list.

Bridger

It better not have been Emilia Taylor. I will walk the fuck off that court.

Here we go. My brother, Bridger, absolutely despised Emilia Taylor, as he was convinced she wrote the ridiculous column called the Taylor Tea . They often gossiped about our family, and he’d decided long ago that she was behind it, and his anger only grew each time the column was released.

Archer

Your obsessive disdain for the poor girl is alarming.

Agreed. Emilia is a freaking florist. She’s harmless. And no, I didn’t ask her to sub for me because I knew your irrational ass would throw a hissy fit.

Bridger

I don’t throw fits. I walk off the court.

Easton

His second choice for a sub was Mom.

Rafe

Mom is a wonderful mother, an excellent cook, and no one recites the lyrics to Jelly Roll’s music quite like Ellie Chadwick. But athletic, she is not.

Easton

She asked me if we won a jar of pickles after the tournament.

Axel

Wow. Your candidates are very unusual. Who was the third choice?

Janson Parker. He’s athletic. Smart.

Rafe

The least reliable teenager on the planet. He flaked on shoveling snow for all of us.

Easton

Well, I almost went for it, but when I interviewed him, he told me that he could come tonight, “pending” his girlfriend doesn’t get out of cheer practice early and want to “hang.” I don’t allow amateurs on the Chad-Six.

Bridger

You interviewed for a sub position?

Archer

Axel

I would expect nothing less. And for the record, this is not the same girlfriend from the snow shoveling debacle. He’s got a new lady. I ran into them at the Green Basket.

Easton

I hate the Green Basket. Why do you still shop there?

We all do. It’s the only grocery store in town. I saw you there last week.

Easton

Correct. I’m not proud.

Bridger

We need to bring DoorDash to Rosewood River. I’d never have to leave the house or see anyone.

Rafe

I would suggest Janson for the job, but he’d never show up with the order.

Archer

The dude gets around. He’s always got a girlfriend. He’s become completely unreliable.

Easton

Hence why Clark needs to show up tonight.

I can’t run. My trainer will kick my ass.

Easton

Just stand there and use those long arms to hit the damn ball. Rafe, you’re going to need to step it up as his partner.

Rafe

I’m exhausted, and the mac and cheese I had for lunch is not sitting so well.

Dude. You’re my partner, and you need to carry the team tonight. I can’t run. I shouldn’t even be going.

Easton

Suck it up, buttercup. Ball drops in an hour.

Bridger

It’s pickleball, for fuck’s sake.

Easton

Fastest growing sport in America, bitches. See you soon.

When I pulled up at the Rosewood River Country Club for pickleball, I knew it was a bad idea. I would have to make a real effort to find a replacement for the next few weeks. I would be damned if I was going to fuck up my knee for a sport that didn’t pay my bills.

When I made my way out to the court, it was a lot more crowded than usual.

“What’s going on here?” I asked, as Easton dropped his bag on the bench.

“They started hosting a free play night for amateurs. Apparently, it’s just for fun. Why the fuck would anyone be in a league that is just for fun? Who does anything for fun and not for a purpose?” he hissed.

“Um… most humans enjoy having fun,” Henley said. “I think it’s great that anyone can play at any skill level, and it’s not structured as a tournament. There’s less pressure.”

“Says the collegiate tennis champion.” Easton barked out a laugh. “You would not be playing pickleball if it weren’t to win the gold at the end, baby.”

“Easton,” she said, as the corners of her lips turned up, “I did not sign up to play pickleball. You forced me to sub for Archer.”

“And now I’ve got to play because Rafe doesn’t think he can play every game,” Lulu griped. “Hen and I could be inside sipping martinis instead of being yelled at on the court.”

“I second that,” Rafe said. “I would much rather be inside having a cocktail instead of being berated out here. Plus, there’s a shitter in the dining room, so I wouldn’t have to run for it if that mac n cheese decides to go medieval on my insides.”

“Pull your shit together, people. Pun intended.” Easton pointed at Rafe before turning to each of us. “You’re a member of the Chad-Six. Check yourselves.”

Laughter bellowed from everyone just as Bridger and Axel walked over.

“Pep talk?” Axel oozed sarcasm.

“Damn straight.” Easton motioned to the courts. “Let’s get after it.”

“What’s with all the people today?” Bridger grumped.

“Free play for anyone who has a pickleball racquet and no experience,” Easton hissed.

“Chadwick, are you going to stand around and chat or come defend your title?” Barry Wilcox called out from court number three.

I rolled my eyes because the dude was a dick, and he loved to mess with Easton.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a familiar voice shouted, and we all turned in her direction, a cocky grin on my face at the stormy look on hers.

This should be fun.

“Who in the hell is this?” Bridger snipped.

“This would be my trainer and physical therapist,” I said, unable to hide my smile as Eloise stormed toward me.

Why was I happy to see her when she looked like she was ready to kick me in the balls?

“Chadwick, what do you think you’re doing?” she hissed, as she stopped in front of me with her arms crossed over her chest.

Damn, she was pretty.

“I’m playing pickleball, Weeze.” I arched a brow, as everyone just stood there, gaping at her.

“You are not.” She yanked the racquet out of my hand.

“Excuse me. I’m Easton Chadwick, Clark’s brother and captain of the Chad-Six. We are about to start a game, and he’s part of this team,” my brother said.

“Well, Easton Chadwick,” her voice oozed sarcasm as she tipped her chin up and faced my brother directly, “Clark will not be playing pickleball. He’s recovering from an MCL tear that he’s working hard to repair, and playing pickleball is quite possibly the worst idea on the planet.

I’m quite certain, as Clark’s brother, that you would not find pickleball more important than his career as a professional athlete with the Lions, who happen to be the Stanley Cup champions. ”

Easton blinked a few times, and it was clear that she’d caught him off guard.

“He’s not going to run. He’s got long arms,” Easton said, and even he didn’t seem to believe his own bullshit.

“That’s not realistic. I’m going to have to put my foot down.”

“Put your foot down? You think this is your decision?” Easton huffed.

“Well, I was sent to live here for three months to help him heal,” she said, flicking her thumb at me as I stood back and let my over-the-top physical therapist battle it out with my pickleball-obsessed brother.

“And seeing as he’s my only client, I need to make sure that happens.

So yes, I believe it’s my decision because in my professional opinion, this is a bad idea, and I think that your brother cares too much for his sport to argue this. ”

Easton narrowed his gaze and studied her before turning to look at me. “Be straight with me. Is this a bad idea?”

“It’s a terrible idea,” I said with a laugh. “I figured I’d try standing still, but it would never last, so I’ll either reinjure myself or deal with the wrath of the Pickleball King.”

He rolled his eyes before turning back to look at Eloise. “Well then, seeing as this is your job and all, I’m guessing you’ll do whatever it takes to make sure Clark doesn’t play.”

“You’d be correct.” She arched a brow, daring him to challenge her.

“Looks like you’re subbing for Clark. You better not suck because I don’t lose.”

She looked to me for help, and I shrugged. “Trust me. If you don’t want me to play, you’re going to need to do this.”

“I like this girl,” Lulu said, moving beside me and extending a hand.

“I’m Lulu Sonnet. My better half just ran to the bathroom once again, because he insisted on eating that damn mac ‘n cheese again at the Honey Biscuit Café. So I’m first up with Clark.

You and I can be partners.” They shook hands, and Eloise quickly introduced herself.

“You best make sure she can hit the ball, Lu,” Easton snipped.

“Take it down a notch, Chadwick. We’re going to dominate.” They jogged out to the court, and Easton led Henley over to their court.

“Your trainer is hot,” Axel said with a smirk. “And she held her own with Easton, which is saying a lot.”

“She’s off-limits,” I growled.

I wasn’t sure why I felt so protective of her. Maybe it was because she was Coach Gable’s daughter. Or maybe it was something else.

I wasn’t sure.

He arched a brow. “Oh. Is that so?”

“Dude. She’s my coach’s daughter. Do. Not. Go. There.” I held his gaze.

“I don’t think it’s your coach that I need to worry about.” He barked out a laugh. “I’ll grab our waters. Meet you on the court, Bridger.”

“So, let me ask you something,” Bridger said, staring across the courts to where the free play was happening.

“No, you can’t date her.”

“That wasn’t my question. I don’t ask for permission to date someone.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “But why is your trainer here with the enemy? I saw her and Emilia playing together; I just didn’t realize she was your trainer.”

I followed his gaze to where Emilia Taylor was playing pickleball and literally missing every single ball that came her way. I prayed like hell that Eloise could play better than that, or Easton would lose his shit.

“She rents the guesthouse behind Emilia’s house.”

“So she’s probably feeding Emilia information about us,” he huffed.

I rolled my eyes. “She barely speaks to me. She has not asked for any family secrets.”

“Just watch your back. Emilia probably brought her in to infiltrate the family,” he grumped. “They may have known one another for years.”

“Let me get this straight. You think that Eloise Gable went to physical therapy school and made sure her father got hired by the Lions as the head coach, all so that she could come to Rosewood River after I tore my MCL to get information about our family to print in the Taylor Tea ?” I started laughing and couldn’t stop, because my brother was ridiculous when it came to this shit.

He whacked my upper arm with his racquet like the dickhead he was, and I howled in pain, which he completely ignored. He used his two fingers, pointing them toward his eyes and then back to me, as if I wouldn’t understand his next words. “Just keep your eye on her.”

He jogged out to the court where Axel was bouncing the ball, and I turned my attention to where Lulu and Eloise were playing.

Eloise wore a pink tennis skirt and a white collared tank top. Her legs were lean and tan, and she was incredibly distracting. She stirred something in me that I knew I needed to stifle.

She was as off-limits as one gets.

I watched as she spiked the ball before high-fiving Lulu.

This was definitely not her first rodeo.

I sat back and enjoyed the show.

Eloise Gable had just stood up to my brother and took my place on the Chad-Six.

This girl was full of surprises.