Page 24 of Lasso Lovebirds (Rainbow Ranch #4)

sky

In a rare moment of cell service, my phone’s weather radar alert went off in the middle of the night, jolting me awake.

I was sandwiched between Pris and Beau, the three of us somehow squeezed together on his bed. I grabbed my phone and silenced it before it woke either one of them, glancing side to side.

Pris and Beau were both snoring softly. I smiled to myself, a feeling of content washing over me. Last night was something special. The connection between the three of us was deeply rooted. All of the feelings that had been swirling through me since I came here had proven to be right.

I swallowed hard and opened my phone, my eyes widening as I saw the weather alert.

A storm cell was brewing a few miles north of us, and it looked promising. They were predicting a couple of tornadoes, both estimated to be E2s. I checked my emails while I had a strong connection, and saw one from the organization I did some work for.

They were asking for more footage and data if I could make it out there.

I felt a streak of excitement over what I knew best—chasing storms, taking photos, gathering data. It was in my blood, this desire to learn everything I possibly could about them.

I went back to the radar, pressing my lips together as I studied the pattern.

There’d hardly been any storms, except for the day I’d come to Rainbow Ranch.

Did I wake them and let them know I was going out?

I knew Beau would be nervous if I did. And even more so if I brought Pris with me.

I chewed my bottom lip and then decided to hell with it. I’d go track the storms and see if I got anything. More than likely, I wouldn’t. Storms were so unpredictable, and most fizzled out before becoming anything dangerous.

Carefully, I slid out of bed and quietly redressed. My muscles were a little sore, but the ache was the good kind. I brushed my fingers across the rope marks around my torso and smiled to myself.

I liked seeing the aftermath of being together. They reminded me of everything we’d shared.

Today was the day I needed to tell them I wanted to stay.

I wanted Rainbow Ranch to be my home.

I wanted to keep chasing the love I felt for both of them.

Love.

My heart beat faster as the realization washed over me completely.

I loved both of them.

My eyes pricked with tears. I’d been dreaming of feeling this way my entire life, but now that I felt it—it was scary. Was I even good enough for them? Could they love me back? Was I moving too fast?

A whole flood of doubts rushed over me as I backed to the door, quietly stepping out. The moment the door clicked softly behind me, I took off down the hallway to my bedroom and went in, snatching my backpack and keys. I caught a glimpse of the clock on my bedside table.

It was five a.m., which gave me plenty of time to chase the storm, and meant the sun might rise in time to light up the pictures.

It also gave me plenty of time to wonder what the hell I was doing.

I was so sure Rainbow Ranch was the place for me. I knew it was. But it still suddenly felt scary to think about being here.

I rushed down the hall and through the living room, quietly stepping out onto the front porch. The barn lights cut through the darkness, but in the distance I could see the bands of lightning dancing in a wall of clouds.

“There you are,” I whispered.

The rush of exhilaration hit me and all my other worries disappeared. I jogged down the steps and headed to the garage, pulling the massive door open. I hopped in my van, tossed my backpack in the passenger seat, and cranked on the engine.

The van rumbled to life. I flipped on the headlights and sat still for a moment.

I should have left a note that I was going to chase a storm. But, I’d be back before they woke up, especially since it was so close.

I pulled out of the garage, the tires crunching over the gravel as I soared down the road past the arena and toward the front of the property.

Within a few minutes, I pulled up to the gate and hopped out, pushing it open so I could drive through. I realized this was the first time I’d left the ranch since arriving, and I paused, looking back at it.

A sense of calm settled over me and I smiled to myself.

This was meant to be. I was supposed to be here. I knew that so deeply, that my eyes watered up.

“See you again soon,” I whispered.

Getting back in the van, I peeled out onto the road, took a right, and floored it straight toward the storm.

The van was my pride and joy. The console had the primary computer, a touchscreen monitor, power equipment, radar, and GPS that allowed me route plan efficiently. The radar helped me keep up to date with the storm and allowed me to make educated guesses on which way it may turn.

Without an assistant, it was a little tough, but I could do this. I’d done it a thousand times before. I’d been hunting storms for years.

I rushed through a curtain of rain, and the downpour started. I kicked up my wipers to the highest setting as lightning shot across the sky, the visibility on the road less than ideal. I glanced over at the radar, my eyes widening.

This one was heating up fast.

I slowed as the rain turned harsher, rolling down the empty country road. The storm was moving southeast, which meant I needed to find another road that could pull me closer.

“Come on, come on,” I murmured. “ There it is.”

I spotted a smaller offshoot of a road and took the turn, hydroplaning for a split second before the van righted itself. I barreled down the road, hitting a few spots of mud.

The downside of being out in the middle of nowhere was the rough roads, but that wasn’t going to stop me. This van was built to handle a lot.

Way off in the distance, a break in the clouds gave way to a patch of emerging sun, the sky a hazy purple. If I got lucky, there’d be just enough light to get some good photos.

“Come on, come on,” I said.

My heart was racing. I sped down the road, glancing out the window, back to the radar, then to the GPS.

I was going off instinct at this point. My gut twisted as I took a left down another small road, barreling past fields of corn.

This was going to be a good spot. I slowed and pulled off the side of the road as the rain slowed, the sky rumbling above. Lightning danced, streaking through dark clouds.

I pulled out into the field. The moment I stopped, I got out and opened the side door, rummaging through my bags. I pulled on a bright yellow rain poncho and yanked the hood up, then got out my camera.

When I glanced over my shoulder, I could see the clouds swirling in the distance.

I was going to get lucky.

My veins buzzed with excitement and a bit of fear. There was always danger in this job, but I knew when I needed to get the hell out of dodge.

With my camera set up, I climbed inside and looked at the GPS, mentally making a note of a couple of escape routes.

If the storm came toward me, I’d be able to backtrack the way I’d come.

Or I could take a road that would dart straight in front of it, but if I moved fast enough I’d be out of its path.

Plan in place, I hopped out of the van and waded through the tall grass, looking up at the sky.

It was coming.

Thunder shook the entire world.

I held up my camera, snapping a few shots as the storm formed in the distance, the funnel swirling as it reached for the land. It would be an EF2 at the very least, based on the predictions and the radar, but I was safely far enough that I wasn’t too worried about being in the line of fire.

Rain started up again and pelted the poncho I wore, my camera shuttering as I snapped more photos. The wind whipped around me, smothering the tall grass of the field.

“Wow,” I whispered, watching in awe.

It was a terrible, formidable, awe-inspiring part of nature. It was incredible to be on the ground and see something so powerful and destructive form right before my eyes.

There was beauty in its power, but it carried with it a sadness. I thought about the storm that tore up the small town I’d grown up in. I thought about all of the people whose lives were changed forever because of storms like this.

That’s why I chased them.

Any data I could contribute to the scientists at the organization I worked for would eventually help improve our storm warning systems. It would help people be able to get to safety sooner.

I took more photos and then frowned, my gaze drawn by something else in the sky.

“No way,” I whispered.

Another funnel was forming. My mouth dropped as I kept the shutter going, simultaneously taking video as I watched it form.

Twins. Twin tornadoes.

A shiver rolled up my spine as the clouds dropped rapidly, that funnel forming so fast that every part of my being told me to leave.

I lowered my camera, my eyes widening.

It was going in a different direction than the other.

It was coming straight toward me.

Which meant it was heading for Rainbow Ranch, too.

Adrenaline kicked in and I rushed to the van, slamming the doors shut and tossing my things into the front seat. The air went still—eerie—as I started the van, my heart pounding as the sound, which could only be described as a freight train, started to grow louder.

I slammed my foot on the pedal, peeling out of the field and onto the paved road.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’d memorized the road on the way to this spot, but now racing back, going over eighty in a van like this, sent a streak of worry through me. I glanced in the rearview, seeing the mass of swirling debris and wind chasing me. I had a head start, but I needed to get out of its path.

I needed to get home to Pris and Beau.

I needed to get home to Rainbow Ranch.