Page 2 of Saving the Rain (Crimson Ridge #4)

At a stolen glance I suppose, objectively, the guy isn’t bad-looking. The lower half of his face is all I catch before my eyes slide lower. Scruffy, worn black jeans, faded along the thighs. Tattoos. Rust red check pattern shirt rolled at the elbows.

His palm is wrapped around a beer bottle, which reveals a map of veins on the back of his hand.

They stand out, prominently highlighted by the warm glow of the fire.

An inked design of a rose covers the skin there, and my breath catches as I take him in.

His hands have got me stumbling, and I don’t know what to do with the sensation.

I’ve never even thought twice about what another man’s hands look like.

Let alone... appreciated the sight of them.

What the fuck? I’m feeling all sorts of prickly and clammy beneath my hoodie. Heat crawls up my neck and makes itself at home on my cheeks.

How can it be that I kiss one guy, one time, in a reckless fucking moment on New Year—which was months ago—and now I’m a jangled-up mess at the first sight of some random cowboy arriving in town?

My legs seem to keep moving of their own accord until I’m close enough now to hear them talking.

Jessie lets out a breathy, flirtatious laugh before the guy speaks again, and I continue on my path, where I’m about to fumble headlong into disrupting their private fucking conversation.

There’s a magnetic pull on my body that I can’t fight, drawing me closer and closer to encroach on the space where they stand.

“...I might not enjoy a crowd, but I know a lot about pleasing an audience.” From the other side of her, the way his focus drags down her body is unmistakable.

“Do you now?” With drink in hand, she holds a straw to her lips and takes a slow sip. Followed by a playful tilt of her head.

I don’t hear what he says in reply—with just a low rumble catching on the night air—but my heart is goddamn pounding for no good reason.

Another laugh comes from Jessie as she turns, all glossy lips and batting lashes, before her dark eyes flick my way. My presence registers, and an unreadable expression slides across her face for the briefest moment.

“Oh, hey, Kayce.” As she takes me in, eyes widening slightly, she smiles. The kind of look that tells me she’s more than pleased to show off the attention given by someone else since I haven’t been reciprocating any of her hints.

And while I’m figuring out what to even say now that I’m standing here, she ducks her head while reaching up to hook a strand of hair behind her ear.

That's the second I get my first proper sighting of the profile of the man at her side—at the same moment he lifts his chin to look toward the bonfire.

I stop dead.

My pulse spasms, heart jumping straight into the back of my throat, before my stomach plunges in the opposite direction and hits my boots.

“What—What the hell?” I croak.

Jessie’s brow pinches together. She looks between me and the man at her shoulder, who I’m struggling to wrap my goddamn mind around seeing in the flesh after all this time.

“Do you guys know each other?” she asks. Hesitation evident in her expression.

“What the hell are you doing in Crimson Ridge?” I straight up ignore the girl between us. Jaw locked up tight, ice seeping into my veins.

His dark gaze meets mine and lingers for a drawn-out, weighted pause before speaking. “Got a job. I work here.” The words prowl forward, languid, and gritty. No greeting. No acknowledgement. But I wouldn’t expect anything less from this asshole.

With an indifferent shrug, his attention tracks up and down my frame. He always was so fucking infuriating with that cold, callous attitude he carries around.

“No. No, you don’t. This isn’t happening.” My teeth grind. “I thought we agreed to stay outta each other’s way.”

“Gladly. Last I checked, this town ain’t yours, snowflake.” Lifting his beer, that motion reveals the slight glimpse of prime intolerable asshole settled on the corner of his lips before he takes a swig from the bottle.

“You can’t be serious.” No . There’s no way this is real.

Another lift of his broad shoulder. “Dunno what you expect me to say. I’m working on one of the local ranches. So, run on back to your buddies.”

I take a step toward him, bristling.

“You’re not coming out here and entering events... you’re... you’re too old.” A protest splutters out of me. My stomach forms a churning mess, thrashing around to the point of seasickness.

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.” He chuckles. “And you know I would still win, too.”

Fuck him. Fuck every single goddamn twist of fate that has brought him back into my life.

“This is bullshit. You could literally go anywhere else. Go base yourself on any other ranch.” My throat struggles to work down a swallow.

“I could, but this little neck of the woods seems kind of sweet.” His gaze slides down to Jessie, while giving her a wink. “I’ll bet I can have Crimson Ridge eating out of the palm of my hand. All it’ll take is a couple of wins, and that’ll be enough.”

“Fuck you. Cut the crap.”

“Besides, you’re almost aged out yourself. Twenty-nine, aren’t you?”

My throat works. “I’m twenty-eight. You know that, dick.”

“ Mmm . So basically washed up.” One of his tattooed hands rakes through his mess of dark curls.

“Screw you.”

“Gonna melt if you stay too close to that fire, snowflake. I’d be careful where you stand.

” His eyes flicker over me once again, leaving my mouth filled with chalk.

“And no, I’m not here to fool around with rodeo.

I’m here for a job, but we both know I could still school your ass anytime I like, without even trying. ”

He leans down to say something in Jessie’s ear, then guides her away by the elbow.

She offers me an apologetic shrug, before the two of them head off in the direction of the grill, leaving me standing, staring out into the darkness of a fall evening.

The kind of night that should be brimming with laughter and celebrating hitting the highs of placing in a competition event.

Instead, I’m numb from head to toe, trying to wrap my brain around what just happened. The gut punch of my past coming back to haunt me in the most unexpected of ways.

The last person I expected to see again.

My goddamn stepbrother.