Page 55 of Saving the Rain (Crimson Ridge #4)

“ S lutty vampires?” Chaos points between me, Brad, and Flinn as we come up to the bar.

Halloween at The Loaded Hog is in full swing, with nearly everyone wearing some kind of costume. They’ve gone all out on the decor, with pumpkins stacked outside, fake spider webs hanging from almost every surface, and a smoke machine puffing gusts of vapor illuminated by red lighting.

“Slutty eighties vampires... to be precise.” Brad gestures at our outfits, which are a loose collection of leather, chains, and fake earrings.

He leans a forearm on the bar, then pokes at the place where bright crimson spills down Flinn’s chin—the same as we’ve all painted on for tonight.

“Fortunately for your little pork chops, we already stopped for a snack before coming.”

“That hair needs its own postcode.” Chaos snorts at the hairband-worthy long, curled wigs the other two are wearing, then smirks at my spiked-up hair. “Always a pleasure to have the Lost Boys in the house.”

“How the fuck did you stuff Knox into a pig onesie? Did you have to tranquilize him?” Flinn barks out a laugh when the other member of the Chaos Twins makes an appearance carrying stock from the chiller.

He’s in a suit to match, with the hood including floppy ears pulled over his head and everything .

“I’m very charming. Not to mention, I make the cutest piglet you ever did see, huh? Who wouldn’t want to be hog-tied by this tonight?” Of course, he jumps and spins around in order to shake his ass in our direction, wriggling his hips to reveal the sight of his little coiled tail.

“You’re something, all right.” I shake my head at his antics.

“Good to see you in the land of the living... or maybe, non-living tonight.” He winks back at me. “How’s the knee?”

“Strong enough to chase you down and empty out those sweet piggy pig veins of yours, no problem.” With a flash of a smile, I really fucking hope that tonight isn’t gonna be endless questions about topics I’m not yet brave enough to go public about.

Which makes the back of my neck immediately flame underneath the high collar of the jacket I’m wearing, because I haven’t seen the one person I’ve been on high alert for since walking through those doors.

“What’s your choice of poison tonight, bloodsuckers?” Chaos asks, as he slides a tall glass of soda my way. He makes a show of adding a flourish of red syrup to it with a cheeky grin.

Flinn ticks off one finger. “We need something ‘fruity and strong as shit’ for the two fairies. Their words, not mine.”

“They’re witches.” Brad shoves at his shoulder. “And the fact Briar has gone to the effort of all that green face paint, means that I’m sure she’ll kick your ass if she hears you disrespecting her witchy powers.”

“Sorry.” Flinn huffs and rolls his eyes, before ticking off a second finger. “Fruity shit for the pink witch and the green witch.”

Chaos is already starting to mess around with making something, then looks across the room at the bar leaner where Briar and Sky look like they’ve hijacked a pair of flying monkeys for the evening and taken a direct flight straight out of Oz.

“Jesus. You’d have never thought old man Rhodes would put in an appearance at something like this.” He starts shaking up a potent concoction. “What the fuck is he meant to be?”

Brad smiles and steals some candy from the pumpkin bucket set out on the bar. “Angry ice hockey player sent to the penalty box.” As he pulls the wrapper off, he gestures a circle at his face. “Hence the black eye... the permanent scowl is just au naturale . ”

To be fair, Lucas Rhodes dressing up for anything would mean the entire world was probably about to descend into an apocalypse. For him to even set foot in here tonight, speaks volumes to exactly how down bad he is for the woman swathed in pink and glitter tucked at his side.

“And St?rmand Lane mugged a pirate and stole his outfit, I’m assuming?” Chaos grabs Brad and Flinn’s beers when they point out what they’re after.

“Something like that. All I’m hoping is that none of us have to listen to him making dumb jokes about plundering or Briar’s bounty ... ” Brad pinches the bridge of his nose and shudders. “Otherwise, I’ll put out a distress signal for you to shut this place down immediately.”

Chaos shakes his head with a wide grin splitting his face.

“Deal. No one needs to be scarred for life by him going full method acting tonight. This shall remain a horny pirate-free safe haven.” He swirls a finger in the air, encompassing the room.

Then gets called away to serve other customers waiting.

As we carry the drinks over to the bar leaner we’ve settled on for the moment, the two witches have somehow worked their magic and convinced their cowboys to join them out on the dancefloor.

It’s almost a relief, even if temporary, to be able to avoid unwanted conversations.

I’m grateful for Brad, that he’s kept our conversation private.

Even though Flinn is his everything, he hasn’t brought up my revelation about being attracted to men, or being gay, and he’s not pushing me to talk about it either until I’m ready.

That’s just the type of friend he is. I swear, the guy has a sixth sense for knowing what others need.

But the lingering unease still sits there. My knee. My rodeo career. It all resembles a tangled ball of twine coated in spurs, and even though I’m not straight up lying to my friends... am I?

By avoiding telling them any details, does that amount to the same thing?

And right there amongst all of that is the even more precarious truth of how far things have changed between me and Raine.

The fact I’m so swept up in him. Even just the thought of his name and whether I’m going to come face to face with the subject of my ever-increasing adoration curls something low in my stomach.

“Wanna head outside with us for a bit?” Brad leans closer to lift his voice at me over the top of the music.

“Nah, you two go. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on their drinks.

” I shrug the two of them off. As much as Brad and Flinn are always the first to include others—not to mention that Brad is a social fucking butterfly and would probably wither away without having the opportunity to be surrounded by people—they could use some time for themselves.

I tell myself it’s not because I’m on the lookout for Raine.

I try to play it cool, and not feel a certain kind of way that he hasn’t been in contact since leaving Devil’s Peak the other day.

What was I expecting? To have a steady stream of messages from him?

He probably got back to work and had god knows what waiting for him to handle.

Don’t I know it. Ranching equals endless problems. If it’s not the horses, it’s gonna be the damn cows, and where Sunset Skies Ranch is concerned, they’ve got guests to accommodate on top of all that.

So, I sip my drink and lean on my forearms to people-watch.

Definitely not studying every broad-shouldered, tall guy with dark hair and trimmed stubble who might possibly be my stepbrother beneath their costume. I’m absolutely not glancing at hands and forearms to see if I can catch a flash of his tattoos to let me know it's him hidden behind a mask.

Christ, is he even gonna actually come tonight?

The longer I’m here, the less it seems like the type of shit Raine would willingly put up with, not without a good reason to.

Honestly, he’s no different than the likes of Luke and Storm, who would never have been caught dead at a Halloween party in all their years living in Crimson Ridge.

And now here they are, in the middle of a crowded dance floor, with their girls wrapped up tight and hearts in their goddamn eyes.

An unfamiliar feeling stirs deep in my chest, a flicker like a candle that might get snuffed out with one false move. Maybe that’s what I want... or could let myself believe that I deserve?

For too long, I’ve been caught in a place where I didn’t think I could ever truly let anyone in.

Why risk it? Why voluntarily put yourself through heartache when, at the first sight of my painfully cracked edges, they’d want to leave?

Hell, my own flesh and blood didn’t want me around—the one person who was supposed to, but chose a different place to focus her twisted brand of love—so surely no one else could ever find me worthwhile of the effort to keep close.

That’s when I feel the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. It’s incomparable, the knowledge that Raine’s eyes are on me, and it might sound like madness but it’s as if every cell in my body can feel him before I even see him.

Scanning the crowd to take in all the costumes, the flickering lights, and the billowing red smoke weaving around people’s ankles like mischievous ghosts... I don’t find him.

Until I turn toward the furthest corner of the bar.

Our eyes lock, and goosebumps fly. When I finally spot him, the man is enough to make me feel like I could damn near float across the room, drawn to his magnetism rippling through the crowd.

An alluring, hooded stare is accentuated by face paint—giving him darkened black pools around his eye sockets.

It’s a devious look, straight from the underworld, and as I wet my lips, still staring, I notice he’s wearing those faded black jeans that seem custom-fitted to his body, with a black collar shirt.

Holy fuck, he’s hot.

I’ve never been struck immobile, floating in time where the sight of a man has taken my breath away at first glance. I mean, I’ve come to realize I’m finding Raine endlessly attractive, forever being sideswiped by how gorgeous he is. That in itself certainly isn’t a new revelation.

But this?

I’m transfixed. Glued to the spot. Mesmerized at the sight of his frame hugged by all that midnight black and how he looks capable of stopping my heart at will. Simply seizing it from my chest with a single glance.