Page 7 of Saving the Rain (Crimson Ridge #4)

O f all the fucking ranches.

As my shitty luck would have it, Raine works here.

Today can go to hell already, because this was the last thing on my mind coming down from Devil’s Peak.

Promising Beau Heartford I’d always be available to help take guests out for rides when possible clearly wasn’t enough of a good deed.

I’ve gotta tolerate his grouchy ass now, too?

I mean, not that I’ve been able to shrug off how much seeing my stepbrother affected me the other night.

The crappy memories were all waiting to burst forward once that bandage got ripped away without warning.

Now that I’m sober, it’s a hell of a thing to have to confront all of that history unexpectedly.

Right now, I feel like I’m crawling out of my skin as he gives me those judgmental, obsidian eyes. The fucker surveys my presence in silence, seeming to enjoy every second I have to fight to collect myself while rooted to the spot here in front of the barn.

Yeah, I fucking get it. I judge myself for my past and my mistakes, and my shitty decision-making, too.

Except, seeing this prick for the first time in years—for the first time since he left the circuit where we’d been competing against each other on the regular—all it does is provoke me.

His mere presence dumps me back on shaky ground .

It’s bad enough I’m trying to figure out who I am and my sexuality.

As if my world isn’t already kinda flipped upside down, the memory of that night insists on boring into my brain.

The sight of him smacked me sideways, and it’s like my head is still spinning in an effort to recover my senses.

The impact of the blast keeps ringing in my ears, and I feel like a prize idiot stumbling around trying to regather my bearings.

Raine, however, doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the fact we’ve yet again been thrown together without warning.

If anything, there’s a look hidden behind his silence that tells me he’d love any excuse to watch me fail at this, too.

He’s standing there in a forest green flannel that has certainly seen better days, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and jeans wrapped around strong thighs.

A faded cap pulled down over unruly dark locks reveals a few curls poking out at his nape—his hair is longer, wilder than I remember it being.

He shouldn’t have this much power over me. Not now that we’re both adults.

Not after all this time.

Then why am I stuck, boots cemented in place, while the back of my neck glows red hot, and I can’t stop looking at his tattooed forearms?

I spend hours on end with Chaos in the close confines of a truck, driving to and from rodeo events. In all that time I’ve never so much as looked twice at the guy’s arms or hands.

“You both know each other or something?” Chaos asks. One eyebrow lifts, and the expression he slides my way is one of What the hell is wrong with you, Wilder ?

Good fucking question. I don’t know either.

Swallowing to clear my throat of cobwebs, I nod. “Uh. Yeah. This is my stepbrother.”

“Oh, shit... for real?” Chaos’ eyes pinball between the two of us.

“For real,” I grumble and scuff my boot in the gravel before jerking my head in the direction of the horses. We really need to get started on saddling up so that they’re ready in time for this group. “Let’s go and just get on with it, huh. I’m sure Raine’s got plenty to do.”

I know Chaos will be bursting at the seams, ready to put the blow torch on me with questions, but for now I’d rather focus on being busy and doing anything in my power to ignore this entire scenario.

Raine runs his tongue over his front teeth and doesn’t budge. It’s like he’s purposely filling the barn entrance, challenging me to come closer, in some sort of weird game of chicken.

The sound of an incoming call slices the tension rippling across the several feet separating us.

Chaos fishes in a pocket for his phone, takes a glance at the screen before looking over at me.

“Gimme a minute, it’s big bro. Probably with his panties in a wad about something.

” Flourishing an eye roll, he answers at the same time as wandering off inside the barn.

“I know you’re old... but would it kill you to learn to send a text like a normal person instead of calling , asshole?” he grunts into the phone, his voice fading the further he walks away.

Leaving the two of us outside . . . alone.

I glare at Raine’s stupid jaw. The guy has never been clean-shaven in all the time I’ve known him.

My first impression was how he just seemed to be grown already.

He was only a teenager himself, but to my naive eyes seemed like an adult.

Even back then he was the guy with scruffy stubble and ink, who everyone wanted to either be or be with .

He was the scrapper who regularly sported a black eye or a split lip. Forever turning up looking like he’d chosen to waste his nights in a back alley bare-knuckle dust-up.

Now, he’s the thicker set, more heavily tatted version of the stepbrother I was forced to become family with.

Only the faintest hint of a silver strand or two in his stubble gives any real indication that Raine is in his thirties.

He’s got an ageless air about him, like a resident of Neverland, somehow youthful at the same time as being a miserable old fuck.

“How long have you been working here?” My teeth clench.

“Arrived a few weeks ago.” He studies me, and it makes my nape prickle even more with each passing second.

“Planning to stick around?”

That draws a glint in his expression as he lifts his gaze and swings a leisurely look around at the ranch. “Dunno. Maybe? Beau’s got a pretty sweet set up here. ”

God, he’s impossible. It’s like he’s purposely trying to get a rise out of me, and I hate that it’s working.

“Yeah, well, there are plenty of other properties. Other towns.” He could literally be anywhere else in Montana, and I couldn’t care less, but Crimson Ridge is far too small, too cramped with him being here.

He clicks his tongue. “No one else in this place seems to have a problem with me. It’s just you bleating on and on, like a little lost lamb.”

Darting my gaze around, I step closer, and the words tumble out in a hushed protest. I don’t need Chaos, or anyone else hearing this. “You can’t just barge into my life and make friends with all my friends.” I seethe quietly.

“Jealous, are we?” His dark eyes glitter at the sight of how successfully he’s gotten under my skin within a matter of minutes. “Worried I’ll be better at that, too?”

“There are other people... other places... just, leave it alone, Raine.” Adequate words feel out of my reach, which is never the case. I’m usually at ease with anyone or any situation. A people person to my core.

Until this bastard shreds all of that with just one look.

He shrugs. “Hayes seems like a good guy. Buckle winners tend to stick together.”

My fists ball up as I fold my arms across my chest. “Oh, piss off. You’re such an asshole with all that winning bullshit.”

“Just calling it how it is.” Lifting a hand to his jaw, he slides a thumb over his mouth. He’s infuriating. Staring me down like I’ll melt into my boots beneath the combined pressure of his intense scrutiny and crappy attitude.

“Well, how it is ... is that you can go fuck yourself, Raine. Take your stupid goddamn power trip and shove it. This is childish.” I’ve officially lost any sense of which way is up with him.

Right now, it feels like being straight back to a time and place where we shared a bedroom wall.

This is a reminder of the arguments, the doors slamming, and the constant walking on eggshells around my mom.

Was she having a good day? Was she on the up, or coming down?

Would I get the apologies or the yelling for simply breathing wrong?

I’m the trembling middle schooler, and he’s the asshole high school dropout who loved nothing more than to push my buttons because he could.

His lip curls at the corner. “You’re looking a little fried under the collar there, snowflake. Sure you don’t need to run on home? Let the big boys handle things here today.”

“Stop treating me like a little kid.”

Another shrug is all I get. “When you quit bitching like one. Then, I’ll consider it.”

“Jesus. You’re insufferable, you know that?” I lift my hat off my head and stab fingers through my hair.

“Don’t trip over your big words, boy.”

“Does Beau know you’re out here being a prize assjacket?”

“Only for you. Now I know how it gets you all hot and bothered, I’ll save it up especially.” He chuckles, a deep noise that makes my guts do an uncomfortable flop. “Since it looks like we’ll be running into each other more often...”

“Just stop.” I shove my hat back on and level him with a glare. “I’ve got crap to do, and this is stupid.”

“Quit turning up where you’re not wanted.” His dark gaze narrows on mine.

I can’t help the wry laugh that bursts out.

“That’s mighty rich.” I spread my arms and look around at the peaceful ranch and mountains—the sight of golden leaves fluttering on the breeze, a canvas of orange and burnt umber decorating the slopes of the hills and ridges surrounding us—and then turn back to him.

“Coming from the guy who turned up in my town .”

“ Hmmm . Doesn’t it just rub you all kinds of wrong that I’ve been here two minutes and already got myself a nice little warm welcome?” Raine stares at me, and then his tongue runs a slow line across his bottom lip. “She tasted pretty damn sweet too.”

My blood turns white hot, but not with jealousy or any sort of sensation that I would normally expect to feel. No, there’s something else lurking there. I’ll be damned if I acknowledge what those words, uttered in that tone of voice, just elicited as a response in my body.

I can’t tell if he’s fucking with me .

His eyes pin mine, and my stomach does backflips and somersaults.

My mind’s eye fills with sensual, illicit images and flashes.

Glimpses of the veins popping on the back of his hands as they pin hers to the bed.

Snapshots of his lips and stubbled beard grazing her exposed throat.

His hips thrusting, pumping, rolling against her body.

My chest tightens, and I’m struck down, voiceless, like always seems to happen around him.

Screw this guy.

I’m done with this hurricane of bad memories and twisted-up confusion brought about by his arrival. None of this is worth wasting my breath on, and I sure as hell don’t need to spend any more precious time, or energy, engaging with my stepbrother’s taunts.

“Whatever.” This time, I shove my hands in the front pocket of my hoodie and make a definitive move. I grind my teeth, jaw clamped tight as the distance closes between us.

When I get near enough to have to sidestep his broad frame, I catch a sideways glance of him. I can’t help but watch as his tongue pokes against the side of his cheek, indifference in that burnt coal gaze when he casts a sharp glance at my figure from head to toe.

“See you around, snowflake.”

I huff and carry on, pushing past to enter the barn, ignoring the hint of spice and mint and coffee that hits me as we almost jostle elbows.

It’s hard to know how much time has passed since arriving.

Somehow, it feels like I’ve just been trapped in a void outside of time and space for endless minutes.

Yet, in the same breath, it’s also hardly been a flurry of pounding heartbeats—an interaction over and done with as quick as eight seconds in the arena.

Finally disentangling myself from his attention, I step into the barn, gladly swallowed up by the familiarity of the rows of waiting horses, the scent of leather, and the sweetness of hay hanging in the air.

Down the far end of the stalls, I see Chaos already at work carrying a saddle from the tack room, and my feet carry me away from the goddamn headache at my back.

I’ve learned to cope. I’ve managed to turn shit around in my life. This isn’t anything that I need to spend time letting get to me. My stepbrother doesn’t need to churn up brain space, and I definitely need to shake this weirdness that has been lingering since the bonfire.

There was no way to know it was him, so it’s not like I first laid eyes on Raine with any intention to look at him in a certain way. It was a genuine mistake, one I’m gonna put out of my mind from now onward.

Kayce Wilder has turned over a new leaf, which means I’ll be sure as hell to keep my focus lasered in on the important things. Namely, getting my ass on the top of the winning podium at the next event. That’s my goal.

Train hard. Get my head on straight. Win that buckle.

I gotta protect my peace.