Page 1 of Saving the Rain
Chapter 1
“Goddamn. That ass was sculpted to wear a pair of wranglers.”
Tipping my gaze up, I’m met with the sight of uninhibited, glinting green mischief radiating from the eyes of the cowboy sitting opposite me. One of my closest friends who loves nothing better than to live up to his name—ChaosHayes.
He blows out a low whistle then jerks his chin toward a group of other ranch hands, cowboys, and cowgirls hanging out across the other side of tonight’s bonfire. Orange flames dance high into the crisp evening sky, keeping time with the music running low and relaxing through the stereo set up on the porch at our backs.
“Who are you perving at, so I can at least get a chance to warn them,” Brad groans as he nears our table. “I really needed to add a warning when I put out the invite. Should’ve told everyone to bring a squirt bottle, knowing you’d be extra frisky after a win like that.” As always, our host for tonight’s post-rodeo BBQ at Rhodes Ranch is taking stellar care of us all, in the form of a mounded pile of food fresh off the grill delivered right to the table.
“Fuck yes. Thanks, babe.” His boyfriend, Flinn, who is built like a linebacker but kinda looks like a nerd with his glasses, pounces on the food. “It’s that new dude. Pretty sure he’s just arrived and is workingone of the local ranches. He’s gonna eat up every guyandgirl in this place.” Reaching forward to help himself, he waves one hand, gesturing vaguely in the direction of whoever it is they’re all drooling over.
I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “Trust you, Chaos. Eyeing up the fresh meat before you’ve even been back in Crimson Ridge for five minutes.” We rolled through the main street of this sleepy little place we call home among the mountains at stupid o’clock this morning. After driving what felt like a thousand hours to get back from the latest stop on the rodeo circuit, my eyes were scratchy as fuck and damn near falling out of my head for those final miles.
All I’ve done since getting home is shower, pass out face down, then roll out my screaming muscles when I finally woke up this afternoon. My last ride was a bastard of a bronc who put me through my paces, thrashing me hard, but the horse scored highly because of it. I walked away with a good enough total to place second overall. Chaos took out the top spot in our bareback division. The smug fuck is still riding the high of his win.
As he should be.
I’m damn proud of him, but even still, it’s always the goal to come first. No matter how graciously defeat might be accepted, the motivation to win a buckle pumps hot through your veins as a rough stock rider.If only I’d scored a few points higher.All that time driving gave me plenty of opportunity to stew on the tiny details of my ride—my form, the way the horse bucked—anything which might have made all the difference.
Lucky me. Take out second place, and I get to come home to a cold bed and a spine that feels like it’s been greeted with a sledgehammer.
Oh, the glamor of pro rodeo behind the scenes.
Brad elbows my ribs, getting me to shuffle sideways and make more room at the outdoor table we’re seated around. He huffs at Chaos, before wedging himself onto the bench seat at my side. “Didn’t your dick get enough attention after that win, superstar? Christ. Who are you eyefucking now?”
Chaos flashes a wide, shit-eating grin. Giving off wave after wave of irredeemable asshole energy that acts as both a pussyandcockmagnet wherever he goes. “What can I say? Us Hayes’ have healthy appetites to keep satisfied.” He chomps a large bite of steak, before swiping at the sauce running down his chin with a thumb.
Flinn waves his half-eaten burger in the direction of the fire, but all I can see are the climbing flames and shadowy outlines of individuals from where I’m sitting. “Over there in the red flannel. He’s got that look about him. You know, the one that says he’s bad for your health, and your heart.”
As they keep talking about whoever this guy is, that uncomfortable sensation keeps creeping up on me. The one slinking into my awareness far too easily. Weaving around all my organs, it settles somewhere deep inside my stomach. An almost weightless sensation. An awkward feeling as if I’m quietly unspooling. The unsettling knowledge that I’m hiding a massive fucking secret from my closest friends.
I’ve hidden away the kind of revelation about myself that leaves me feeling as fluttery and nervous as a naive schoolgirl about to go to her first prom. Not at all like I’m in my late twenties, compete on a pro rodeo circuit, and have had more sexual encounters than I can count.
It’s when they’re talking aboutthis—about hot guys—that I turn into a flushed-cheeked, tongue-tied disaster that I gotta do my best to hide.
My friends don’t know what I did one night, when I was here for New Year’s Eve, while hidden away in the garage. I never told them, not because any of them would treat me any differently... I guess, mainly because I don’t understand my goddamn self anymore after that urge hit me outta the blue.
Turns out, getting myself sober in recent years lifted the haze on more things than just pulling my shit together and dragging my ass back in the arena in search of sponsors prepared to back my rodeo career.
“Anyone want another drink?” My knee bounces, and even though I was hungry earlier, now I’m not even interested in finishing my food. Any excuse to walk off this uneasy feeling will do at this stage. “I’m grabbing a soda. Who else wants something?”
“I’ll take one.” Brad looks my way, then squints thoughtfully. “Pretty sure we’re all out of what I had stocked in the kitchen. Everything is in the cooler over there.”
Great. I follow his line of sight, my eyes tracking in the direction of this mysterious hot guy. Of course, that’s where the drinks are.
“Go chat to what’s-her-name while you’re there, Wilder,” Chaos says through a mouth full of food while giving me a wink. “Pretty sure she was hanging on your every word and move this week.”
I know exactly who he’s talking about. Jessie is one of the barrel racers who trains with us at Rhodes Ranch. She’s cute and sweet, and at one point in time, I for sure would have flashed a smile her way in return. But now? I’m just all sorts of fucking flipped inside out.
Well, one thing I do know for certain is that I’m not worth anyone’s time. They might think they’re interested in Kayce Wilder, the cowboy package who looks the part to the rest of the world on the outside. Only, once they see the damage beneath the surface, they run a mile.
“C’mon man, you’ve gotta get back in the saddle. It’s been ages since that disaster with the crazy pregnant bimbo. You can’t let that overshadow your life.”
There’s nothing more to be done other than give Chaos my middle finger and let him think I’m taking him up on that challenge. Because, on one hand, he’s right, but on the other, he’s way off base with what he thinks he knows about me.
Hell, I don’t even know about me.
“Game on, fuck face.” I click my tongue at him.