Page 11 of Saving the Rain
“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 mypeace.
Chapter 5
Rapping my knuckles on the wooden doorframe, I hover outside Tessa’s office while she finishes up a phone call. Through the glass of the ranch slider, she gives me a wave and holds up two fingers.Gimme two minutes. Simultaneously, she flashes me one of those endless smiles the woman seems to so generously hand out to anyone she encounters.
From the covered porch outside her office, there’s an uninterrupted panoramic view of the mountains reaching into the sky. All purple-tipped, swirled with mist, and dusted with powdered sugar snowfall along the craggy tops. Carpeting the lower slopes, yellows and bronzes of the season crawl up from ground level. As my eyes drift across the landscape, they reach the spot over in the distance where the copper shard of Crimson Ridge itself climbs above the town, like a blade.
Further along the line of windows and doors of the main house, a group of guests occupy the outdoor furniture as they sit around drinking their afternoon coffee and chatting. Looks like a group of retirees vacationing together. This place is only getting more popular by the minute. It’s no wonder Beau has plans to build additional cabins and extend the facilities to cater to the growing demand.
That’s one of the things I make a mental note of needing to talk tohim about—how many extra horses he’s likely to need by the time next summer rolls around. At present, they have ten quarter horses suitable for taking on treks and letting novice riders loose on the ranch. With how busy the place is getting, it’d be a wise investment to look at adding to the stables sooner rather than later so the animals don’t struggle physically with the workload.
It’s different operating as a rancher, completely in tune with your horse’s needs, rather than being a tourist unfamiliar with animals, merely hopping on for a novelty day trip. Part of what I do is to make sure none of them have picked up injuries that might have gone unnoticed by their rider. The kind that, if left unchecked, can become a massive fucking problem real quick. A stressed horse is the last thing any of us want to be dealing with.
There’s a rolling, stuttered, creaking noise when the door at my back slides open. A gust of warm air hits as Tessa beckons me inside.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. Although, you don’t need to hang about being an awkward duckling. You can just barge in here any time, you know.” Tessa pokes at the shoulder of my jacket and then wanders back over to her desk, leaving me to follow behind.
I linger with one fist wrapped around the handle.
“Oh, god, this again? You and your cowboy manners. Stop worrying about your boots coming inside.” She flaps a wrist at me. “Why do you think I chose the hardwood floor? Get your ass in here and shut that door to keep the heat in.”
Giving her a raised eyebrow, I follow her orders, but even so, double-check to make sure I’m not about to track horse shit in with me. Tessa might be accommodating, but I’m not gonna bethatasshole.
“Got paperwork to add to your collection.” I hand over the stack of invoices and receipts and nod in the direction of the tray stacked with other similar pieces of paper.