Page 2 of Saving the Rain
If I don’t at leastpretendto be interested and go over there, talk to her for a few minutes... well, that potentially raises too many questions. The kind I have no interest in digging into right now.
If I stroll across to where Jessie’s hanging out and put up with a bit of small talk, even if it’s with the intention of taking it nowhere, at least it’s an easy route to keeping everyone’s noses out of my business.
I’ve spent years running from my own demons, and while it used to be much more convenient to do so while shitfaced, this is just one more night among hundreds of nights when I slap on a mask and be the good-time guy. Only problem is, doing it sober takes a hell of a lotmore effort. It’s exhausting being a former fuck up who’s trying to sort his life out.
One day, and one conversation, at a time, I guess.
As I cross to the other side of the fire, weaving my way through the small crowd who have turned up for tonight’s gathering, I nod at the familiar faces and say brief hellos as I go past. It’s mostly ranchers, rodeo folks, and locals who have horses stabled here.
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I cast a quick glance at Jessie, taking in the sight of her from the side. I’m trying to figure out why I’ve never felt more attracted to her when she’s literally a cowgirl-doll. Blonde hair. Petite. Cute style. Half the guys in Crimson Ridge have tried to get her number, I’m sure.
What I do realize, all a little too late, is that the group she had been surrounded by before seem to have all disappeared in the time it’s taken me to circle the bonfire. Now that I’m a few paces away, I see there’s only one guy standing to her side, covered in deeper shadow. Jessie has her head tilted back, smiling up at the spot where he towers over her, and as I get closer, my eyes are drawn tohimmore so than her.
I mean, I’m curious who she’s so avidly talking to. I’m intrigued after hearing what was being said about this guy in amoth-drawn-to-flame-about-to-burn-its-wings-offkind of way.
Swallowing heavily, my eyes race about, trying to capture a quick glimpse without making it seem as though I’m outright staring. That would be hella fucking weird. To make matters worse, I’m about two seconds from crashing their intimate little moment for two, surrounded by a cloak of dark and orange firelight licking their skin. Jesus, this is already feeling like a goddamn disaster, and I’m cursing myself silently. Not only for leaping up to avoid my own bullshit, but also for snapping at Chaos’ bait to come over here.
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, prominentlyhighlighted 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...appreciatedthe 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 goddamnpoundingfor 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 standinghere, 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.