Page 80 of Saving the Rain

Seeing him soar on the back of a bronc is one thing—hell, I’m always gonna be right there being the rowdiest goddamn supporter he could ever need—but it doesn’t erase the pang of all I’ve lost. With rodeo now being scrubbed off the chalkboard of my life, it makes it hard to come face to face with evidence that he’s out there in the arena... and I should have been there too.

Pinging him a message—keeping it partly congratulations, but mostly giving him shit, because that’s what we do—that familiar feeling creeps in. The sight of him doing well is a reminder of what life might have been like if I had grown up here. Chaos Hayes has always had the support of his family in doing what he does, even though I know he works impossibly hard to repay them for all they’ve sacrificed to help him get where he is with rodeo.

It still nags. The silent questions.

What if my mom hadn’t taken me away? What if I’d grown up here in Crimson Ridge? What if I wasn’t raised by a parent more interested in a bottle of pills?

But that’s where it skids to a halt in my mind’s eye. There are endless ‘what ifs,’ and dwelling on them isn’t gonna do anything for me.

Also... the part whispering a little louder these days reminds me that if not for being stuck with my mom, I never would have stumbled into Raine’s life.

It’s only natural that thoughts of my childhood, and Mom, bring her recent efforts to get my attention slamming right back into me. As if I’ve summoned her, I’m just about to set my phone aside when an email notification pops up. It’s an old address that I never use, and can’t remember the last time I checked.

My throat tightens seeing her name on my screen. This time, it’simpossible to ignore her pleading, and when I tap to open her message, the words on my screen are largely disjointed and rambling. Sent while she’s high, from the looks of it. And maybe it’s because I’m feeling some kind of way after the events of the past day and night, perhaps it’s because Raine is only a few feet away in the kitchen, or it could just be the fact I want to shut her up for good.

I send her money.

I don’t ask how much, or what she needs it for.

I refuse to be sucked into this latest round of terrible, awful circumstances she’s landed herself in, because she’ll only drag me down with her.

The amount I send should be more than enough to cover the type of debt I know first-hand she’s capable of racking up. The kicker is that it also clears out my savings account in one fell swoop, and that’s like taking a bronc hoof straight to the gut.

But what am I using it for now anyway? Those dollars were savings I’d scraped together to put toward future rodeo events I might need to travel to. Now? That dream has gone up in smoke. So I swallow down the bile and send my mom the money she in no way deserves.

I’m left standing there gnawing the inside of my cheek, with a guilty conscience that wants to take hold. Should I be a better son, go find her, check to see if she’s doing alright? Is transferring her money in a cold, simplistic, transactional nature the best way to handle her addiction?

Fuck. I don’t know, and it’s so hard to think clearly about what might be right for her. Helping my mom doesn’t always equate to a nice, neat, straight-line solution.

“Eat something.” A plate is shoved under my nose, interrupting my daze of worry. My trepidation around how to best manage the woman who, beyond a doubt, is supposed to know how to take care of herself. You know, since she’s an adult and all.

Raine’s tattooed hands deposit the meal on top of a stack of invoices beside my dad’s ancient computer. A breakfast wrap.

I feel like throwing myself into his strong arms, but there’s every chance that might be the final clingy straw that breaks the mystical enchantment holding firm for now. Currently, we’re co-existing in aworld where we spend a night falling into bed together, and he cooks breakfast for us.

“You need to go grocery shopping,” Raine reminds me. “I’m gonna go take care of the cattle; you deal with the horses. I’ll catch up with you at the barn before I have to get going, ok?”

I’m a wide-eyed foal offering a speechless nod of acknowledgment. A wordless agreement to his instruction before he leaves the office as quickly as he entered. He’s so good at just taking charge and doing what needs to be done. That capable nature he wears so effortlessly is something I’m finding myself attracted to more and more the longer we spend time together. A deep, shadowy place inside my heart, a crevice that hasn’t ever seen the light of day, sends up another little whisper. The sort of barely-there, ethereal, crystalline shell of an idea. Delicate and fragile and forever terrified of being destroyed.

Trust him. Let him take care of you.

Even though Icould easily get lost in the routine of daily tasks that need to be done with the horses, I’ve got one ear out for when Raine will make his appearance.

I’ve lined myself up a nice little row of poor decisions in my life—and while asking my stepbrother to have sex with me doesn’t exactly feel like it should be labeled as such—I’m also chewing the inside of my cheek, unsure if he feels like it might be the worst mistake of his life.

Winnie gives me a nudge, to remind me that I shouldn’t be slacking on paying her attention. Dropping my forehead against hers, I scratch a little harder up the side of her neck.

While he and I haven’t exactly had a lengthytalkabout any of this, I also can’t exactly blame us for not plunging head-first into treacherous waters whereconversationsare concerned.

I’m too new to any of this, fumbling around while discovering what constitutes my sexuality. And Raine, well, he’s just the type of man who isn’t gonna be forthcoming with words on the best of days.

So, I focus on stupid little things like mucking stalls, cleaning water buckets, and restocking horse feed.

Because that’s evidently all I can control. Who am I kidding... there is no scenario in which my stepbrother would leap enthusiastically into a heart-to-heart about feelings and the complexities of two cowboys suddenly finding out they fit really, really well together—especially where orgasms are concerned.

Pretty sure he’d sprint for the nearest airport within seconds if I tried to put a label on this. And maybe that’s all I need right now... to stay in the bounds ofthe undefined. Perhaps being ok with enjoying hot as fuck sex, without the complications of a title or established boundaries regarding arelationship,is what I need. To keep it casual in order to figure out who I am in the wreckage of my former life as the smartass screw-up and bareback bronc rider.

Except as soon as I even think about my connection with Raine being nothing but meaningless fucking, my nose scrunches up.