She’s My Kind Of Rain (Rawlings Ranch #1)

Chapter 16

16

SAWYER - JUNE 25, 2004

“Call me a creature of habit or call me whatever you want, but Opeachies is the most chaotic mess I’ve ever had the disservice of seeing and I’d like to avoid it if at all possible, Rhett,” I suggest, approaching the rowdy bar that most newly twenty-one year olds would probably find to be a good time. The music is at a level that surpasses enjoyable and the crowd would rather get crunk —whatever the fuck that is—than enjoy the talent right in front of them.

“I’m not lookin’ to get wasted, so no Opeachies for us.” He jokingly salutes and walks past the bar’s line. “So, where to? How about The Westmore? We can let good ol’ Nanc know what she’s been missin’, and in the spirit of havin’ a good time, we can make her dreams come true and have them Bushwackers she’ was peddlin’.”

I laugh. Only Rhett would find that to be any different than what we usually do, but in good spirits, I, too, find that to be much more exciting than going to a bar I can’t even move in.

We head toward The Westmore and find ourselves at the same seats we always choose at the bar—maybe I’m not the only one whose habits are hard to break.

Near the other end, Nancy spots us and holds her hand up to gesture she will be a minute. We both take a seat, and Rhett spins his stool around, surveying the crowd like he’s looking for something or someone.

“Alright, what little scheme do you have going tonight, Rhett?” He ignores me for a moment, squinting as he peers around the room, seemingly looking for something or someone.

“Another one of those right place, right time moments. That’s what I’m lookin’ for.” He chuckles and turns his stool back around. “I saw Miss Holloway today and told her if she was out tonight to find us.”

“Rhett, do you have a crush on this rep?” I jokingly accuse. Though, frankly, I’m a bit curious.

“Nope, not in the slightest. She’s a bit too much sunshine for this cowboy. I ain’t lookin’ for a woman. Well, I was just now lookin’ for a woman, but not to tie me down.” He releases a soft laugh. “Just wanted to see if she was here so y’all could officially meet, and as your self-appointed manager, I gotta make sure she ain’t givin’ ya a shit deal,” he jokes.

“Sounds like you had the chance to talk business while you were picking up your daily gallon of coffee this morning.”

“Can’t talk business without the client.” A grin appears on his face, and only grows once he sees Nancy approaching. “Nanc, ya wonderful woman. Boy, do I got news for ya.”

“Oh, sweetie, ya always got somethin’ to say.” She returns his joking manner. “What have ya lovely boys been up to? Haven’t seen y’all in a bit. I was hopin’ to see y’all last weekend. I have a little gift.”

“Sawyer, here—” He pats my shoulder “—just got himself an interview with Telluride Records, and now we get a gift from ya? I think, hell, I know , we’ve hit the jackpot.”

“Sawyer, hon, that is the most fabulous news, congratulations! I don’t know that my gift will compare, but here y’all go.”

She hands me what’s got to be the fanciest envelope ever made—shiny gold with a western filigree imprinted on its surface. My name is written in raised black ink, and the envelope itself is sealed with a wax stamp of The Westmore’s emblem—a large cursive W with a simple circle rope border. Inside is a letter invitation—the very invitation I’ve been dreaming of getting. Shock ripples through me as I run my fingers over its surface. My mouth opens, then closes once more, but no words come out. How is this even possible?

“Is that what I fuckin’ think it is? Nancy ya done gone and found a way for Sawyer to get on that stage now, didn’t ya?”

“Oh, hon, I told ya I had no say on that.” A mischievous grin appears on her lips. “Now what do y’all say we get ya a celebratory drink?”

“Nancy,” I say with a huge grin plastered on my face. “We will take two of your finest Bushwackers.”

“Now, ya just wait here one moment, are ya tellin’ me y’all have finally caved and are gonna try the best drink of your life? Once y’all become addicted, ya better take note that these babies are one drink, two drink, three drink, floor.” She giggles, proud of her little joke. “I’ll be back soon.”

I’m not sure if minutes or hours pass once we down our first two Bushwackers. Nancy was not joking about their effect, and I will take it to my grave if anyone asks how we got drunk so quickly.

“Nanc, we will take one more round of your magnificent Bushwackers. ” The last two words from Rhett’s mouth stumble out. “And this time really perdy them up. Whipped cream and a cherry on top. Pretty pleaasssee, ” he draws out, slightly slurring his words .

“Comin’ right up.”

And as she strolls down the line, I notice this time she makes them with less alcohol—something I’m grateful for in case we do, in-fact, see anyone noteworthy tonight—especially since she wasn’t kidding, they’re delicious… and dangerous .

Once our third set of Bushwackers hit the counter, Rhett is eager to hit the dance floor. Something about being two sheets to the wind always brings out the frisky side of my best friend, and that’s saying something since he’s frisky by nature.

He saunters off to line dance with the rest of the crowd, not caring about how he looks, just having the time of his life. He’s the true meaning of dance like no one’s watching . The goofy fuck knows how to do everything. I shift in my stool and swivel it back toward the counter, and there she is—the girl with the raven hair.

Suddenly I feel stone cold sober. I don’t know if I should approach her or leave her alone, second guessing myself and whether she would even want to meet me. I turn back again toward Rhett, still having the time of his life, and decide I might as well shoot my shot. Once more I revolve toward the girl I haven’t stopped thinking about since the moment I saw her…but she’s gone.

What the fuck.

It’s as if the world is playing a cruel joke on me. I huff in disbelief. How can it be that every time I try to approach her, she winds up disappearing? Did I even see her or am I just that hammered? I finish revolving in the chair, frowning as I try to enjoy my girly ass drink. Maybe it’s a blessing she didn’t see me with not only one, but two of these sitting in front of me.

“Well, that is not what I expected to be your drink of choice,” says a soft voice that seems familiar.

I look to my left and there she is. Her radiant blue eyes peering back at me from only inches away. A perfect smile is written on her face and imprinted on my soul—every bit of her radiating warmth.

“Do I know you?” I respond, trying to sound smooth, but there’s no doubt about it, I sound like a total dipshit.

Fuck.

She reaches out a hand. “Hi, Mr. Mason, I’m Daisy Holloway.”

I must be hammered. She’s the rep?

“You can call me Sawyer, Miss Daisy,” I say, trying not to sound surprised. So, the girl of my dreams and the rep are the same girl. What are the odds of that?

“Sawyer it is,” her lips pull up into another bright beautiful smile.

I take in her features now that I’m close enough to see every detail. Her skin has a radiant glow, but still much lighter in complexion than most. Freckles sprinkle her face, something my Pops always referred to as angel kisses. For some reason that thought alone pulls at my heartstrings. Her lips are full, and her hair is as dark as night, with bangs framing her face. I would be lying if I said I didn’t notice her slightly exposing top, but regardless of what she’s wearing, she’s undoubtedly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

I rub the back of my neck, nervous that I might mess shit up now that she’s standing right in front of me, when her eyes spot the gold envelope sitting next to my drink.

“Fancy drinks and even fancier…mail?” She scrunches her eyebrows and laughs the sweetest laugh.

She too might have had a drink or two tonight.

“Oh, yeah, it’s actually something really cool.” I can’t quite act like it’s nothing, and something about her makes me want to share the excitement. “It’s an invitation to play here on stage. Clearly, I’m having one hell of a good month.” I chuckle, embarrassed slightly by how easy that realization flowed out of me, but mostly because I know I was including meeting her in the list of good things that have happened.

Her eyes fill with joy—almost like someone who has known you their whole life when they are proud of something you achieved. My heart warms, or maybe it’s my remaining buzz, but I don’t care one way or another.

“That’s fantastic, Sawyer, you truly deserve a spot on that stage and many more just as grand, if not grander.”

I begin to speak, but stop the moment I notice Rhett and a girl he seems to be bickering with approaching. He doesn’t pay me any attention, but instead walks right past me before grabbing his drink and taking a long swig. With mischief in his gaze, he saunters over and plants himself between Daisy and, who I assume is, her friend. Raising his glass in silent cheers, he takes a sip and says, “I see you’ve met Miss Daisy.”

He grins ear-to-ear, that same shit-eating look he wears when he’s being a smart ass or discovered something before someone else.

It just now clicks that he knew Daisy had to have been the girl I’d seen and wondered about, and he’d made it a point to try and get her here tonight just for me.

At this point, I owe the man my life.

Rhett opens his mouth to speak, stopping once someone in the crowd slams into him, spilling his drink all over the front of Daisy.

“Ahh, shit. I’m sorry Daisy,” he slurs out.

She looks from him to me and then to her friend, disbelief in her stare. A pleasant, “e xcuse me a moment,” crosses her lips, and she scurries away.

Her friend begins to speak, “I’ll be right…”

And I don’t know if it’s the alcohol doing the thinking, or what it is, but I don’t even wait for her to finish, I just leave to rush after Daisy.

The bathrooms in The Westmore are down a lowly lit hallway. Two separate community style bathrooms lining each side of the narrow alley with their perspective In and Out doors, forming a U-shaped layout on the other side of the wall. Without thinking, I barge into the women’s restroom, lucky to only find Daisy there at the sink, small tears forming in her eyes as she tries her best to get the drink stain out of her top.

“What are you doing here?” Shock replaces the sad look she had just been sporting.

“Honestly, I didn’t think this through,” I admit. I hadn’t even thought of how this might come off a bit odd. “I just wanted to help.” I let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Yeah, I don’t even know how I planned to do that. I’m sorry, Nancy clearly amped up my girly ass drinks.”

I turn to leave, but a hint of happiness returns to her face while a single tear slowly begins to drift down her cheek. As her eyes lure me in, I find myself by her side a moment later, raising my hand to brush the tear away with my thumb. She takes a step closer to me, closing the remaining distance between us, her knee brushing against my leg and bites her lip. In an instant, my lips crash into hers, unable to deny the magnetic pull she has on me. Everything about her calls to my every desire. I find myself helpless, but I want to get lost in her. I need to get lost in her. I pull away, worried I’ve made a grave mistake, but I’m quickly reassured when she kisses me back with just as much force.

Our tongues intertwine, tangling into a dance that feels so natural, so perfect. My right hand remains on her face, and I bring my left hand to the curve of her spine, following the shape of her ass as I firmly grasp it in my hand. She inches forward, rubbing her body against mine while wrapping her arms around my waist. I melt beneath her touch, no longer able to think straight.

My hand glides up her face and I run my fingers through her silky black hair. The intensity of my desire becomes unbearable, and I change course, removing my lips from hers as I begin to kiss down her neck. The sweet smell of her perfume—orange and vanilla—now envelopes my senses. Temptation to undress her becomes more and more evident with every stroke of her hands as she lightly claws my back.

The door swings open and we both stop in our tracks. It’s like a bucket of water has been thrown on us. What possessed me to do that? Not that I hadn’t wanted to. Even now, I still want to. I glance at her wondering if she’s feeling the same or if she’s come back down to reality and regrets the last few moments. Her face flushes with embarrassment and the stranger looks as though she’s just caught us naked. We pull apart and Daisy grabs my hand, leading me out of the bathroom and away from the woman’s stare. A soft laugh escapes her lips and I have no idea where this is headed, but I’m sure hoping to find out.