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

Chapter 19

19

SAWYER - JUNE, 26, 2004

The sun shines through my bedroom window and I roll over to take in the scene outside. Wrangler and Angel canter across the field, whinnying back and forth with one another. There is nothing like the beauty of this land—well, besides Daisy. I release a relaxed breath, taking in the scene, then reminisce on the events of last night.

Rolling out of bed, a huff escapes me at the effort it takes to move this morning. Everything in me wishes I was waking up next to the girl of my dreams, but something about her is different. I have no desire to ruin whatever we have by sleeping with her the first night we had together. I know most people would think it’s just lust, or that I’m falling too fast, but given my track record for never actually wanting to commit to someone I think it’s safe to assume that this time is different.

Making my way toward the kitchen, the smell of coffee and breakfast permeates the air.

“Good mornin’, sunshine,” Rhett says, pouring what I would assume isn’t his first cup of coffee today.

Taking a seat at the island, I place my hands on the counter and move a hand towel out of the way.

“Where did ya mosey off to last night? We don’t have company, do we?” He leans to the side, pretending to peer around me, with a goofy ass look on his face.

Releasing a soft chuckle, I respond. “No, we don’t.”

“Angel out there has more game than ya.” He chuckles, gesturing toward the horses. “She’s got that horse of yours trottin’ around, showin’ off every chance he gets. I’m sure we got a pen n’ paper here somewhere. Best get out there and take some notes.”

I reach for the towel and toss it at him, but, unsurprisingly, he catches it mid-flight.

“For real though, how’d it go?” The excitement in his question radiates in his tone.

“Really good. I like her.” The confession feels like an understatement, but since I haven’t figured everything out myself it feels weird to say how much I truly like her.

“Well ain’t that some shit? More than just a pretty face and a record deal then, huh? Cuz I ain’t ever heard ya like anyone.” He raises his brows. “So, when ya gonna see her again?”

What he says hits me like a ton of bricks. Never once last night—or even this morning—did my drunk ass think about who she is. I’d be lying to myself if I wasn’t a bit worried about the fact that she isn’t just a girl I like , she’s also my connection to Telluride Records. I try to push aside all the doubts and worries in my mind, not wanting to think about whether moving forward with her is a mistake—though the thought did immediately cross my mind when he just said that. Only minutes ago my heart and head were still on cloud nine from meeting her and I’m not ready to come back to reality yet. That can be tomorrow’s problem.

I hold my breath, readying myself for Rhett’s reaction. “I forgot to get her number,” I admit, following his movement with my eyes.

He stops dead in his tracks, turning to face me. “Ya were with her all damn night and never once did it cross your mind ‘hey, if I wanna see this girl again, I’ll need her number to do it’? Ya really are a dumbshit, ain’t ya?” He jests. “Well, ain’t it lucky ya have me then? Cuz I grabbed her crazy friend’s number last night in case I couldn’t find y’all this mornin’.”

“Hmm, I’m sure that’s all it was,” I joke, and he sends a guilty look.

“Ya ain’t ever listened to that one talk, Bud. She’s wild as hell, and I ain’t even sure it’s in a good way.” A smirk crosses his face. He turns back around toward the stove before tossing an omelet on my plate next to some toast covered in strawberry jam.

“Lucky for us, we don’t need women, Rhett. We’ve got you.”

“Ha, ha. Ya better watch it or you’re goin’ back to cereal for breakfast. Don’t forget I’ve got my fancy ass kitchen upstairs where I could make all these bomb ass meals,” he adds.

I shake my head, considering the awful kitchen setup in the bunkhouse. “Ah, I’m just kidding with you. So anyways, Daisy said she wants to ride Wrangler. Do you mind if one day we take him and Angel for a tour of the ranch?”

“Not a bit.” A grin reappears on his face. “Anyone else gettin’ a ride out of this?” Laughter bursts out of him. I stifle an eye roll and my lips fight to pull into a grin. The funny bastard is far too impressed with his own jokes this morning.

“Just get me her number, dipshit,” I reply with a smirk.

“Sounds good, boss.” He chuckles—most likely still at how funny he thinks he is—and pulls out his phone to text Daisy’s friend for her number.

Per the usual, Rhett’s a fucking life saver.

HEY, IT’S SAWYER. R U FREE NXT WEEKEND?

I click send, and, for once, I don’t second guess myself. What feels like a lifetime goes by—though I know it’s only been a few minutes—and my phone chimes.

WHT DO U HAVE IN MIND?

A LOT ;) BUT WE WILL START WITH ME PICKING U UP. THE REST IS A SECRET.

SOUNDS GOOD, BUT WYD THIS WEEKEND…

I’m eager to text back something witty, but decide that’s wasting time. It’s probably foolish of me to be this excited about seeing her again, but being with Daisy brings me the same sense of elation that I get when I sing. The only difference is the feeling doesn’t just stop like a performance does.

WHT’S UR ADDRESS?

143 CROSS CREEK ROAD

CYA SOON

I snap my phone shut and all but run out the door, waving to Rhett as I pass him practicing some roping.

Once I make it to her street, my nerves start to get the better of me, making my pulse race and my palms sweat. This time there’s no liquid courage to cut out the worry welling in my chest. What if there’s a lull? What if I make an ass of myself and this whole thing is over before it begins? And why the fuck am I so nervous about this at all? At the end of the day, she’s just a girl and this is just a date. I let out a breath, doing my best to calm my over the top nerves.

I reach for my phone to send her a text, anxious that running up to her door may make me look too forward, and honking may make me look like a jerk. Before I can open a message to her, the passenger door swings open—scaring the shit out of me—and I look up to see her beautiful face beaming back at me. A warmth washes over me that only she seems to bring.

“So, where are you taking me today, Mr. Sawyer Mason?” she questions in the sweetest voice.

I focus on her for a moment, deciding that it only feels right to throw caution to the wind and give this everything I’ve got. Leaning across the center console, I grab the side of her neck with my hand, guiding her lips to mine. Our tongues meet, a gentle caress right before we separate, and a smile returns to her face.

“Telling you would only deviate from the excitement, so saddle up, Miss Daisy, you’re in for a treat.”

I have no plan, but she doesn’t need to know that. I had asked about next weekend so I had time to think of a good date, and hadn’t really considered seeing her again this weekend. I drive for a few minutes, my eyes focused on the road, but my mind is working in overdrive. What do people do on dates during the day? Mini golf seems lame and so does going back to the park. I rack my brain for ideas until we pass an ice cream truck, and I notice her stare at it with wonder in her eyes. Does she just love ice cream that much or has she never seen one? Taking a chance that she really likes ice cream, I whip a u-turn and put the car into park.

“First stop,” I say, trying to sound a bit more confident than I am in whatever the fuck I’m doing today.

“Does someone you know live here?” she asks, turning her head toward the house I parked in front of.

“Uh, no.” I grab her hand and lace my fingers in hers. “I said you were in for a treat, that’s the first treat.” I point toward the ice cream truck on the other side of the road and a little squeal rises out of her.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to ask you to stop when we drove past, but I figured you might think it was stupid. I haven’t ever seen one before.” Her fingers squeeze and release in my hand, her excitement not even slightly hidden.

We each land on a soft-serve cone, and, just as I suspected, she chooses something bright and exciting like her personality—lemon—while I get something classic and dependable—chocolate.

Our fingers intertwine once more and we start to walk in the opposite direction of my car.

“So, why chocolate? They had so many flavors I could barely decide, and without hesitation you chose chocolate.”

“I knew I’d like it.” Her question isn’t weird, but sort of funny. I never even considered another flavor once we’d made it up to the window to order. “Why lemon?”

“It sounded fun, but not too out there like guava or pb&j,” she says with a shrug while licking her ice cream. “Why not lemon for you?”

“It sounded like it might taste like a cleaning product.”

She bursts into laughter. “Happy to report it doesn’t.”

“Me too. But now you can see why I stuck to what I know.” I grin and give her a wink, taking a final bite of my ice cream as she does the same.

“Yes, but if you always did that there would be no adventure, and where’s the fun in that?”

I stop dead in my tracks, releasing her hand to turn towards her. “Seems to me the fun’s all right here.” I cup the side of her face and give her a delicate kiss, followed by another, this time with a bit more intensity.

Something about being with Daisy feels lighter than any other relationship I’ve been in—if you could call them that. Most of the girls I’ve dated were so focused on where the relationship was going, rather than letting it organically go anywhere at all. The constant pressure of being someone’s forever without the desire to be, ultimately made me decide it was best to just be casual. But she’s different, she brings joy and zero pressure to every situation thus far, and I know that life isn’t always easy—and that this is early—but it feels like it would be easier with her than without her.