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

Chapter 20

20

DAISY - JUNE 26, 2004

Our date progresses, not a moment that isn’t fun or easy going, and for some reason that gets me in my head. I shouldn’t be thinking of previous relationships, but life has done nothing but prove to me that it’s filled with let downs. I’m used to the build up, the first moments being wonderful and then the shift in how bored a man becomes being with someone like me. Someone career-driven and still hung up on a loss that I should, as they’ve said, be over .

I do my best to shake this feeling, trying not to sabotage a good thing, but with this thought brings another and another. It’s not like I went into every relationship thinking that it would be awful or end in heartbreak. I assume no one really does, but this time that realization feels so possible—probably thanks to my calloused heart—and I hope that I’m wrong.

I silently ponder my thoughts as we drive out of town and turn down a road with a sign that reads Harper River State Park. After parking in a small lot near the entrance, I consider mentioning that I’m probably not dressed for hiking. Sandals and a mini-skirt aren’t really great for that, but, well, we’re here already and I’d rather do something outdoorsy than be in the city.

“I can’t imagine you’ve been here yet.” Sawyer looks over to me as we round the front of his vehicle, kissing me when he reaches me.

I take his hand in mine, lacing my fingers with his, and choose to ignore my earlier doubts, because for once I just want to be in the moment and not put pressure on what could go wrong.

“Nope, but I love going on walks, so this is right up my alley.” I smile at him, and we head down the closest trail until we meet a fork in the road with a sign that leads two directions. We take the path that reads Hidden Lake, and I wonder how something could be considered hidden if it’s literally labeled.

The further we get down the trail, the more I regret my outfit choice. I’ve been consciously shifting my skirt the entire time, and flip-flops—though cute—are nearly the most impractical footwear for a hike.

We trek down toward an opening in the trees. Sawyer stops just before the clearing and turns to grab my hand, gesturing to be quiet. I comply, lacing my fingers with his as he leads me forward. His eyes meet mine and I try to disguise my worry of this ending with another broken heart, and even more so, ending because of my job—hoping that this is a me thing and that this isn’t all too good to be true.

I look down at my feet, stepping on the scattered rocks that end this trail, and when I glance up, I’m in awe. Placed before us is a small lake, and, nestled off to the far corner in some grass, is a doe and her fawn. He pulls me to a crouching position, and we watch as the mother guides her baby out of the grass and to the water’s edge to get a drink. The sight is breathtaking, and Sawyer squeezes my hand as we both take in the scene. I squeeze back, then turn and kiss him on the cheek as the deer make their way back toward the tall grass and disappear into the woods.

“I can’t believe we just saw that,” I say, returning Sawyer’s gaze as we both rise to a standing position.

“Besides the ranch, this trail is my favorite place. My Pops actually showed me it. I had a school project once where I had to collect a bunch of very specific leaves and seeds. I told him about it when he got me from school that day, and he brought me straight here.”

He surveys the space around us, but my eyes stay locked on him. He seems so genuine in his actions and shares little pieces of himself with me that I feel he wouldn’t share with just anyone on the street.

“After we found about half of the leaves and nuts on the assignment sheet, we went and relaxed under that tree over there.” He gestures towards a large Maple tree. “We chatted about the trees to start, but our conversation quickly shifted to music when my grandpa said that this little lake was a place worth singing about.” His stare returns from the tree back to me, a smile not only on his face, but also in his eyes. An expression that only real love could form.

“I like your grandpa, well, I mean, I think I would have really liked him. His love for music sounds similar to my dad, and the more I’m with you the more I think that. There’s something about you, Sawyer—” I take a breath and bite my lip. “I just, I can’t get you out of my head. It’s like that lake over there, I think you’re something worth singing about.” I release a soft laugh at how silly that sounded out loud, but his smile doesn’t waver, in fact, it only deepens.

He pulls me into him and wraps his arms around my waist, kissing me on top of the head. Releasing me, he guides me toward yet another barely visible trail.

This time, we ascend up a much steeper hill, scattered with disheveled buildings. I watch my feet, taking careful steps so as to not trip. Unfortunately my flip flop gets stuck with my next step. I plummet forward, only to be met with two large arms quite literally catching me before I fall.

“Are you okay?” Concern washes over Sawyer and my heart melts at the same time. I may not have dreamed of fairy tales growing up, but this entire day has felt like one.

“Yes, flip-flops probably weren’t my best guess on footwear for the day.” I let out a laugh, looking down at my foot as I rotate my ankle once, then slide my shoe back on.

“We’re almost to the top, I promise. But, let’s walk a bit slower.” He grabs me and pulls me in closer for a hug, gliding his hand down my curves. My nerves zing to life with the simple touch, making my heart race and making me want him in more ways than one.

We depart and hold hands, strolling up the rest of the way, passing through the overhead brush and beautiful green trees surrounding us. Each step cracking branches beneath us until we reach an opening to a ridge. Displayed before us is another eye-catching view of the lake we were just at, but also something that puzzles me—an old floor made of marble. My brows scrunch together, trying to figure out what exactly I’m looking at.

“What is this place?” I spin toward Sawyer after taking in the view.

“This is my Pop’s love story.” He runs a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. Such a simple gesture, and yet, I think it’s quite easily turning into one of my favorite sights.

“What do you mean by his love story?” I smile, scrunching my nose. This place is nothing more than rubble. A ruin. And yet my curiosity about its past is more than piqued as I survey the space again.

“So, this place used to be called Hidden Lake Resort. Back in the thirties, a family bought this entire property and brought in sand down by the lake. All those buildings we went past used to house the people who came to stay here. Before WWII started, my Pops and his family stayed here, and this is where he met Nan.” Wonder fills his eyes like a child who had seen fireworks for the first time.

He grabs me yet again, leading me away from the lake view and back on to the dance floor. Positioning his hands around my hips after pulling mine around his neck, we start to dance. And instead of bothering to question it, I follow his steps. He slowly moves us around the dance floor and continues his story—part of my earlier hesitation melting away just as my heart melts at the effort he’s gone through for today.

“I never knew Nan. She got into an accident when my mom was little and Pops never spoke about anything besides their love, so I don’t know too much about it. But this is where they met. This very dance floor.” A happy expression permeates his eyes and he continues as we glide seamlessly around the floor. “Pops said he saw her when they were down by the lake. He’d tried all day to get her to notice him. There used to be a slide, apparently, and most of the women stayed down on the beach, relaxing while the kids and men swam or went down the slide. Once he got to the top, he spotted her and claimed that very moment was the moment he fell in love.”

“I thought this was where they fell in love though?” I question.

He laughs. “Yeah, so he spent all afternoon showing off by that lake, and at night, the resort hosted these large dinners filled with music and fancy dining. She’d been standing close to the look out over there.” He removes his hand from my waist, pointing to the spot where we just stood, and I can’t ignore the pang in my chest at the absence of his touch—even if it is for just a moment. “Apparently, he waited for her parents to not be close by because he didn’t want her father to get pissed that some boy was interested in his daughter, especially one he didn’t know. Well, anyways, he waltzed over there the moment he got the chance and, sure enough, he tripped.”

“Stop, he did not trip.”I gasp. That can’t be how the story goes. It just can’t. He has to be playing some game or this has to be a joke or something.

Another chuckle escapes his lips. “Kid you not. So, he falls right in front of this girl and, luckily for him, she sees it and rushes to his aid. He apparently did his best to save face, I guess he was normally way more smooth with the ladies—kinda like Rhett,” he adds with a laugh. “Anyways, he asked her to dance. And apparently Nan said yes.”

He spins me in a circle then pulls me back in again, kissing me with passion this time when our lips meet. Our tongues trace one another’s, and I feel lighter than air, as if the butterflies he gives me might very well make me soar away.

I pull back from him. “That can’t be it, that can’t be the end of the story.”

The grin on his face deepens. “Well, no, that definitely wasn’t the end or I wouldn’t be here.” He chuckles. “So, anyways, they danced and then later that night they snuck out to see one another. He said that night had been the most beautiful night he’d ever seen, but it had nothing to do with the stars.”

“And now I can see exactly how he resembles Rhett.” I scrunch my nose and laugh at the realization. “That is so beautiful. It sounds like they had something really special.”

“Yeah, they had the love that most write about.” Our dance halts and he captures my lips in a kiss once more. “The entire place burned down during the war. Pops said that Nan wrote to him about it, and that the letter had been stained with tears. Once he made it home safe, he brought her back here with his Gibson so he could sing to her, and they danced under the stars.”

I lean into him holding him close, and though this all feels a bit too perfect, I realize Sawyer isn’t showering me with gifts or hiding me from the world like I’m one of his many dirty little secrets, he’s baring his soul and sharing pieces of those he loves. And as that realization settles in my heart, so does the worry that he is too good to be true.

The sun sets as we make our descent back down the trail toward the parking lot.

“Thanks for such a lovely day. I hadn’t expected that we would do all of this.” I gesture into the open space as if that sums up today’s events.

“Well, if you’re ready to go home, I’d be happy to take you, but if you’re up for a little more me-time I have one more stop on the list.” That cute nervous gesture of running his fingers through his hair doesn’t return this time. Something in his expression is a little more confident than all the times before.

“A little more you-time sounds perfect.” We both smile and find our respective seats and I wonder—no hope—that whatever the additional time together brings is a lot more close and personal.

Making our way down the road, we veer onto a two track and into an open field. The sky has since darkened, and the city lights feel forever away. I can hear the sounds of crickets and the wind blowing softly on the tall grass that we’re now parked in. The engine slows to a purr before Sawyer places the stick into park. Looking up at the starry sky, I’m thankful that he doesn’t have the roof on tonight, and I shiver, getting chills at the sight.

“I have a blanket in the back, if you’re cold. I thought we could watch the stars.”

I rise from my seat and climb into the back. A soft chuckle comes from behind me.

“Now, what’s so funny Mr. Mason?” I joke, pretending to be serious.

“Well, I didn’t mean you had to crawl back there to use it.”

“Of course, you didn’t, but how else would we enjoy the stars together?” I nearly whisper the end of my statement, hoping he catches the drift that I want to be as close to him as possible.

He doesn’t hesitate for even a moment, but instead climbs over his center console and sits down directly behind the driver’s seat. Pulling the blanket over my legs, I shift so that my feet face the passenger side of the car and lean back, placing my head in his lap. He tenses for a moment, then relaxes into this position, sharing his space with me.

I lay there silently for a while and look up at the star-painted sky before whispering, “Thank you.”

His hand strokes my hair, and I release a breath that feels like all the weight I’ve ever had to carry has been lifted. I enjoy that feeling, even if it only lasts a minute. Closing my eyes, I take in the sounds of the chirping crickets and owls off in the distance, feeling nothing but peace. I wish I could bottle up this feeling for eternity. Opening my eyes, I find Sawyer staring up at the stars. I shift, and his gaze lowers to me.

“You don’t have to thank me. I haven’t stopped thinking about you from the moment I saw you. I’m not sure I ever will. Something about you is filled with light. I wanted to show you something that brought me light.” He strokes my hair again and looks back up towards the sky.

This time when I shift, I find myself sitting up, my eyelids already fluttering closed in anticipation of the moment when my lips brush his. But they don’t. I still, opening my eyes, trying to gauge his next move. He glides his hand through his hair and I smile, knowing that this isn’t discomfort, but rather his nervous habit. I lift my body partially from the seat and spread my legs over his, straddling him as I wrap one of my arms around his neck.

My skirt makes the closeness of this move rather forward and completely out of my element, but I decide to throw caution to the wind. Taking my other hand and sliding it up his muscular arm, I admire how toned he is and wonder about everything else I can’t see. Once my hand reaches his cheek, I meet his gaze for only a moment before our lips crash into each other. A shiver skitters up my spine as his hands pass over my body.

Goosebumps rise on my skin, not so much from the cold, but rather the sensual touch of his hands as he cups my ass. I lean forward slightly, grinding against him, eliciting a breathy sigh from his lungs. His hand moves down my thighs and then back up again, this time his thumbs trace the soft edge of my underwear as his lips meet my neck.

His lips return to mine, the intensity of our kisses deepening. Each one more aggressive than the last, almost as if we both fear that come tomorrow this could all be over. I can feel the length of him hardening while the gap between us lessens. I give up any remaining space, planting my hips as close to his as I can.

His lips migrate lazily down my neck, biting ever so softly while he trails kisses along my skin—motivating me to reach down for his belt buckle. A devious smile emerges on his lips momentarily, and then he continues down my neck. Each kiss, each caress, each touch is like a brand on my soul. I’ve never felt such want or need until now. He pulls my tank over my head and unclasps my bra in one swift motion.

My nipples harden at the brisk change in temperature. His tongue explores my newly exposed skin. A rumble in his chest releases, his cock hardening even more and the thought of him entering me becomes evermore present. Would he be soft, gentle, as thoughtful with his body as he is with his words? Or would he be fierce and passionate? Maybe both. But as each of his kisses becomes more intentional, I feel my self-control slipping more and more. I want Sawyer, I want him more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.

I bear the weight of my body forward onto my knees, lifting my ass and unbuttoning his pants. He lowers his hands to help, but remains focused on peppering kisses on any part of my skin that he can reach before coming back up for air.

“Are you sure?” he asks, like the gentleman he is, and I nod in a silent response before consuming his lips for another kiss. I’ve never been more sure in my life.

He pushes my skirt upward, and I lower partly back down toward him. His eyes meet mine again the moment his thumbs graze the edge of my panties. Dipping my head in a nod, I grant him permission before kissing his neck. Desire scorches through my veins like a wildfire consuming a mountainside. Destructive and beautiful all at once. I lower my hips, little by little, leading him toward what I crave most. The only thing now separating us is my underwear and whatever hint of self-control is holding him back. Soft moans surface and our tongues dance with one another, painting a picture only meant for us to see. His fingers finally reach the very edge of my underwear and I melt beneath his touch.

Sliding my panties over, he dips a finger inside me, pumping a few times before inserting another. I whimper at his ability to unravel every piece of me, breaking through barriers I never even knew I had. Each pump sends heat spearing through me, turning my nerves into livewires as I burn for him. My head falls back and his mouth dips to my exposed chest, his lips capturing one of my nipples in his mouth. A moan tears from my throat as he teases and taunts me with his tongue and fingers. It’s like kindling to the fire threatening to consume me.

Close. I’m so, so close.

Right there on the edge, my orgasm teetering on a precipice I know I won’t be able to come back from. He pulls his hand back, removing his fingers and I let out another whimper as I feel his absence. I reach for his cock, stroking his length with my hand, wanting—no, needing him inside me. He reaches for his wallet, pulling out a condom before pushing his pants to his knees. I hear the rip of the wrapper, and moments later his hands return to my thighs.

“I want you, Sawyer,” I plead with a fierceness I’ve never known. It should be terrifying, but I find it exhilarating, reckless, and I love it.

He shutters slightly beneath my grasp, bringing a grin to my face while I kiss his neck. I like knowing I have this much of an effect on him. Angling my hips ever so slightly, I bring him toward my entrance.

A husky growl rises in his throat and he whispers, “Yes, Miss Daisy.”

He slides my panties to the side again, pressing the head of his dick to my entrance. He thrusts gently, allowing me time to adjust to him. His sheer size takes my breath away as I rock back and forth on top of him. He kisses me with desire and something more than lust. It’s like he’s desperate for one more taste, one more touch. I feel it too. He’s like a drug I can’t get enough of. The high I feel with his dick inside me shouldn’t be possible. I don’t know him, not enough to feel this way, and yet I do.

“More,” I whisper. I need a ll of him . Everything he’s willing to give.

His breath fans against my neck as he trails a path of kisses up along the curve of my jaw. “You’re a demanding little thing,” he murmurs against my skin, sending a ripple of shivers down my spine that only make my desire burn brighter, hotter.

Before I can respond, he picks up the tempo, and I match him, breath for breath, stroke for stroke, soaring higher, higher, higher toward my climax. If his shallow breathing and grunts of approval are any indicator, I’d say he’s close as well. I cling to him, every movement driving me closer and closer. His gaze locks with mine for a moment before capturing me in a soul-shattering kiss. One that steals the breath from my lungs.

And then I’m falling, crashing, shattering apart on his dick, my orgasm rocking through me so hard I see stars. His hips thrust wildly, his movements purposeful, until a groan escapes him and he falls apart too. For a long, silent moment, we’re helpless but to just sit there, wrapped in each other’s arms, our breathing matching one another’s. And I can’t help but think that after tonight, nothing will ever be the same.