Page 39 of She's My Kind Of Rain

“I checked the weather channel, I swear it said no rain.” I glide my hand through my hair, looking up at the sky and then around toward the horses still happily roped up around the tree.

“That’s alright, it’ll probably just sprinkle and be over within a few minutes,” she says, unfazed by the shift in our day.

We both get up, gathering the stuff around us, and shove it into the picnic basket. I grab the basket and guitar, thankful that it isn’t Pops given the untimely weather.

We make our way towards the horses. The rain starts to pour down on us, and my first thought is to run, but she doesn’t. She smiles that bright beautiful smile and spins in a circle, raising both hands up to catch any drop in her palms’ path. The most gleeful laugh escapes her lips as she throws her head back to embrace this moment. She makes even the sulkiest of weather feel desirable. She stops for a moment, as she notices me admiring her.

My eyes return to hers, and in that moment, standing there watching her, I find a feeling that even a thousand songs could never sum up. Something about this girl has stolen my heart.

She’s my kind of rain.

26

DAISY- JULY 3, 2004

Rain isthe most underrated weather, every drop more exciting than the last. It is the end of a heat wave, the promise of new life, and a beautiful song sent straight from the sky. It’s like confetti falling in a celebration that I feel lucky to be a part of, and though not everyone sees its beauty, everyone sees the beauty it leaves behind.

I spin around, dancing in the rain, enjoying every little moment life has given me and doing my best to take in everything that life has to offer. I slow to a stop, noticing Sawyer watch me. The look in his eyes reminds me of the look my dad always gave my mom, and my heart warms at the idea that even if just for a moment, he could see me with that same kind of love.

I bite my lip before the corners turn up into a sultry grin. Crooking a finger in his direction, I ask, “Well, Cowboy, are you just going to stand there or are you going to kiss me?”

He doesn’t respond, but instead drops the stuff in his hands and closes the distance between us. Kissing me like we’re in a movie, passion and lust filling the space around us. The rain continues to come down, but we both are truly unbothered, and my heart warms in response. He sees life parallel to me and I don’t know where our love story started, I just know it’s here.

The moment we break away from one another, the sky begins to clear and everything around us seems to restore itself to how it had been prior to the rain. The birds chirp, the sun is out, and the horses patiently wait right where we left them.

We make our way over to the tree, when something sharp jabs into my foot. I lean my back against the trunk, pulling off my boot, and out tumbles a small rock. I place the boot back on the ground and I slide my foot back in. I stand up, and in the same fluid motion, Sawyer places a hand on the trunk next to my head and grabs my face to consume me in a kiss. This time, the kiss feels different. More gentle and endearing, more…loving? Which is crazy, because you can’t just fall in love in a week, can you? But there’s no doubt about it, this time just feels like there is a shift. Something deeper. And I’m eager to find out what.

How can a place I have only been just this once feel like I belong here? I find myself at the mantle touching photos of Sawyer’s family as he’s off finding me something dry to wear. An old black and white photo catches my eye. I know the place in the picture the moment I see it, but putting faces to a beautiful love story warms my heart. There on the dance floor of Hidden Lake, is Pops and Nan, young and in love, dancing in the very same spot that Sawyer danced with me.

I have never met someone whose family was created on such similar values in love and music, but I can tell without even knowing Pops that Sawyer is a direct reflection of him. Kind and wonderful with a heart of gold. The kind of heart they don’t give away to just anyone, and even though Sawyer hasn’t said it, I feel like he has opened his heart up to me.

I had planned on telling him right away about the issue we’re approaching with HR, but something is pushing me to hold off, and I know that something is the fear that this could end and the fact that I really don’t want it to. Is it selfish that I want both—him and my job?

Later. We’ll deal with this later.

Shaking my head, I bring my focus back to the beauty of the photos and say a silent message to his grandpa.

Thanks for helping raise such a wonderful man.

Just as I finish walking down the line of displayed photos, Sawyer walks out from the hallway with clothes in hand and only a pair of boxers on.

He raises his brow and smirks at me. “Everything I own is quite literally the opposite of what you showed up in.” A gentle laugh escapes him. “But, I grabbed you one of my t-shirts and a pair of boxers.” He looks slightly embarrassed, like he isn’t entirely sure this is the type of outfit he should be handing over, but that look makes me like him even more. He could have handed me a paper bag and I would have still taken it happily.

“Thanks,” I respond, blushing, because I get the feeling this is not the norm for him, but even more so because I’m excited to wear something that belongs to him, I’m just too embarrassed to admit it.

I slip my boots off first and then my shorts, noting that Sawyer is happily taking in the show. The thrill I feel from his green gaze locked on me fills me with confidence, and suddenly any thought of jobs or nerves or embarrassment wash away,until all that’s left is the desire thrumming through my veins. I wink at him and then remove my shirt. Instead of reaching for his clothes, I drop my panties and then remove my bra. Closing the gap between us, I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him softly on the lips. I give him a sly look and then head past him, toward what I assume is his bedroom.

Once I enter the room, I’m met with slight shock. It’s tidy, just like the rest of the house, but it’s also grand. There are double doors leading out to a small porch, more large windows letting in not only natural light, but also the most amazing view of the ranch, and the coziest looking bedding I’ve ever seen. I quickly place myself on the bed—that is wrapped in a handmade quilt covered in a green and blue paisley print—and no sooner do I rest my head on my hand do I see Sawyer walking through the door.

“Now this is a picture I’d like to get used to.” The grin on his face makes him even more attractive, and I can’t help but feel like he sees me as more than just what we’re doing.

He wastes no time, removing his boxers and making his way towards me. We lie side by side, our mouths crashing into one another with radiant passion. Each kiss more intense than the last. Reaching my hand down, I stroke his length, eager to have him enter me again, but wanting this to last.

Rolling onto his back, he pulls me atop of him and I inch my way down his body, kissing him as I go. My tongue caresses every inch of him and stops once I reach his thighs. I take his cock in my mouth and work my tongue in fluid motions around the tip, making my need for him grow with every passing second.

“You take my cock so well,” he murmurs out, his hips thrusting in a fluid motion with my mouth.

A hum of approval escapes me, my body warming with his praise. I’ve never been one to be so eager for intimacy, but something about Sawyer is like a drug. I can’t get enough of him.

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