Downpour (The Griffith Brothers, #2)

by Maggie C. Gates

Do you know what it sounds like when seventy thousand people fall silent at the same time? I do.

Beep… Beep… Was this what hell was like? Just one annoying beeping sound for all eternity? Fuck me sideways. It was grating.

Huh. I could see the veins behind my eyelids. That was new.

Sixty days of wishing I had died in that arena.

Sleeping was the closest I could get to being dead. Maybe that’s why I craved it so much.

didn’t. What was the point in dissecting the fact that I was quadriplegic. That I was unable to move an inch beyond my neck because I had to ride one more bull, had to claim one more championship? Because I just couldn’t quit while I was ahead.

It was common law that if an animal laid on you, you were to be their bed until they deemed it time to get up.

The guy in the wheelchair was hot. Like panty-dropping hot. Like, melt my clothes off with one glance h-o-t.

His hair was disheveled in a way that screamed, “Hello, sir, she calls me daddy, too.”

I didn’t work for hot men who made my heart skip. I couldn’t do this job with a cardiac condition. Heart skipping had to be a dealbreaker, right?

“I’m Ray.” I gasped. “Oh my god! Your name is Ray? Like a ray of sunshine? I love it!”

The lady at the gas station said it’ll bloom when you meet the love of your life. Isn’t that fun?”

“Fine,” I muttered. Brooke didn’t pay me any mind. Because, of course, she didn’t. Tornadoes don’t care who they bother.

“I found cow treats! I wanna see if he likes them.” This fucking woman and her excitement over cow treats…

was half-tempted to join her on the deck, just so I could stare at those bronze legs. Damn. My dick twitched. That was inconvenient, especially because I was in gym shorts.

“What was your backup plan?” I asked. “You know, after bull riding. I can’t imagine that being something you could do forever.”

“I never had one.”

Dear God. He couldn’t be hot and good with kids. That combination was irresistible.

“Why do you ask so many questions?”

“Because I like you.” His dark brows knitted together. “You shouldn’t.” “I do. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Don’t patronize me, Sunnyside. I thought you were better than that.” “Aww! You think about me?” I giggled. “I’m touched.” “Don’t let your head get big. I think about firing you at least three times a day.”

And fuck me, she was fine as hell. Big blue eyes. Thick curls of brown hair I wanted to dig my hands into. Cherry lips with a line down the middle that made them look like pillows. Legs like a gazelle and a laugh that broke the haze in my mind every time I heard it.

It had been a long time since I’d wanted a woman. It had been even longer since a woman had wanted me.

But I wasn’t scrolling for me. I was scrolling to try to find her.

I didn’t need him to fucking check on her. I would fucking check on her.

A few photos were of her. Those were the prettiest I had ever seen.

I reached up, cupped her chin, and wiped away the tear with my thumb as a low growl slipped from my chest. “Who the fuck did this to you?”

My blood turned molten. If some fucker had touched her, I was going to find some

way to rip his body limb from limb. We had a backhoe and plenty of space out here to hide a corpse where no one would ever find it.

Brooke never woke, and I didn’t sleep. Because for once, I wanted to be awake.

I just wanted to be good at something.

Full time? My bank account would be so freaking happy. And with Ray? I would be with him full time? My ovaries did a little dance.

“You’ll live at Mr. Griffith’s house. Saturday and Sunday are your days off, so feel free to leave if you want. Otherwise, you’ll be expected to be there to assist at all times. Read over the liabilities clause, the code of conduct, and review the compensation breakdown.”

Apart from the fact that he was arguably the hottest man I had ever seen and my boss, I felt safe with him.

On top of the nightstand was a plastic bag of blue and pink Sweet Tarts.

I don’t know what I had been thinking when I requested that Brooke live here full time. Actually, I know exactly what I was thinking. And what I was thinking with.

“That fucking bull didn’t kill me, but you and this car will.”

That old Sunday school saying about “pride comes before a fall” was fucking true.

It was delicious. “It’s fine,” I grumbled. “You like it!”

“Our auras match! This is great. I knew we’d get along.”

This truck cab was my church.

“Do you want to get lunch or something before we go home?” Brooke asked. Hearing Brooke call it home, like it was hers, did something funny to my chest.

The twitch in my dick told me that it was for the best. Because as much as I wanted her, I shouldn’t.

I knew it was a job, but being with Ray didn’t really feel like work.

I hadn’t allowed myself to dwell on why there had been a bag of my favorite candies—in only the colors I liked—waiting for me when I moved in. It was so simple, but it was the sweetest thing anyone had done for me in a long time.

Heat flashed in his irises every time he looked at me.

“I won’t say a word,” I whispered. “Just let me be here for you.”

“No. Leave.”

“If you can get Ray to come to the family dinner tonight, I’ll take you on a trail ride.” “Family dinner?”

“Momma cooks for everyone twice a week. Ray hasn’t sat at the table since his accident. He always refuses.”