Saving Rain(52)

I remembered what Noah had said. That his dad would get mad when Ray refused to go to her bedroom with him.

I'm going to throw up.

She shook her head. “I wouldn't let him. That's why he got mad, and I told Noah to sit outside.”

“Okay.” God, no, it wasn't okay. But at least she'd fought him off. Not without paying a price, but … she'd fought him off.

I struggled to steady my breath and heart as I said, “You won't see him again.”

Ray gawked at the demand, as if I had some nerve. “Soldier, I can't just … keep his son from him. H-how am I supposed to explain that to him?”

“You won't have to,” I said, my fists clenching and unclenching. “If I see his big fucking truck roll up again, he'll deal with me.”

“No!” she shouted, and that reaction startled me to narrow suspicious eyes at her. “No. Let me handle it. Please. I'll tell him I'm done with this shit and that I'll get a restraining order if he ever comes near us again. Just let me try.”

Intuition told me not to agree, and it had nothing to do with not trusting her to try. No, what I didn't trust was Seth and his willingness to comply. The guy had been violating her for years. He had been acting out in violence for years. What the hell did she think was going to be different now?

But still, she was a grown woman, and I had to respect that.

“Fine.” I relented hesitantly. “When will you see him again?”

Ray shrugged and wrapped her arms around her middle. “I never know. He comes around when he wants to. Sometimes, months go by before he shows his face, and other times, only days. It really depends, I guess, on what else he has going on.”

My jaw clenched as the gears in my head squealed to life. What else did he have going on? This was Seth we were talking about, and I didn't know much about him, other than that he was Levi’s buddy and what Ray had just told me.

“What does he do for a living?” I asked a little absentmindedly.

Ray's brow creased with uncertainty. “I … don't really know the details, to be honest. He doesn't tell me much. Just that he has to go on the road sometimes and …” She lifted her hands, then dropped them helplessly. “I really have no idea.”

Levi's pals always helped him sell.

Without The Pit, where are they selling?

“Huh …” I nodded slowly, poking at my inner cheek with my tongue. “That's okay. Probably better you don't know.”

“Why?”

I twisted my lips and shook my head while the gears continued to turn and turn and turn.

“Just a feeling I have.”





CHAPTER SIXTEEN


FIRST DATES & FIRST FLOWERS



“Wow.”

I looked over my shoulder to see Ray standing on her porch in a fuzzy pink robe and matching slippers, a steaming cup of coffee clutched between her hands.

“What?” I asked, my lips lifting into a hesitant smile.

She studied me for a moment, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue. “It’s just not every day I get to stand outside on a beautiful spring day and see something that looks like”—she gestured toward me with the mug—“that.”

I laughed, all too aware of the heat rising in my cheeks as I shook my head before returning my attention to the tiller in my hands, jabbing the blades into the ground, using my foot for leverage, and pressing on the handles to loosen the hardened soil. It was a small patch of land, roughly ten feet by ten feet, and the job of cultivating the soil would be done in no time. But it was hot for the beginning of May. The sun was beating down on me with its relentless rays, and even without my shirt, my back and brow glistened with sweat.

It was uncomfortable—I had never been a fan of the heat—but at least Ray seemed to be enjoying the show. And even if her compliments made me blush—I just wasn’t used to being admired, I guessed—it was nice.

“Have I ever told you that you have really nice arms?” she asked, and I glanced over my shoulder again to watch her slowly take a sip from her mug, her eyes never diverting from me and my apparently nice arms.

“No, you’ve never mentioned that before,” I said. Resigned to the fact that I wouldn’t get much work done in her presence, I leaned against the tiller.

“Well, you do.”

Nobody had ever complimented me the way she did. Lust-filled but otherwise pure. I sometimes wondered what to say while my tongue fumbled stupidly around the words, but today, I thought maybe I could test the waters of my own flirting ability a little.

“How nice would you say they are?”

“Like”—she tipped her head back and pursed her lips with consideration—”they’re so nice that it is taking everything in me right now not to say fuck this coffee and enjoy you instead.”

I had to look away and chuckle, unable to fight my stupid grin. This thing between us was new—only a couple of weeks old, give or take—and it had started off nice, easy, and comfortable. No pressure. Not to mention, I didn’t want to push her into anything before she was ready. Especially knowing what I knew now about her life and history with the opposite sex. I wanted to keep everything on her terms. So, we flirted and kissed when the mood struck, exchanging little glances and soft touches every so often. And I was happy, genuinely content for maybe the first time in my life, and from what Ray repeatedly told me, she was too.