Downpour: Chapter 8

Soft light floated through the living room. Everything was quiet. The couch creaked as I eased up onto my elbow and blinked.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

My stomach sank like an anvil as I blinked the sleep from my eyes and came to.

Oh my god. I fell asleep at Ray’s house.

On Ray’s couch.

On top of Ray.

The set of abs under my head was a startling wake-up call, but oh my god—he smelled so good.

I panicked, pawing around until I found my phone stuffed between the couch cushions.

It was only a few minutes after nine in the morning, but it was an hour past when I was supposed to be at Mr. Wilson’s house.

Missed calls from Peggy at the main office filled my phone screen.

I was so getting fired.

Dread and anxiety roiled in my gut as I scrambled off the couch.

“Brooke?” Ray was still stretched out on the couch. He was awake, but drowsy. His hair was messy, hanging in his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Late. I’ve gotta go.” I jumped into my flip-flops and grabbed my keys, but paused and braced my hands on the edge of the coffee table as my head spun.

I hissed and cradled my temple. It felt like I had been hit by a sledgehammer. How could one frail, old man do that much damage?

“You shouldn’t be driving,” he said as he held onto the arm of the couch and pushed up until he was sitting. “You could have a concussion.”

As much as I wanted to stay and have a lazy morning with him, I didn’t have the time. “I drove yesterday. I’ll be fine. I have to go.”

Ray’s eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Brooke⁠—“

The rough tone of his voice made my heart ache. Was he worried or angry?

Probably angry. I had fallen asleep on his couch—on him.

I wanted to stay, but I couldn’t. In fact, I didn’t know if I’d even be coming back.

I needed to call Peggy back, then use the rest of my drive back to town to figure out where I was going to start applying for jobs.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered as I darted out of the house.

I waited to call Peggy until I had made it back onto the paved service road. The bumps and potholes along the ranch’s dirt paths had the tendency to make my car scream like a banshee.

I felt like I was going to throw up as I waited for her to pick up.

“Caring Hands Home Help. This is Peggy. How may I help⁠—“

“Peggy, it’s Brooke. I’m so sorry. I—I overslept and I didn’t hear my phone going off and I⁠—”

She huffed. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all morning.”

“I know. I’m so sorry. I’m heading to Mr. Wilson’s house right now.”

“Don’t bother,” she clipped.

My heart dropped.

I had been trying so hard. I didn’t mean to be this much of a wreck, but sometimes I just was. I couldn’t help that my roommates liked to operate on nocturnal schedules and throw parties. I couldn’t help that my car wouldn’t let me go over forty miles an hour. I couldn’t help that I was always late to the ranch because Mr. Wilson made it hard to get away. I couldn’t help that the agency only gave me one uniform shirt, so it was always dirty.

But I was trying. I really, really was.

I just wanted to be good at something.

“Am I getting fired?” I whispered.

Peggy huffed. “We’ll talk when you get here.”

I made the drive back to the office in silence. I couldn’t even muster the desire to turn on the radio to something cheery. It was the perfect day to scream “Great Balls of Fire” at the top of my lungs and bop around in the driver’s seat, but I couldn’t be bothered. It felt like I was driving to my own execution.

I pulled up to the curb and didn’t even bother waiting out the perfunctory three minutes before heading inside. I just unbuckled my seatbelt, got out, and loped up the steps to the office.

Peggy wasn’t at her desk, so I sat in the chair across from hers and waited.

“Oh,” she said when she bustled into the front, carrying a thick stack of papers that smelled like they were fresh from the copier. “You’re here.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She dropped down into the rolling desk chair and practically threw the stack of papers at me. “Sign these.”

“Am I getting fired?”

Peggy glared at me. “Much to my dismay, no. You’re not. Now sign those if you still want to be employed. And what happened to your face?”

I started to thumb through them. “Is this like a workers’ comp thing? I meant to call you when I left Mr. Wilson’s house yesterday to tell you about what happened, but⁠—”

“Let me guess. You forgot. You got busy. It slipped your mind.” Her tone made me feel small. I wanted to melt into the floor.

“I was just trying to make it out to Mr. Griffith’s house in time, and I had some errands to run for him in between.”

“Well, it looks like you made a good impression. The Griffith family wants you full-time.”

I froze. “What?”

She threw a pen at me. “Do you want the job or not?”

I started scribbling my name on the dotted line before she finished her sentence. “Yes. Um, of course. Yes. Please. Yes.”

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.”

Peggy was quiet as I worked through each page, signing and dating as needed. I paused when I got to the compensation breakdown, and my eyes bugged out.

That was more money than I had ever made in my entire life. I’d be paid every week, and my living expenses would be covered since I would be at his house.

I’d still need to keep my room at my house, just in case, but this was…

This was a game changer.

I couldn’t let myself think the job would last me the entire two years I needed to make it through. But maybe I could save up enough and coast into my trust fund when I turned twenty-five.

I left the office feeling like an unbearable weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

Peggy’s last marching orders had been to go to my place and pack up all the things I wanted to have when I moved into Ray’s house. I usually would have been expected at Ray’s house this afternoon, but I had been given the day off to get my affairs in order.

Not that I had many affairs to get in order.

I had a backpack that doubled as a suitcase and a reusable grocery bag that held my toiletries. It wouldn’t take me long to pack. I could get back to the ranch before dark.

Cars were lined up in the driveway and on the street in front of the house. I had to park a block away and hoof it up the cracked sidewalk filled with overgrown weeds. Beer cans and liquor bottles littered the lawn.

I didn’t bother pulling my key out. The door was cracked open. Bodies were strewn about the living room. The whole place reeked of old takeout that was fermenting on the counter, weed, and alcohol. A trash bag had been tied to the door handle because the garbage can was overflowing. It looked like they had tried to use it as a basketball goal, but none of the trash actually made it into the bag.

“Staceeeee.” Nick lifted his head off the stained rug in the middle of the living room floor. He was barely coherent. “What’s up? You missed a hell of a party last night.” His eyes couldn’t focus on one spot in particular.

I stepped around the assortment of bodies in various states of undress and made a beeline for the stairs. “Looks like it.”

“Where ya going?” he called.

“To pack!” I hollered down.

“Pack?” he mumbled as he lumbered up the stairs. “Pack for what?”

I paid him no mind as he slumped in my doorway while I shoved clothes into my backpack. “A client wants me full time. I’ll be there during the week and back here on the weekends.”

“You’re not living here anymore?”

“I’ll still live here. I just won’t sleep here every night.”

“Right. You’ll be….”

“At the Griffith Brothers Ranch.” I let out a proud sigh. “This is just what I’ve been waiting for.”

Nick pointed to the calendar I had tacked to the wall. I hadn’t slashed out today since I had been at Ray’s this morning.

“What’s that?”

“What? My calendar? Oh, I’m just counting down the days until I turn twenty-five.”

“Why?”

“Because then I’ll have access to my trust fund, and my life will begin. I think I might go back to college. Maybe I’ll get a dog. I’m definitely getting a new car. Maybe a convertible, so I can drive with the top down. I mark off every day and smile because I’m one day closer to getting out of here.”

“Right,” he said listlessly as his eyes glazed over again. “Don’t forget that you owe us for the trash service. It’s fifty bucks.”

From the looks of the interior of the house, no one had bothered to take the trash bags to the bins outside.

Or put the trash from the floor into the trash bags.

I winced. “I don’t have it on me right now. Can I pay you this weekend? I didn’t know it was my month to cover it. I thought it was Chandler’s.”

Nick stroked his chin. “It’s $115 with the late fee.”

I sighed. “I get paid every Friday now. I’ll have it to you then.”

He shrugged and lumbered back down the stairs. “Your choice.”

I crammed the rest of my things into my bags and waddled out to my car with my hands full and my pillows stuffed under my arms. I could sleep almost anywhere, but I had to have my own pillows.

Well, except last night when I fell asleep on Ray.

Between the panic of rushing out of Ray’s house this morning, to showing up at the office thinking I was getting fired, to getting a better gig and packing my things, I hadn’t given myself time to reconcile what had happened.

I fell asleep on Ray Griffith yesterday. And he didn’t push me away.

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

Maybe I shouldn’t have. He clearly had some anger he needed to work through.

But I did. I felt safe with him.

The ranch was peaceful and quiet. At his house, surrounded by the trees, it felt like we were the only two people on earth.

His arms had felt so safe.

I never slept well with my roommates up at all hours of the night. It had been so long since I’d had a full night of uninterrupted sleep.

I still had a wicked headache. My face looked like I had lost a fight with a mountain lion. But I didn’t think Ray minded.

I felt so stupid for crying in front of him yesterday, but the feel of his hand on my cheek as he wiped away my tears was branded into my memory.

The gates of the ranch were a welcome sight. As I drove along the path to Ray’s house, it was like watching a migration. Horses, trucks, ATVs, and people on foot headed to Claire and Silas’s house.

I waved to everyone I passed as I made my way to Ray’s grove of trees.

The house was quiet and dark, but I could see the glow from the TV as I let myself in.

“Hey,” I said as I pack-muled my things inside.

Ray looked up from the recliner. “Hey.”

“So….” I looked around. “I’m here full time now…”

He tipped his chin.

“Can I ask⁠—“

Ray chuckled. “Has asking if you can ask ever stopped you from asking before?”

I felt a little sheepish at being called out like that, but he wasn’t wrong. “Was this your doing or your family’s doing? I just want to know how much I’m expected to ignore you.”

Ray didn’t let a hint of emotion slip, but I swear he was about to smile. “Cassandra made the call.”

My heart dropped.

“Oh.”

Before I could say anything else, he added, “But I told her to.” Ray tipped his head to the door beside his bedroom. “Guest room’s yours.”

I nodded and squeezed through the door with all my things.

It was neat, but clearly unused. There was a closet, a dresser, a nightstand, and a queen-sized bed.

The bed I had been sleeping on back at the house was a twin. A queen mattress was going to feel amazing. It had been made up with pretty linens in a soft sky blue. White pillows with tufted cases were stacked against the headboard.

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