by B. K. Rivers
The sounds of pounding hammers stop, and shielding my eyes, I look to the roof where Vic and his dad are laying down shingles.
“Jemma?” Vic calls from so high up. He wipes his arm across his forehead and squints down at me. “What are you doing here?” Not the greeting I was hoping for.
“Can we talk?”
“Look, Dad and I have to finish this roof today. Can I call you later?”
My bottom lip begins to tremble and my eyes are stinging. Can it be he’s already moved on? What do I do? I don’t know if I can handle never seeing him again. What if he doesn’t feel the same way about me anymore?
“Vic, I really need to talk to you,” I try again.
This time, his dad steps in. “Go on down, son. Go hear what she has to say.” Vic sighs loud enough for me to hear him, though he climbs down the tall ladder and makes his way over to me. He’s wearing jeans and boots and his white t-shirt is dirty from the black shingles and sweat has soaked through along his back. He has smudges of black dust on his nose and forehead, making me want to clean his face off with my fingers.
“You look good,” he says as his eyes look me over, causing the blood to rise to my cheeks.
“Thank you. The house is looking beautiful. I can’t wait to see it when it’s finished.” I’m stalling, dragging my sandal in the dirt.
“I really need to get back up there and get the roof on. A storm is supposed to blow through tonight and I want the shingles on.” Vic sighs and places his hands behind his head, pulling the muscles in his arms tight. “What did you want to talk about?” His hands move from his head to the back pockets of his jeans.
I’ve never been more nervous in my life. The butterflies doing Zumba in my stomach are now doing Tae Bo. This is not good. Clearing my throat, I reach around Vic’s elbow and pull him toward the small waterfall. The day is peaceful, the air unusually chilly for the end of summer. If a storm is on the way, the current weather gives no indication of it.
“I realized something,” I begin with a deep breath. Vic’s eyes rise in question and heavy tears form on my lids, though I blink them away. “I’ve been silly, stupid, really. So much has changed for me over the last few months and I haven’t exactly dealt with them all with grace. In fact, I would almost say I’ve run from them. But I’m done running. I’m through holding back.” I pull Vic’s hands from his pockets and hold them in mine. His blue-gray eyes look down at me with tenderness. “It’s been so long since someone other than Gran has loved me, I didn’t recognize the feelings in myself. As much as it scares me, Vic, I don’t want this feeling to ever go away.”
Vic steps closer to me, the heat from his body reaching out as though it’s pulling me toward him. He drops my hand and brushes a few strands of stray hair behind my ear, making the butterflies plummet to my knees. Closing my eyes, I lean my head into his hand and savor the feeling of his hand on my skin.
“So, what you’re saying is…” Vic draws out his words, waiting for me to finish. His lips are curved into a thin, hopeful smile.
“I’m saying I don’t want us to fight anymore. And I’m sorry for driving a wedge between us. It was stupid and I was afraid of you leaving me. Which was dumb, because you left anyway, because of me.”
“I didn’t leave you, Jemma.” He’s close enough now that our chests touch. Our breathing has become synchronized. “I gave you space to figure out what you wanted. I couldn’t stand in your way if there was someone else you wanted to be with. You needed to figure that out on your own.”
I nod in agreement while looking back into the eyes of someone who has become so familiar to me. Every crease, line, and freckle on his face like a map to my heart.
“So, have you figured it out?”
My hands find themselves resting on Vic’s chest, his heart pounding heavily against my fingers. Smiling, I clench my hands around his t-shirt and quell the desire to pull his lips to mine. Instead, I slowly stand on the tips of my toes, climb my fingers to his shoulders, and whisper into his ear.
“I love you, Vic. I chose you months ago, even though I was afraid to admit it.” His arms engulf me as he lifts me off my feet and spins me around. I let my head fall back as he turns us and his lips brush against my neck, filling my body with goose bumps. We fall to the grassy ground in a heap of laughter until Vic rolls me onto my back with my arms around his neck.
“Say it again. I want to hear it again,” he says, his blue eyes darkening.
“I love you, Vic Harper.” I may not have yelled it, but it was loud enough Vic’s dad gave us a whistling approval and I didn’t even care he heard me. “It’s true. I love you.”
Vic drops his head, brushes his lips across mine, then with tender care, and kisses me. It’s a kiss of promises, of hope and trust. A staking of claim and of reckless abandon. A kiss of love and fever and heat. His tongue glides over and around mine, and as we breathe for each other, I realize I’m home. I’ve found my beacon, my light, the one whose soul matches mine. Nothing will ever be the same again and I’m okay with that. My forever is here and I intend on keeping it that way.
Epilogue
Fourteen Months Later
Looking Back on Things
Vic
I’m not sure how many people can say they actually fell in love the first time they saw someone, but that is what happened the first time I saw Jemma. Well, truth be told, I saw her almost every day in high school for a year and knew she was hot. But what I’m talking about is the day at the gas station, and again that first time at the club. She was dressed in this cute, okay, scratch that, damn sexy blue dress that hugged her figure like it was second skin. Her hair fell over her shoulders in waves, and even though she looked like a freaking goddess, I could tell she wasn’t feeling confident. She continually tucked her hair behind one ear, glanced around the room, and when her friends forgot she was there and made out in front of her, she stirred in her seat.
The first time I approached her and offered to buy her a drink she didn’t even notice me. She waved her hand dismissively, shooing me away. Sure, I was disappointed, but I don’t give up easily when it comes to something I want. In this case, it was her. She danced a bit with Angie and when Caleb finally came out to dance with his girl, I made my move.
I still remember how she looked at me as though I couldn’t be interested in her. When we danced it was just like we had planned the steps and worked on them for years. I led and she followed; there wasn’t any time where our dancing was awkward. When we exchanged numbers that night I could hardly wait to call her and ask her out. And then the next day while working on the farm, I leaned over the top railing of a combine and my stupid phone slipped out of my shirt pocket. There wasn’t any way I could rescue the phone or Jemma’s number before the combine ran over it. I was certain if I ever saw her again she would never believe me about what happened. But, thankfully, she did. Man, when I saw her again at the club, my heart stopped. I remember pounding my fist on my chest just to make sure I hadn’t died or imagined her. She gave me a run for my money that night, and when I teased her about being underage and drinking I thought I’d lost her for good.
While we drove through Warner and back to Angie and Caleb’s house, I couldn’t think. My body hummed and my heart hammered in my chest just being so close to her. And alone. I dated a lot in high school and after, but as far as I was concerned, Jemma would be my last. And as we lay together on Caleb’s couch and she told me about her life and her miscarriage, my heart broke for her. Family has always been so important to me, and for her to lose a mother, have a father who abandoned her, and then lose a baby, I could only imagine how much that all hurt her. But somehow, even through the pain, she came out of it all a wonderful, caring, and genuine person.
Our first date almost didn’t happen, which scared the shit out of me. I knew that if I cancelled on her, my chances with her would be out the window. So after I hung up the phone with my boss, who had called asking me to come in and cover for Scott who calle
d in sick, I blew out a sigh of relief but then kicked myself for turning down the overtime.
Jemma’s ranch was beautiful and in the early morning light it almost makes you want to park and watch the sun shining through those huge trees. When I met her gran it was like meeting a long lost relative. I could see how Jemma grew up to be so kind and humble. Her eyes lit up and her cheeks flushed a pretty pink color and it was like I fell for her all over again. Of course it didn’t hurt that she looked great in those pink capris and that shirt that teased me being nearly see-through. I couldn’t think straight the whole day, and at the theater, it took all my will power not to peel off her capris and make love to her there. And damn, those tiny shorts of hers that day we went riding, I almost said screw the condom, and maybe I should have, considering how upset she had been.
The whole thing with Jordan, his overdosing, writing letters to her, and that last concert; God, I thought I’d lost her. When we argued over her deciding to go to his concert in Denver, I pretty much thought she was done with me. We didn’t see each other or talk for two weeks and it was pure hell. I didn’t know if I should call her or text her or just show up at her house; what I did know was she wasn’t calling me either.
When I picked her up from the airport that night it was all I could do not to scoop her into my arms and carry her to my truck and then through the hospital doors to her Gran. She seemed so fragile, like a wounded animal and it killed me. Yet, I kept my distance from her, believing we were through. That Jordan had won.
But sometimes what’s right comes to those who wait, and thank God I didn’t have to wait long. I was starting to go crazy from the silence and the unknown. The day she showed up at my house by the stream wearing that strappy sundress was one of the best days of my life. Not only did she look amazing, even if her face was blotchy and puffy around her eyes, she told me she loved me. That she chose me. I could have flown had I had wings. I felt like I had wings.
As we lay together now, spooning, with my hand resting on her swollen belly, I know that I am the happiest I’ve ever been. She wears my ring on her left hand, and in a few short weeks we’ll be holding the tiny infant we’ve created.
After Gran died and Jemma came to me at my house, I proposed to her the next week. We met her father and his family in Seattle and were married within a month. The wedding night, well, let’s just say we said screw the condoms, and we may have kept our neighbors in the hotel awake most of the night.
Every once in a while, Jemma receives a text from Jordan, and as much as I want to say it bothers me, the truth of the matter is it doesn’t. He wrote to her a few months after Gran’s funeral saying that she was right. As much as he thought he was in love with her, it was more the idea of love that had caught up to him. He said she showed him something he would never forget and he didn’t want her to go chasing a forever that would never come. He and his band have worked things out and are doing better than ever. He’s staying clean and sober, and with all of that combined he knows love will come in time. And when it does, he promises to grab hold, hang on tight, and love with all he’s got.
~The End~
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Acknowledgments
If you were to go back and ask my eight-year-old self if she would ever grow up to write a novel, her answer would be an astounding no! After third grade I gave up reading for pleasure and sadly can count on one hand the number of books I did read until my late twenties. So my first thank you goes out to Shannon Hale, who unknowingly gave me back my love of reading. Without The Goose Girl I would have never learned how much I love to read and create stories of my own.
I would also like to thank my NaNoWriMo friends who taught me all about word wars. They were instrumental in getting words on my screen and I owe at least a third of Raining Down Rules to all the time I spent word warring.
To Brenda Drake and her creation of #PitMad, thank you for your generosity and desire to help authors break into the world of publishing. Who knew 140 characters could truly lead to publishing a novel?
To Brighton Walsh, Kelly Siskind, and Gypsy Rae Choszer for your feedback and knowledge. Thank you so much for your kind words and helpful criticism.
A giant thank you goes out to Bonnie and her endless encouragement and the many, many, many late night word wars. Thank you for giggly nights at IHOP and Barnes & Noble, for cheering me on and for introducing me to Captain Literally—Balance Restored!
Mom! Thank you for reading Jemma, Vic, and Jordan’s story and for supporting me from so far away. It means the world to me that you kept asking for more.
To my husband, who didn’t realize his wife would disappear for a month each November. I’m sorry, but it’s going to happen again this year. Thank you for being the kind of man who entertains my whims and crazy ideas. Thank you for encouraging me to finish writing even if it meant staying up until midnight. Thank you for being my forever.
Lastly, thank you to the Limitless Publishing team for taking a chance on Raining Down Rules based off of only 140 Twitter characters. You amaze me.
Wooing hoops!
About the Author
BK Rivers grew up riding through rolling fields of grain on horseback, driving hay trucks and catching frogs in a silver creek. She traded country life for the big city when she married the love of her life, but the heart always returns to the country.
BK, her husband and three children live in the Phoenix suburbs on their own mini farm surrounded by crowing roosters and the low nicker of horses. When she’s not writing, she can be found baking anything sweet, in fact it’s been said her brownies are so good they save marriages.
The inspiration for her novels comes in many forms, but mostly from her Gotye channel on Pandora. She writes young adult and new adult novels to the beat of Gotye, Snow Patrol and many others.
Blog:
http://www.BKRivers.blogspot.com
Twitter:
http://twitter.com/WriterRivers
Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/AuthorBKRivers
Goodreads:
http://www.goodreads.com/BKRivers