Downpour: A Grumpy Sunshine Romance (The Griffith Brothers Book 2)

Brooke snored.

I had to admit—it was cute. She was curled up on the couch like a cat with her head in my lap. The movie we had been watching was muted. I had turned the volume down as soon as her eyelids closed.

It had been a long day for both of us. We spent most of the morning and afternoon in town, bouncing between appointments.

Brooke went with me to my PT appointment. We stayed in town for lunch, then separated while I went to my first mental therapy appointment.

I hated it.

But I didn’t want to crush Brooke’s spirits. She seemed so hopeful that I was going. That it would fix me.

I was going to give it a shot, but I didn’t have her optimism.

While I sat in an office that was far too air-conditioned for my liking, Brooke picked up groceries, prescriptions, and parked at a coffee shop to use their WiFi. She had been looking into class options at the community college.

I knew she was bored as hell with me. I felt bad that she was wasting her time hanging around my house, waiting for me to need something.

Sometimes I asked her to help me just because I knew she was bored.

Her snores snapped me back to the present. I combed my fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her face. Her features were soft and angelic. Freckles dotted her nose and cheeks from being out in the sun.

After we made it back to the ranch, we crashed on the couch with leftovers pilfered from the fridge and hadn’t moved since.

Brooke stirred and nuzzled into my thigh. “Is the movie over?” she mumbled.

“It can be,” I said as I rubbed her back. “Are you ready to go to bed?”

She nodded but didn’t get up.

I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and carry her to bed. I wanted to lay her down and strip her bare. I wanted to pull her into me and hold her all night.

But I couldn’t do that.

The psychiatrist had left me more raw and sore than my physical therapy appointment. Maybe it was the whole “break you down before you’re built back up” thing, but I hated every second of it.

Christian texted me to ask how it went and promised it would get better, but I wasn’t so sure.

It took eight seconds for me to win a championship, and one second to lose everything else.

Turning the tides would take more than the weak pull I was left with.

Brooke’s soft snores resumed. Even the sun needed to set and rest.

She was the reason I had energy and drive to keep trying. Her hope and optimism fueled me.

“Come on,” I said softly. “You’ll sleep better in bed.”

We moved like zombies through the dark house. I made sure the doors were locked while Brooke brushed her teeth and washed her face.

“Ray?” she asked quietly as she stood in front of the door to my room.

I frowned because she sounded worried. “What’s the matter?”

“I was just gonna ask if I could sleep with you tonight.”

We had slept in the same bed together at the motel, and we had fallen asleep together a handful of times—usually by accident—at the house. But we had never intentionally gone to bed together.

Brooke gave me space, probably because she was afraid to ask for intimacy. That was definitely my fault.

I wheeled over and slid my hand up and down her thigh. “Always, baby. I want you in my bed.”

“You sure?” She dug a pink-painted toe into the floor and wobbled her ankle back and forth.

“I’m sure.”

Her smile was soft and sleepy.

I finished brushing my teeth, then cut the lights and eased over into the bed beside her. Brooke had taken up the left side, leaving the right side for me.

“How’d you know what side I sleep on?” I asked as I kissed her head.

“Your phone charger is over there,” she said with a yawn.

I chuckled. “Observant.”

I didn’t need to ask her to come closer. As soon as I was settled under the covers, Brooke curled into my side. She was asleep in seconds.

I was jealous of her peace. I couldn’t remember the last time I slept that well. If I wasn’t waking up from phantom pains or discomfort, I woke up with mental anguish.

But Brooke didn’t. She was steady and stalwart like the sunrise.

My hands ached from physical therapy. Callie gave me a break from gross motor skills and made me hold a fucking pencil for what felt like ages.

Maybe it was the warmth and pressure of her body against my chest, but my mind calmed much more quickly than it usually did.

“Ray.”

I stirred, rousing to Brooke’s whisper. I had been in the best sleep I could remember.

“What’s the matter, baby?” I mumbled into her hair.

“I think someone’s in the house,” she whispered.

My eyes blinked open and I froze. Brooke’s body was rigid against mine.

The house was silent. Maybe one of the animals had gotten out and was making noise outside. That happened fairly frequently.

A thud echoed from the living room, making us both jolt.

Brooke’s eyes widened in the moonlight.

Shit. What the hell was I going to do? The police response time this far out wasn’t worth a crap. I couldn’t do jack shit. Just getting in my wheelchair would make a fuck ton of noise.

Brooke ripped the covers back as I grabbed my phone to call CJ.

“What are you doing?” I hissed. “Get back here.”

Brooke, in her panties and my t-shirt, slid out of bed and grabbed one of my cuffed forearm crutches that was propped up against the wall.

“Get your ass in bed,” I snapped in a whisper. “I’m calling CJ.”

“And I’m going to see what the fuck is out there,” Brooke whispered.

“No.”

“Yes.”

The call to CJ connected, but Brooke was at the door before I could stop her. I yanked the covers back and felt around in the dark for the arm of my wheelchair. “Brooke⁠—“

She tiptoed into the kitchen then screamed. I heard the clunk and thud of the crutch connecting with a body. My blood ran cold.

“Brooke!” I roared as I dropped into my wheelchair and peeled out of the bedroom.

Brooke grunted as she pulled back and swung again like a slugger.

Headlights flashed across the front of the house. A shadowed figure grunted and let out a shout before bolting out the back door and off the deck. Brooke lunged towards the back yard, and I grabbed her arm.

“Stop,” I roared.

“But he’s getting⁠—“

“I don’t give a shit!” I snapped. “Get in the bedroom and lock the fucking door.”

Brooke scoffed. “Fat chance of that!”

The front door cracked as CJ kicked it open and barrelled in. He flicked the lights on and paused.

Brooke was wielding a forearm crutch like a sword, I had her arm in my grasp, and we were both in our underwear.

“Get. In. The. Bedroom,” I said through gritted teeth.

Brooke pointed to the open sliding door. “Call. The. Cops.”

I let her go and pinched the bridge of my nose. “You’re gonna give me an aneurysm.”

“Hey now,” CJ said as he eased into the situation. “What the hell happened? You called me at three in the morning and didn’t say anything.”

All at once, the adrenaline seemed to drain away from Brooke and reality set in. “Someone broke in,” she whispered.

CJ raised an eyebrow. “And you chased him out with a crutch?”

“I hit him twice and then he ran,” Brooke said. Her breath quickened as she looked at the crutch in her hand.

Anger burned inside me like a pool of fire.

I glanced at CJ, and he glared at me. Because of course he did. He and Brooke got along great.

Just one more fucking reminder that she should have been with someone else.

Someone who could wake up in the middle of the night and make sure the house was empty. Someone who could hold her when she was frightened. Someone who could protect her.

“I’ll call the police,” CJ said as he fished his phone from his pocket. He glanced at me and nodded his head towards the bedroom.

“Come on, Brooke,” I said as I took the crutch away from her and rolled back into the bedroom.

She followed, as quiet as a mouse.

“Get in bed,” I said as I hastily opened my dresser drawer and grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

“But what about⁠—”

“I’ll handle it,” I said as I turned and rolled to the door. “Go to sleep.”

The light of day made everything worse.

I hadn’t slept a wink since that fucker had broken into the house in the middle of the night.

The cops showed up an hour later and did the perfunctory rounds of taking statements, making notes of the sliding door that had been lifted off its tracks, fingerprints on the glass, and the tossed kitchen. Tire tracks were found on the service road that edged the south side of the ranch. They came and went out the back.

Nothing had been taken, but it was clear that they knew what they were going for. The cops promised to track down Brooke’s roommates, but they were probably already getting out of dodge.

Which left me with one giant loose end: Brooke.

More accurately, how I had snapped at her in the heat of the burglary. In a turn of events that I hated more than anything, she was ignoring me.

Christian had dragged my ass out of the house and into town for an impromptu therapy session after CJ snitched.

I both loved and hated how protective my brothers were of Brooke.

After being calmly and professionally bitched out by that therapist, I had been delivered back to my house like a goddamn pizza. But Brooke was nowhere to be found.

Regret left a sickening taste in my mouth. For once, I wasn’t bothered by my disability. I was disgusted with how I had acted.

I sat at the kitchen table, trying again and again to get my apology right, but it all seemed so trivial. Empty, frivolous words were a paltry offering when I knew I had inflicted deep wounds.

The pencil felt foreign in my hand, but the discomfort of trying again and again to form letters was the penance I had to pay.

When Brooke didn’t show back up by the afternoon, I went after her.

The barn was empty, except for a handful of horses and their judgmental glares. I steered the golf cart up the lane toward the ranch’s office.

Brooke’s car was still in my driveway, so she had to be on the property, right?

But what if Cass or Becks had driven her into town?

I pulled up to the office and got my wheelchair out. Voices carried through the corrugated metal frame. They silenced as I wheeled myself inside.

Christian, Cassandra, Nate, Becks, CJ, and my father stared at me in silence. Mickey was asleep on the dog bed in the corner.

“Family meeting I wasn’t told about?” I said as I wheeled in.

No one said a peep.

“Where’s Brooke?” I snapped.

Cassandra lifted an eyebrow. “Try that tone with me one more time. I dare you.”

“Do it,” Becks said. “I’d like to see what happens.”

I strangled the armrests of my wheelchair. “Will someone please tell me where Brooke is,” I gritted out.

“You’ve got the words, but you don’t have the music,” Christian said as he leaned back in his chair and stroked his beard. “Try that one more time.”

I growled. “This family drives me fucking crazy, you know that?”

Nate grinned. “Right back at you.”

I ran my hands down my face. “I need to apologize to her.”

They exchanged glances with one another.

Finally, my dad spoke up. “She’s up at the house with momma. They’re doing some baking.”

I huffed and turned to leave, but CJ quickly blocked the door. “Sit.”

“I am,” I countered.

He crossed his arms. “You know what I mean.”

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit,” Cassandra said. “Who wants to start?” She looked around. “No one? Good. I will. What the hell is your problem?”

My fingers clenched the armrests. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Yeah, you do, son,” Dad said. “Sit still and listen before you fuck it up.”

It wasn’t often that my father swore, but when he did, I knew it was serious.

“This is not your problem. It’s mine,” I said. “Let me handle it. Y’all have enough going on.”

“Which is why you left the ranch in the first place,” Christian said.

That made me pause.

“Because we had a lot going on. So you packed up and decided to ride bulls.” Christian lifted his cowboy hat and ran his hand over his long hair. “Nate got hurt. The ranch expanded, then we started struggling. So you left.”

I knew what he was getting at. It was something I had shared with him in confidence over a decade ago.

I never wanted to burden anyone, but I did. Packing up and heading to Colorado was the solution. Bull riding was my ticket out. I didn’t want to be another mouth to feed or put more strain on the family.

I returned when I was needed.

Christian needed help with his girls and the ranch after Gretchen died. So, I came back, did what needed to be done, and then left.

Being thrown off a bull and paralyzed reset the clock. It undid everything I had been working toward. Brought me back to the place I’d been hell-bent on leaving.

I came back without any say in the matter, and now I was an even bigger burden.

“Family isn’t a burden,” Dad said. “Assholes are. Stop acting like one. You’ve got a sweet girl who loves you to pieces and you’re acting foolish. Cut it out.”

“Someone broke into my house last night, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it,” I shouted. “None of you know what that feels like.”

“Maybe not, but I know what it feels like to need help. We all do,” Christian said. Cassandra opened her mouth to object, but Christian pointed at her. “Even Cass.”

She bit her lip and glared at him.

“Why do you think Becks and I chose to live on the ranch in the middle of nowhere when she has to fly to New York or around the world every month for work?” Nate asked. “If you don’t understand how family works, then you need to figure that out before you involve Brooke. Because this family isn’t going anywhere.”

“You have to decide if you want to be a part of it or not,” CJ said. “Because if you’re in, that means we get to help you. If someone breaks into your house, you call us because you know we’ll be there.”

My jaw throbbed from clenching my teeth together.

Becks’s eyes fell on mine. “We don’t think you’re being a dick because of your injury. You’re being a dick because you’re a prideful son of a bitch. You were that way before you needed to use a wheelchair.”

“Brooke doesn’t care about what you can and can’t do,” Christian said. “I see it in her. But she should care about you losing your shit on her.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t sign up for this little intervention today. “Easy for you to say.”

Nate hunched forward. “Downpours happen. You either drown in it or grow after it.”

“You owe her an apology,” Dad said. “Your momma and I raised you better than how you’re acting.”

I already had that part ready. I just needed to get her to talk to me.

“A good one,” Cassandra said. “Or I’ll kill you myself.”

“Please,” I grumbled. “You just talk a big game.”

Cass rocketed out of her chair. “Wanna try me? You mess with my little sunflower, and I’ll⁠—”

Christian caught her around the waist and pulled her against his chest. “Settle down, princess. I think he’s had his fair share of crow for the day.”

Becks snickered behind the balled fist she pressed to her mouth. “What’s your plan, Ray? If you need a woman’s point of view, you know where to find us.”

I tipped my head at Cass. “I don’t think I want hers.”

The group snickered.

Sighing, I said, “I’m working on it. I’m… I’m gonna make it right. I just have to find her a job, then find her so I can fire her.”

That seemed to appease the mob. They shared brief nods.

“Start with the apology,” Cass said. “I’ll handle the job.”

The door to the office creaked, and a shadow dashed away outside.

I looked at Christian. “Where are your girls?”

“At a friend’s house.”

Shit.