Billionaire Cowboy: Siblings (Book 2 in the Richland Series)

Chapter 3: Rianne

Rianne's pov

If you had the option of learning the name of the person you will fall in love with or the date your love story begins, which would you choose?

Growing up, kids believed in fairy tales and love stories, but as adults, we all know that crap only exists in movies and romance novels. In real life, love is an illusion people grasp onto hoping to avoid heart ache. Knights-in-shiny-armor are words with a basic meaning: a guy who likes to wear heavy protection. Most, if not all, males are consumed in their alpha image, relying on physical strength rather than mental smarts and prefer to treat females like toys to be played with and then discarded.

I’m not bitter. Once one accepts the truth, it's easier to deal with it.

* * *

Wrapping up another long week, my eyes were tired, and my brain was fried. I love incorporating new ideas into my social media blog, Rodeo Ways, but after another sixteen-hour day, I need a break.

Truth be told, I’m a workaholic who avoids living.

Odds are, if I stepped away for a break, I’d be back within the hour exploring a new idea or concept. Why, you ask? I have one of those brains that never stops. I’m constantly thinking, rethinking and overthinking. And, in my opinion, the worst part of technology is the option to edit. When episodes are posted, I’m not sure if I’m ever satisfied or if I simply move on because something new has grabbed my attention.

Deciding to relax my body, I prepared my tub for a long soak. The quiet lavender-scented bathroom allows my brain to break down the last couple of days aimlessly searching for fulfilment. Will I find it? Who knows? For now, wine is the best way to embrace my chosen lifestyle.

Following the soak, a hot relaxing shower recharged my spirit, but my mind needed more than a row of strong jets pummeling my shoulders and back.

I need a distraction.

Enjoying the temporary quietness, I got dressed and noticed the wall calendar. Two days until my next posting only means one thing. It’s Friday evening. “Alexa, play music.” A simple command and music filled the room.

Most twenty-two-year-olds would be planning a night out with friends, aka ladies’ night at the local bar or scouting the local watering hole, but not me. I reach millions of people through my blog, but in real life, I prefer a warm blanket and a good book.

Small Town Boy by Dustin Lynch started playing through the speaker and memories from the summer before my senior year of high school bounced around in my head. That night was still blurry from the beer I had guzzled, but I remember attending a house party where I found myself dancing and getting felt up by a guy who was too drunk to stop.

Escaping his clutches, I trudged outside with loud smacks of random hand prints branded on my arse and boobs. Both guys and girls had wandering hands, but my fuzzy mind was unable to block the advances.

From that night on, I only drink large amounts of alcohol when I’m around those I know and trust.

* * *

My mind continued to wander.

Watching my silky dark brown hair flop down my backside as I blew it dry reminded me of winter days after a long day playing hockey at the duck pond. It didn’t matter when you arrived, there was always someone wanting to play. There was never an “IF” but rather a “WHEN” something was going to happen.

No plans, no calendars. Life was easy.

The guitar intro to Hard Workin' Man by Brooks and Dunn blared through the speakers, bringing my thoughts back to the present.

For the past six years, I have been lost in my work and rarely adventure outside my routine. Am I working too hard? Maybe one of these days things will change. Smirking, I recalled the promise I made to my cousin Trevor about adding personal /social events to my calendar. Luckily, he's been out of state working on a family ranch and hasn't had time to check up on me.

Okay, so it’s not like I purposely avoid people, it’s just that after Rodeo Ways became popular, it’s been hard to tell if someone likes me for me or for my blog. Being an outcast most of my life, thanks to my stepbrother, allowed me to observe from the sidelines and discover people's true colors. Unfortunately, it didn't take long for me to learn that most people have desires created from greed and thrive with jealousy and insecurities.

And to add more to my case of being alone, while I’m an outgoing, friendly person in front of the camera, it would be exhausting to always be friendly and pleasant. What happens when I don’t feel like wearing make-up or want to engage in conversations?

There have been days I wished no one knew who I was.

But you can't blame me for this way of thinking. I mean, heaven-for-bid I come off rude to Old Man Hamill or unpleasant to Mrs. Smythers when my mind is too exhausted to interact. They may be older people in town, but their wicked tongues can be brutal. One bad comment could spread like wildfire and ruin a reputation that took years to build.

Noticing the clock on my bedstand, 4:50pm, my stomach growled, reminding me I had skipped lunch. Well, it’s time to head over to my parent’s place for family dinner.

As kids grow up and leave the nest, most families drift apart, but not mine. My mom started weekly family dinners after I graduated college as an attempt to keep tabs on Matt and I.

But let’s be honest, it’s not difficult to find either of us. I’m always locked in my office /IT room or away filming in an arena. And when Matt’s not rotating through bunnies, he’s on the road, helping on a ranch or at our parents’ house with bags of dirty laundry and a hungry belly.

The guy kills me. He has a brand-new laundry room at his place that I doubt has ever been used. But if doing laundry is the way to keep him coming back around, my mom would never question him.

Locking my front door, the chorus from Turn You Down by HARDY started playing, which means I got a text from my stepbrother. I should appreciate his attempts to keep tabs on me, but he’s not really concerned about my safety tonight. He’s always impatient when it comes to meals. It’s like his belly has an alarm clock, if the meal is served later than expected, his hangry monster takes over.

Matt: Dinner in 10. Don’t be late. (Love you too, Matt.)

Spitting up dust and pebbles on the long driveway, I noticed a purple car parked near Mike and Matt’s place. It's been there for a couple of days. Driving by, I wonder if one of them is brave enough to bring one of their bunnies to our family dinner.

Turning along the bend in the road and honking as I passed my cousin Ty’s house, I smiled, it was nice to see lights on. Ever since he prospected for the local motorcycle club a few years back, he’s rarely around. I miss him.

Passing a row of Douglas fir trees, I quickly admired the large red barn on a hill in the distance. My Uncle Gage and Aunt Claire’s house is unique and beautiful, like their love story.

Yep, most of my family lives on family property.

Unlike families who live closer to the center of town, every adult in the Richland family is given a one or two-bedroom house until they’re ready to build a "forever home." Rumor has it, the more Grandpa Richland likes your significant other, the better the piece of property he’ll award you. Case in point, Aunt Claire stayed by Uncle Gage’s side when he battled drugs and now, they’re living in a house that has 360 degree views of our family's eastern property.

Parking my truck, a text rolled in from Trevor. He’s a good guy and we’ve been close since childhood, but his obsession with a girl named Abby is getting ridiculous. That's probably why he's taken a sudden interest in my personal life. He knows Abby and I are friends.

The whole situation is funny. Trevor likes Abby but chickens out when given opportunities to ask her out. And Abby clams up when he's around. What my dear cousin doesn’t know is that Abby has liked him for awhile. Basically, nothing is going to happen without an intervention.

Trevor: Hey girl, I’m back in town. You up for a bonfire?

Me: Where?

Waiting for his response, I sent a text to Abby.

Me to Abby: Are you up for a bonfire tonight? Trevor will be there. *heart emoji*

When word spreads about a gathering, everyone and their mother shows up, creating the perfect distraction for me.

Trevor: Kettlemans, by the river

Sam Kettleman’s family has a large ranch situated behind two hillsides with a river along the back edge. His older brothers were known for throwing all-nighters because the secluded area trapped the noise, not to mention everyone has time to flee before the police arrive.

Me to Abby: Kittleman’s by river, quad

My hesitation in responding while I texted Abby, prompted Trevor’s plea.

Trevor: I’ll pick up at dusk, dress warm, SBS

Me: *thumbs up emoji*

Abby: *crazy smile emoji and a heart.* Yeah, she’s looking forward to seeing Trevor.

Reaching the secluded area is not easy at night, everyone will have to ride either quads or side-by-sides because the terrain is too rough for vehicles. Lucky for us, there are a couple of trails leading from our ranch to Kittleman’s ranch that will take us along the river.

* * *

After eating dinner, I returned to my house and grabbed my Avs hat, maroon and blue flannel and Carhart jacket. Being from a hockey-crazed town, everyone grows up skating on frozen ponds and watching games during the fall to early summer. Without a professional hockey team in our state, most people in town support teams from up north, the Toronto Maple Leaves or the Calgary Flames. But eh, they’re not for me. I fell in love with the Colorado Avalanche when my stepdad took us to games when we were kids.

* * *

Having better knowledge of the trails, I drove Trevor’s SBS while he played DJ. His taste in music makes me giggle. A song by Taylor Swift bumped through the speakers before he could punch into his phone trying to change it. He acts manly, but if given a chance to see her in concert, I bet he'd go.

The infamous beat of Thunderstruck by AC-DC puts a smile on my face. Way to redeem yourself, cousin.

Reaching the secluded area wasn’t hard to find when you followed the bright glow lighting up the darkness from the oversized bonfire. Situated between two large fields, wheat and alfalfa, the party area was upgraded from my last visit. Looking around, I could barely sketch out a woodshed to the left, a treehouse built between four enormous ponderosa pines in the back and a large area surrounded by boulders and small rocks perfect for hosting bonfires to the right. A quick scan also showed cornhole boards and a table set up for beer pong.

Parking among the off-road ATVs created an enclosure for the craziness that would soon erupt. Kegs leaned against a boulder create the bar area and speakers connected through Bluetooth gave a club-like experience. Looking around, everyone is old enough to visit the local bars, but something about being out in nature without restrictions made these kinds of nights a big attraction.

Walking around, a girl who looked familiar from high school, handed Trevor a beer before walking off looking over her shoulder and winking.

Yeah, he has a ‘I want you’ target on his back. Too bad his eyes are searching for one girl, Abby.

Hey, thanks for the beer. Oh wait, I'm invisible.

We shared his beer as head bobs and hand waves greeted us from faces hidden among the shadows. It’s no surprise Trevor knew everyone’s names, he was popular in high school and made friends easily. I barely remembered a couple of names, let alone recognized faces.

A guy's voice announced, “Hey, Ri,” catching me off guard. Taking a sip of beer, Trevor tilted his head to the side and smirked. Scrunching my brows, I looked over my shoulder to find a small group of guys bobbing their heads. Is that Mike, Scott and Matt? What the? I smiled, then looked at Trevor who had wrapped his arm around my shoulder, laughing. They must have been teasing Trevor for hanging out with his cousin.

Thanks brother.

Reaching the kegs, we grabbed another cup as Trevor got roped into playing a game of cornhole. It wasn’t like they twisted his arm; he accepted the challenge by downing a shot of whiskey without saying a word. Leaning towards me, he whispered, “If you want to walk around, you’ll know where to find me.”

Yeah, I got the hint, he wants me to look for Abby.

Leaving with my beer, I searched for a quiet place to pee. Using my phone’s flashlight, I maneuvered over a couple of boulders before finding a large bush, allowing me to hide my bare bottom and a place for my beer. I don’t mind drinking lagers or pilsners, but once you pee and break the seal, you end up having to pee nonstop.

Noting my hidden bathroom, I returned to my beer, spotting Abby with a tall blonde-haired guy. Who’s he? My mission was over before it started. Approaching them, I overheard her introduce the stranger as her cousin.

Thank goodness.

Everyone liked Abby, which was evident by the headbobs and cups raised in our direction as we walked around. She simply waved but I noticed she was trying to be sly, searching the crowds for a specific face. Pointing to the cornhole area and giving her a wink, she responded with a smile and dropped her head as a light blush stained her cheeks.

Yep, she’s been looking for Trevor.

Trying to find a way to get her away from her cousin, my mind went blank. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember his name because I was too busy witnessing guys smiling in our direction. Abby has no idea how many guys are checking her out.

The cousin caught my attention when he asked about my hat, giving Abby an escape and causing me to get into a debate about which team was better, the Avs or his team, the Golden Knights. This poor soul was from southern Nevada where snow never touches the ground, but he seemed to think he had a better understanding of hockey from watching it on TV.

Downing our beers, we stood in line for the kegs as we discussed team stats. Honestly, I think I know more about his team's players than he does, but there’s no need to embarrass him. Watching Abby stare off into the distance, I turned and found her making eye contact with Trevor.

They're standing ten feet apart, but neither will make a move.

Distracted by the "hockey" cousin, I decided to call him Puck. I walked over to Abby with a cup of beer and asked her to help me deliver it to a friend. Needing a break from debating with Puck, we all walked to the cornhole area.

Reaching Trevor, who was leaning against a boulder, he accepted the cup with his signature dimpled smile. The s****l tension between them was thick but neither made a move and it was killing me.

Pretending to listen to Puck blab about his cornhole wins, the boy never shuts up, I paused when someone called Trevor's name wanting another game. Grabbing Puck’s hand, I pulled him towards the boards, insisting he was replacing Trevor and giving Abby time with her crush.

The wait was agonizing.

They smiled and even though I stood a couple of feet away, I could hear them talk about nonsense, the weather, the upcoming rodeo season and friends from high school. Rubbing my face, I sighed, hoping when I find a guy, that I’m attracted to, I won’t waste time like an i***t.

An intervention was needed.

Walking closer to the hopeless couple, I pulled out the SBS’s keys, “Hey, I’m going to head out. Abby, can you give Trev a ride home?” She nodded with a rose blush on her cheeks. The silence was awkward. I jingled the keys, “Okay, I’m heading out while you two get to know each other. I mean you both like each other,” I took a couple of steps back, “So do us all a favor and kiss the girl Trev.”

Abby’s mouth dropped open as shock rattled her face. Trevor gave me a wink, then reached for her hand and pulled her gently towards his lap, having her stand between his legs. Cupping her cheek with a palm, he guided her towards him and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Leaning back slowly, he checked her reaction only to have her dive back in with a kiss of her own.

Abby will probably give me an earful tomorrow, but in the end, they needed a little push. Turning to leave, I smiled, knowing my job was done.

Mission completed.