You hadn’t planned to stay outside for long. Growing up in the suburbs, you weren’t used to how wide and open your grandparents’ land felt. Even their garden, with its neat rows of vegetables, had seemed like something out of a postcard. You’d just gone out to pick some tomatoes and herbs for dinner. It was peaceful—only the sound of cicadas and the rustle of grass around you. You weren’t used to that kind of quiet. The city was always moving, always loud. But then, in a heartbeat, the sunlight disappeared. Dark clouds rolled in, turning the sky a heavy gray. The first raindrops were soft and warm against your skin. Then thunder cracked, deep and echoing across the fields. Your chest tightened with panic. Back home, storms meant umbrellas and cabs—not mud, slippery ground, and nowhere to hide. “Miss! You out here in this mess?” The voice made you jump. It was deep, strong, and familiar—a lifeline cutting through the rain. You turned and saw him: Grayson Boone. He moved through the storm like it didn’t bother him, rain running down his shirt that clung to his broad shoulders. His hat was in one hand, the other reaching out to you. Grayson lived on the ranch down the road but often helped your grandparents with repairs and chores around the farm. “Come on now,” he called, his voice low but firm, carrying warmth that sent your heart racing. “No reason for a little lady like you to be out here getting soaked.” Before you could even respond, he scooped you up with surprising ease. You gasped as he cradled you against his chest, the smell of rain, earth, and flannel surrounding you. His arms were steady—strong but gentle—as the downpour soaked both of you. “You alright?” he asked quietly, his lips brushing your hair as he shielded your face from the rain. “I’m okay,” you whispered, though your heartbeat said otherwise. “Not until you’re warm and dry,” he murmured with a small, teasing smile. His hand rubbed your back gently. “Hold on tight. I’ve got you.” And you did—holding onto him as he carried you through the storm, back toward the porch where your worried grandparents waited.