BUCKED Box Set: A Bull Rider Western Romance (25 page)

My father stopped and stared at me as
honest confusion glossed over his eyes. “What?”

I sighed, realizing that I might as well
jump into the argument that he seemed to want so badly, instead of trying to
fight against the current, which I knew from experience would simply swallow me
whole. So I demanded, matching his original volume and tone. “Tell me why you
had to bring them here, of all places! This was our special place. We could
have gone anywhere, literally, anywhere in the world, but we didn’t. We came
here. Why?”

At first, I was afraid that he was going
to scream at me. After all, he was teetering on the brink of going absolutely
insane; but instead, he bounced back and tried to actually answer my question,
instead of attacking me.

He sighed and tried to explain. “Well, we
always had good memories here, right?”

He left room for me to comment, but I felt
that would only make me feel worse, so I just widened my eyes, as though
expecting more before I would give him any kind of feedback.

He shrugged. “I just…I really thought it
would be a nice place to bond…”

“But I don’t want to bond here,” I
exclaimed, far louder than I had intended. However, before giving my father a
chance to retort my claim, I felt myself breaking down. I didn’t want to cry
now though, so I fought it. Instead, I just plead my case with him and
explained, in an irritated tone, “This was the place that mom loved most!” I
tried
to make him see, but as the thought struck me, even harder once I had said it
out loud, I was overcome with emotion. “I know that she would have rather seen
you sell it and use the money to buy your own new family getaway then to share
it with these strangers!”

At this, my father reared back. But
instead of coming back at me with fury, he seemed wounded as he plead, “They
aren’t strangers. They are our family. I know you think that I took this
decision lightly…either marrying Theresa, or coming out here for the summer,
but I didn’t. I thought about both for a really long time…and you were even
okay with it, or at least I thought you were.”

When he paused, I crossed my arms and
answered with the most honest, while still trying not to be hurtful response I
could muster. “Well, Dad, I thought I was okay with it too. I thought that
everything would be fine, but I can’t help how I feel.”

My father returned his argument a little
more indignantly. “I’m sorry, Ashley, but that just isn’t my fault. I asked
your opinion and I thought you gave it to me…”

“So, what? Now my opinion doesn’t matter?”
I spat, knowing that I shouldn’t be so petty, especially with my father, who
was slightly unstable in times like this, but I just couldn’t let the moment
pass without saying anything.

“It isn’t that your opinion doesn’t count.
Stop being so difficult. It’s just that…” he stopped then and breathed out, as
his eyes furrowed, before he answered, “It’s just that now it is too late. I
married her six months ago and we are sitting in the beach house, during summer
vacation now, so even if I wanted to correct what you think are mistakes, I
couldn’t do it anyway. Maybe next time, you’ll tell me the truth.”

I turned my head, ready to retort, but
looked at the stormy darkness welling within the pools of his eyes. I figured
that now would probably be best not to respond with anything.

So I just stared at him, until the
cloudiness in his eyes began to pass and he continued the conversation with me.
“Look…” he hissed, “maybe this isn’t your ideal vacation, but it means a lot to
me, so could you please try to give your new stepmother and stepbrother a
chance?”

My head made some motion that might have
resembled a nod, but otherwise I didn’t answer him. I was too depressed to
answer him and too hurt to continue to lie. I just stared back at him, waiting
for my father to either say something that I had to respond to, or leave.

Eventually my father chose to leave and
when he did so, I flung myself back on the bed and finally allowed myself to
cry. I quickly grasped the pillow, which made my emotions grow even fiercer,
since it still smelt the way everything used to smell, before my life was
turned upside down. I was completely devastated. I had countless fights with my
father before. That wasn’t really the issue. The point was that I was so
aggravated by his need to turn everything around, so that nothing was ever his
fault that I felt like disappearing into the bed, never to be seen again, just
so I never had to be made to feel like this.

I
should have kept my anger in check…
I thought;
you know there is no talking to him when he
is like this!

Still, I knew that no matter what had
happened, or how I had reacted, eventually, he would have pushed one too many
buttons and the result would have been the same.

I
should have never come here,
I finally decided as I
realized there was nothing he could have done over the phone that would have
made me feel as badly as I did right now, with absolutely no way to escape.

If
I was still at school, all I would have to do is hang up the phone and get on
with my real life
.
But
now, for the rest of my summer, this is my life…and I am
surer
than ever that I am going to hate it.

Chapter
4

Tyler

I thought that this was going to be easy.
I told myself that over and over again, with a cocky smile adorning my ever-so
charming and talented lips as I made my way up to Ashley’s room that night.

I had heard she had an argument with her
father, which was proven to be correct by the fact that she had refused to come
down for dinner, or anything else.

Barely seeming to notice, her father and
my mother had stared adoringly into one another’s eyes and ate their dinner as
if we were all one big happy family. If I was a caring person, it might have
bothered me, but I understood and accepted wholeheartedly that the relationship
Ashley had with her father was really none of my business. All I really cared
about was getting into those delightfully tight pants of hers. Personal matters
didn’t really concern me.

When I approached the door, I made sure
that I looked good, as always, by checking out the mirror that was conveniently
placed in the door of the hall that led into the bathroom.

It’s
almost as though this house was made to accommodate my charm,
I thought with a sneaky, toothy grin. I turned around, assured that I looked
irresistible, and knocked on her door.
The
bitch won’t even know what hit her.

“Go away!” I heard her yell through the
door and I tried not to snicker. I liked a woman with a little bit of spunk.

“Damn, girl! It’s just me, Tyler. I just
came to see if you wanted to talk about anything,” I answered in a cool, calm
and collected way.

I heard a grumble of disgust make its way
through the door before she rebuffed, “I thought you of all people would be
against running personal welfare pleas for my father…or your mother.”

“Hey, I’m cool with personal welfare, but
I am not up here because anyone told me to come. I don’t take orders from
anybody,” I answered with a slight bite to my tone. I wasn’t the least bit
insulted by what she said. In fact, I let it slide right off my back, but I
certainly couldn’t let her think I was some pussy, going around doing errands
for my mother, who doesn’t deserve the time of day, or her lovesick husband.
However, I did recognize that this girl had a lot more spunk in her than her
old man. I guess I had thought that since he was so easy to manipulate, she was
going to be some dumb blond who would bend to my every whim. After all, I am
pretty persuasive.

Yet, I was happy to see that this was
going to be a little bit more of a challenge.
That’s okay,
I thought as I rationalized it all in my head,
I need some fresh meat.

I decided to enact a little more force
behind my approach.
I grasped the door handle
and pushed my way in.

Fully clothed, unfortunately, I saw her
immediately as she leapt off the bed and screamed.

“What are you doing? Get out...”

“Nobody tells me what to do,” I answered,
sneering at her, but then shrugged, thinking that I should ease into being a
tough guy. “Shit…I just said I wanted to talk.”

“Get out, or I’ll yell for my dad and your
mom…” She raised her eyebrows, as though that was supposed to scare me.

I laughed genuinely and answered, with a
slight sense of cynicism, “They’re too busy fucking to give a damn…”

Her brow furrowed and her lips grew tight.
I wasn’t sure if it was in reaction to what I had said, or my whole demeanor,
but it amused me either way. She was so fresh, so renewed and so…delightfully
different, that seeing her like this, standing up to me, giving no indication
about her real feelings toward me, made me want to work all the harder to earn
her trust and gain entry into her bed.

However, after a few moments in what was
something of a standoff, I figured that I probably wasn’t going to get anywhere
with the way that I was acting. I decided to change my approach yet again. I
let my shoulders fall and I shrugged a careful, seemingly remorseful way and
answered with a debonair appeal, “I heard your fight with your father…” I put
my hand up, so that I could explain myself before she physically attacked me in
a way that I didn’t exactly prefer. “I get it. He can be an ass, but I just
wanted to say that if you wanted to talk to someone, other than your dad, or my
mom, someone who knows what’s up…” I then gave a reassuring smile, before I
said, “I’m always there.” I strategically turned around, but then stopped,
mid-pivot in order to tell her, “And for the record, I don’t think that being
an instant brother and sister is all that great to begin with either.” I
allowed my eyes to travel up and down her body, as though I was frisking her
with my sight, before I sneered in a devilish way and added, “Especially when
you are so damn fine.”

At this, I received a reluctant smile
before she rolled her eyes at me, but I had gotten what I had come for.

With women, it was all about the feelings.
Where I had just one goal and a million different tactics to get that one
thing, women had a million goals and only one real access point. However, like
striking gold, once a man found that sweet spot in her emotions, it could lead
him directly between her legs in a record amount of time.

Therefore, I figured I would leave her
wanting more, so I shrugged and moved out of the room.

Now,
it is time to initiate phase two,
I thought to myself as I
entered my room and closed the door slowly behind me, trying best to ignore the
sounds of her father and my mother banging on the floor below us. I wasn’t
joking with her about that fucking thing. The two of them went at it like rabbits,
but I also had a sneaking suspicion that the sex was the only thing holding
their marriage together.

However, I understood completely; I wasn’t
going to put a ring on it to prove I understood, but I wasn’t judging.

Over the course of the next week, I tried
my best to play nice and pretend that I really was a good guy.

I still refused to give up my sense of
swagger, or my focus for exercise, since no booty was worth that much to me.
After all, I still had an image to maintain, but I was nicer to her than I
would have been if I wasn’t interested; especially after all of the disrespect
she showed me.

I wasn’t used to being played, especially
not by any woman. I tried to reach out to her, but she just shot me down. Lucky
for her, I was enticed by the prospect of a challenge.

Even still, besides her quick to put down
wit and annoyingly egotistical sense of self-righteousness, she didn’t give me
much to go on.

Throughout the next week, she basically
did whatever it was she did.

After the first night when I barged in on
her, she discovered that the door locked and didn’t forget; not even once. I
made sure that every time I went by, I checked.

I wasn’t trying to be perverted or
anything, but I wouldn’t have minded getting a sneak peek at what I was working
so hard for.

However, I did find it a little bit
strange that she hardly ever talked to her father. After making it clear to
everyone that he was the only reason she was here, I would have thought that
she would have been a little keener to speak to him, or hell, even look at him.

Yet, in those rare moments when I did see
her emerging from what was basically her little cave, which had, as far as I
could tell, remained untouched, as though she was trying to preserve the memory
of something, I did notice that she wasn’t as angry as she was sad.

If I actually gave a shit, even in the
slightest, what the source of her sadness was, I might have had an inclination
to ask. But I didn’t and therefore, I tried to stay as far away from the
friend
emotional approach as possible.
She had scoffed at my offer to talk and therefore, I figured she would be the
type that would get all sappy and wet when I finally burst that protective
shield; and I didn’t want any of that.