Flirt: Bad Boy Romance

by Ashley Hall

  “Come in,” I called. I was lying on my bed, and I sat up as the door opened.

  Jacqueline entered. “How are you?”

  “All right.”

  “I didn’t see you at breakfast.” She stayed by the door.

  “Wasn’t hungry.” I shrugged.

  “I hope you’re hungry now,” she said lightly. “Lunch is ready.”

  “All right,” I repeated.

  Her smile looked sad. Aw, was I hurting her feelings? Couldn’t help not caring. She’d done me enough damage by being way. I’d survived. If I ever were to let her back in, and she disappointed me or worse, I’d survive again, but I wouldn’t ever be able to trust anyone ever again.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked, staring at the floor.

  “Nothing.” I didn’t want anything from her. I didn’t need anything from her. Didn’t need Walter or his money either. I’d find a way to get myself my bike.

  Just five more months. That’s all.

  “Come on down. You can start to get to know everyone.”

  But what if I don’t want to?

  Although my head didn’t want to, my stomach did. I was starving, and the lunch was for me, so I got out of bed and followed her downstairs. The spread of food was as impressive as it had been for the party yesterday. It was amazing that no one living here was obese. I doubted this all was a show for me. They probably ate like this all the time.

  Jacqueline gestured for me to sit at the foot of the table, across from Walter. I didn’t want the place of honor, but I couldn’t refuse. Most of the seats at the table were already claimed anyhow.

  I pulled out the seat. No one else was sitting yet, so I stood by the chair.

  Jacqueline followed me and touched the back of the chair to my right. “This is Peter. He’s eleven. And next to him is—”

  “I’m Paul. I’m nine. I’ll be ten soon. Are you going to get me a present?”

  The two boys from earlier. They looked like trouble to me.

  “Paul! You don’t ask someone that. I’m sorry. They’re mine. Yvonne.” The brunette was strapping a baby into a high chair. “This little one is Penelope. She’s almost six months already.”

  My head was swimming already. Wait, was Penelope the baby who got baptized? I really should start paying more attention.

  “In case you forgot my name,” the woman from the bathroom spoke up, “it’s Roslyn. My daughter, April, will be joining us soon. She had to run to work this morning to get her paycheck. She’s eighteen, like you.”

  “Great,” I muttered. Couldn’t we sit down and eat already?

  Walter cleared his throat. “Let’s say grace.”

  Grace? They prayed? I stopped praying a long time ago. Since none of my prayers were ever answered, I stopped seeing the need to.

  Walter bowed his head, hands clasped. “Dear Lord, bless our food, our friends, our family. Touch our lives and bring us happiness. Thank you for allowing Wesley to join us. Amen.”

  “Amen,” everyone else echoed.

  No one seemed to notice I didn’t say it too. I was glad no one noticed because if they would’ve asked me to say it too, I would’ve refused, and that would’ve been the first blow up. But if they ignored me, maybe things wouldn’t be too bad here after all. I could be free to do my own thing, and that would be that.

  Somehow, though, I had a feeling that wouldn’t be the case.

  After Walter sat, everyone else did too. He served himself, and then everyone else was able to. It felt so old-fashioned and kind of medieval. What was he, a king everyone else in the family had to bow down to and look up to? Because he hadn’t shown me any reason to deserve all of this. In my mind, respect and all that had to be earned. Which was why I didn’t respect anyone. No one gave a guy like me a chance ever, so they treated me like crap. And if you treated me like crap, I shoveled crap back in your face. Simple as that.

  The food was delicious, and I ate well, choosing to chew over talk. It was so nice to not have anyone glare at me if I helped myself to seconds, or for the food to be rationed. The boys fought then laughed and fought some more. Jacqueline and Yvonne and Roslyn were talking among themselves, with Walter talking to them occasionally. For lunch being in my honor, everyone was giving me space, or else maybe they didn’t know what to talk to me about, just like I didn’t know what to talk to them about. Silence served my just fine. Give me the food and—

  “So, Wesley…” Jacqueline said.

  Just when I was enjoying being left alone. Of course.

  “Yeah?” I asked after swallowing a too-large mouthful.

  “Walter’s a head accountant. Isn’t that wonderful?” she gushed.

  “Sure,” I muttered. What did I care?

  “What do you think you want to be?” Walter asked.

  I didn’t like the way he was eyeing me—as if I had already disappointed him. What the hell? He didn’t know me. Who was he to judge me?

  I shrugged. It wasn’t too hard to figure out that they wouldn’t approve of my future plans. Not that I thought they deserved the right to have an opinion on my future plans. This place was just another stopgap for me. I’d be leaving here soon enough, and then maybe I could finally find a place to call home and settle down.

  “It’s possible to do anything, be anything.” Walter puffed out his chest. “You can do anything you want.”

  In his case, he did everyone he wanted. Three wives. Two weren’t enough for him. He had to have one more. What was stopping him from taking another one?

  And his words rang so hollow. You can do anything you want. He didn’t mean it. Not for me at least. Maybe for his sons, though. Man, as much as I hated my dad, I was already glad Walter hadn’t raised me. He was so uptight and rigid, and he just felt fake. The chances we would’ve come to blows if I had spent my life growing up with him was really high.

  “It’s going to take some getting used to,” Walter was saying. Clearly he loved to hear himself talk, and I couldn’t help noticing that everyone else at the table had fallen quiet, listening to us talk.

  “What is?” I asked. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like the answer.

  “Our house, our lifestyle, our rules.” He ticked each word off with a thick finger.

  Rules? I never did well with rules. And he was obviously a stickler for them. Great. Something else that might become a source of contention between us. I was already feeling like this was a huge mistake, and nothing about this lunch was making me feel much better.

  Before he could expand on his statement—not that I wanted to hear more—a girl walked into the dining room. Not just any girl. The girl from yesterday at the baptism. Blondie.

  “April.” Roslyn beamed. Maybe April was hers. “So glad you could join us for Wesley’s lunch.”

  April stared at me with her large blue eyes. “I’m sorry I’m late.” Her smile was shy and small, but it made her look pretty.

  I smiled back. So Blondie was a step-sibling after all. I didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hand, I’d definitely be seeing her a lot more, but on the other hand, we were kind of related.

  April took her seat beside her mom. She prayed silently and then served herself some food. She ate daintily. Kind of fun to watch her eat, especially since she kept looking my way and then at her plate. The girl liked me. I could tell. At least someone here at the table did.

  “I moved to the outskirts of Utah to be able to live my life the way I want to,” Walter said, continuing our conversation as if he hadn’t been interrupted. I noticed he hadn’t bothered to greet April. Was he muffed she showed up late? “Some might think my Mormon life is radical, but it suits me. It suits us. We’re happy, and we’re comfortable. There’s more than enough room for you too, Wesley.”

  I nodded. Sure. Whatever. I made it this far without a family. Doubted I needed one now. And just what where those rules he’d mentioned earlier? Rules I’d most likely be ignoring.

  “To keep everyone happy, the
re are rules, like I said.” Walter lowered his fork and stared me down. I didn’t blink. The boys were talking, the baby babbling, but everyone else had grown quiet and was looking at me. “We live a traditional lifestyle.”

  It took everything in me not to snort. Traditional? Really? Who was he kidding? Pretty sure traditional meant two point five kids and a white picket fence, not three wives.

  “We always say grace before breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Church on Sunday is a must. It’s important to remember God. He is most important, more than you. More than any of us. And everyone has a list of chores they have to complete.”

  “Chores?” I repeated dully. I hated chores. Didn’t all teens? And church? I really had to go every week? Why? Shouldn’t that be my choice? Because that would be a big fat nope.

  “Yes,” Walter said calmly. “I think taking out the garbage can be one of your chores. You’ll have to help Paul and Peter. They don’t always remember to separate out the recyclables. And…”

  He kept on talking. The garbage? Really? The amount of trash a family this size had to produce had to be impressive.

  “Dusting. Maybe vacuuming too,” he continued.

  What the hell? Did the guy think I was a maid? I was fuming. No way could I keep quiet about my feelings on all of this. Creating a scene probably wouldn’t help my cause any, but waiting would only make things worse. If I just blindly accepted his chores and rules, he’d expect me to keep them, and I had a firm opinion on all that.

  I pushed back my chair and stood.

  April did too. “Can I be excused to show Wesley my garden?” she asked before I could start my tirade. She smiled at me. “We don’t have to talk about chores right now, do we?”

  Walter pursed his lips then nodded. “Go ahead.” He didn’t sound too pleased though. Probably wanted to delegate more chores on me.

  Her smile grew wider, and she ushered me out of the room.

  Once we got outside, she said, “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “I understand. This all is new and different. It’s not what you expected.”

  Major understatement.

  “Not by a long shot,” I said.

  She headed to the east side of the house. A small garden was there, outlined with rocks. The flowers were vibrant and tall, obviously well cared for. “I’m going to help you as much as I can until you graduate.”

  Simple words to say, but did she mean it? She seemed nice enough, but I could read her like a book. If there was a choice between helping me or siding with her family, family would win every time.

  A lot of people had blind loyalty to their families. That was something I never had a chance to ever develop and probably never would.

  “I just…” I shook my head. “You accept all of that?”

  “What? The chores?” She grinned. She was cute and pretty, but she could be so much more than a girl groomed to be a 1950s kind of wife.

  “I don’t mind chores. I guess. It’s…”

  Obviously she accepted it, her mom, the sister wives, all of it. To her, it was normal. To me, it was insane.

  “Dad…Walter’s not as bad as you think. Give him a chance. Give us a chance,” she urged. She bent down and touched the petals of one of her flowers. “You’ll see. It’s a perfect house. It might not be conventional, but it works for us.”

  “Religion, polygamy…” I tried not to scoff. “That’s perfect in your world?”

  “In this house,” she corrected.

  Did that mean she didn’t want to be polygamous herself? Why was I worried about her thoughts on that? Yeah, she was hot, but she was also my step-sister. And the whole trust issue…I could count the number of people I trusted on one finger. Me.

  April smiled at me again. She had a killer smile. Maybe I should give her a chance. I definitely needed someone in my corner in this huge house. Otherwise, it was going to be a terrible five months.

  “You’ll help me?” I asked suspiciously. Why did she want to help me? Just because she was a good, wholesome girl? Or because her daddy had her spying on me? Only time would tell.

  “With anything you need.” Her smile grew.

  I just had to smile back. I’d give her a chance. Why not? What did I have to lose?

  Chapter Three

  I avoided everyone as much as I could—or at least I tried to avoid everyone. For as big as the house was, it was nearly impossible to have any privacy. Whenever I saw anyone, they all had so many questions for me—about my past, about my present, about my future. They were all so damned nosey, and I didn’t feel like sharing. The past was better off ignored. The present, well, I doubted anyone wanted to hear about how I hated the idea of being stuck here for five months. And as for the future, no way was I going to share my plans. Not with Walter thinking college might be in store for me. No way could I afford higher education. And it wouldn’t feel right to take his money for it, if he would even offer. Besides, I knew what I wanted out of life, and I didn’t need an expensive piece of paper for that.

  Sleep didn’t come easy that night. The bed just didn’t feel right. When you were used to sleeping on couches or the floor or beds with zero support, a comfy bed just wasn’t comfortable. I woke up in a foul mood, still exhausted. The boys ran away when I opened my door. Maybe I startled them. Or maybe they saw the look on my face.

  I walked downstairs and headed for the dining room, but Walter cornered me in the parlor. Yes, the parlor. Jacqueline called the room that. A bunch of couches and chairs and tables. Some bookcases. No TVs or computers. Just a place to sit and talk. Or be talked at, which was what I had the feeling would be the case with Walter.

  My first impulse was to walk away, but I didn’t. Five months was a decent amount of time. I didn’t want to get on his bad side right off the bat, but something about the stern look on his face had me thinking he was going to be getting on my bad side. Great. Just what I wanted this morning.

  “Wesley, do you have a minute?” he asked, his tone suggesting that I didn’t have a choice. I already hated that tone.

  “No,” was on the tip of my tongue, but I said, “Yes.” Kind of mumbled it, but it was all he was getting.

  “Good.” Walter didn’t quite smile. He looked like a burly bear, and not the cute cuddly kind girls loved. “We have a strict house schedule. Yesterday, you didn’t come down for breakfast, so maybe you didn’t know, but we always eat together at six thirty. Every morning.”

  I glanced at my watch. It was always ten minutes slow. Even when I tried to correct it. I was lucky to have one in the first place. A hand-me-down. Never would’ve bought one for myself. Right now, it was eight. Eight was early for me on weekends and days off of school as it was, and he wanted me to get up even earlier?

  “Six thirty?” I repeated, trying not to sound disrespectful. “Isn’t that a little early?”

  Walter wrinkled his nose. “Roslyn has to leave for work at seven. Plus, April leaves for school at seven fifteen. You will be leaving then too. School is important. You can’t risk being late, especially tomorrow.”

  My first day at a new school. Happy, happy, joy, joy.

  I really didn’t need that much time to get ready for school, but maybe I shouldn’t argue about this. There was bound to be other more important issues down the line.

  “It’s imperative that we all eat breakfast and dinner together every day,” he continued, wagging a finger at me. “Without fail.”

  What the hell? Was this guy for real?

  “Bonding, right?” I asked in my fake I-give-a-damn voice.

  “Yes, for bonding,” he said, nodding and smiling as if I was a good boy and deserved a treat, “and because we want to. Family is most important. More than school or chores or friends. Family always comes first.”

  I managed to suppress a snort. Family. Ha. As if Jacqueline really gave a damn about me. For years she left me to rot. Looked like she was doing just fine without me during those same years. She had a large enough family wit
hout me, considering her husband, the sister wives, and all of the kids. Did they even need me? Did I even want to be a part of their strange family?

  For five months, I didn’t have a choice in the matter. That made me so happy.

  Not.

  “Let me guess,” I said. “If I’m late to a meal, I don’t get to eat.”

  Wouldn’t be the first time that happened to me. Lots of other families had that rule. A crappy one, especially when there wasn’t enough food for everyone as it was. In this house, there was more than enough food for all of us and for every foster family I’d been stuck in over the years. Kind of made me sick to think they would refuse to feed someone like that. What did it really matter if someone was a few minutes late? What if they overslept or were sick or something?