Austin (American Extreme Bull Riders Tour Book 7)

by Jeannie Watt

  His friends followed his progress closely, since a lot of them had money riding on the deal. Of course, word had gotten to Kristen about his plan to ask her to prom, and she’d sent a short sweet message back to him.

  Tell him I don’t date losers.

  He could still recall the jaw-dropping moment when one of his rodeo buddies passed the message along with a hearty laugh and a slug in the shoulder. “She thinks you’re a loser, dude.”

  Maybe it was because of his father, who’d agonized about feeling like a loser after giving up a promising rodeo career to tend a farm that had gone bankrupt. Or maybe it was the fact that everyone and their grandmother had heard her comeback before he had, and started razzing him about it, but Austin had come close to tipping over after getting the message.

  Then he wondered if it was possible to convince her that whatever she’d heard had been taken out of context. Most likely it hadn’t, but he had to do what he could.

  With damage control in mind, he’d found her at her locker, wrestling a heavy book off the top shelf. She’d looked over her shoulder at him and froze, eyes wide, lips parted. Classic deer in the headlights.

  “Austin.”

  He’d reached out to take the book off the shelf and hand it to her. “I heard you called me a loser.” He spoke easily, as if it was no big deal and he was giving her a chance to explain, but people passing by in the hall started to slow their steps. Some came to a standstill. Fine. If she’d called him a loser because of his melt-the-ice-princess remark, then he’d apologize in front of witnesses. Make it right.

  Kristen shot a look at the growing crowd and then tilted her chin up. Pressed her full lips tightly together. Refused to answer.

  “Did you call me a loser?” Austin asked again. “Because if you did, you should own up to it.”

  Her face had gone totally red. “I did.” The quiet words seemed to ring through the hallway.

  “Why?” A clear opening for her to mention his campfire boast, and thus a chance for him to apologize and maybe even salvage this situation. She didn’t answer immediately, so he’d asked again. “Why?”

  She glanced at the crowd as if looking for a means of escape. There wasn’t one, so she’d swallowed dryly, then tilted up her chin and said defiantly, “Because you act like one.”

  The words had felt like ice water hitting him in the face. “What?”

  “You don’t go to class, you drink too much, you have no goals. You’re wasting time when you could be achieving something. You swagger around like you own the school, but you don’t respect what goes on here. You act like a loser.”

  Austin had stared at her, stunned. Kristen, who never talked, was talking now, and he didn’t like what she had to say.

  “I’m not a loser.” The words had come gritting out from between his teeth. He was a high school rodeo champion, for fuck’s sake, but apparently that didn’t count.

  She’d hadn’t said another word; in fact, she’d looked as if she wanted to melt into the floor, then she’d pressed the book he’d handed to her against her chest, slammed her locker and pushed her way into the crowd, which parted to let her through.

  He could still recall the heat in his face as he fought to look as if it were her loss, then turned without a word and walked in the opposite direction, shoulders square, back straight.

  But inwardly he was shaken.

  All this time he’d been trying to charm his way into her good graces, and she’d thought he was a loser. Shit. Who else thought that? And if they hadn’t, did they now?

  Austin had never thought of himself as having a fragile ego, but he had been damned glad that graduation was only a month away, because that confrontation had changed the way he felt about himself, school. Kristen.

  And his buddies, being the kind of guys they were, didn’t let him forget that Kristen Alexander had called him out for being a loser. In their defense, they’d had no idea that he hadn’t shaken off the incident—or that her remarks had cut deeply, making him wonder if he really was a loser. He didn’t have goals, other than graduation and rodeos, certainly had no long-term plan for the future. That had seemed pretty loser-like.

  The craziest part of the situation was that the confrontation had led to him becoming friends with Kristen’s twin, Whitney, who’d looked him up the day after the confrontation. She’d made no excuses for her sister; had simply wanted to check on him. And eventually, after most of their graduating class left Marietta, moving on to better and brighter things, they’d become friends.

  Austin turned away from the window and sat on the bed, where he pulled off his new boots: first one, then the other, letting them fall to the floor. The ice packs he’d jammed into the small fridge were cold and he slapped one on his shoulder and another on his hip before reaching for the remote.

  Big event tomorrow. It was time for a win. He’d made decent money on the tour thus far, and had avoided serious injury; for the most part, he’d only aggravated old injuries and that he could live with, especially with four long months stretching ahead of him. But he hadn’t won yet.

  Kristen wouldn’t be there to see it, but he was going to show the world what a winner looked like.

  Chapter Three

  Kristen decided to wait until Sunday to call her parents, a time when her dad wasn’t on shift at the hospital and her mother wasn’t busy with her many volunteer projects. That way she could talk to them together. Of course, she would call Whitney first—test the waters. Endure twin wrath, because Whit was not going to be happy.

  She woke up feeling edgy and out of sorts, but told herself she’d feel better once this was all behind her. She was not a secret keeper. Should have never tried. Now she would be free of her secret, so maybe meeting Austin in the Silver Bow hadn’t been the worst thing in the world.

  No. It had been.

  She could have gone a long time without facing off with the man, and damn him for still being sexy. Kristen was certain that she’d dreamed about him that night, though she couldn’t remember anything specific. It wasn’t the first time that had happened. Austin had haunted her dreams and her fantasy life during high school, leaving her feeling frustrated and confused. Irritated with herself.

  She’d had big plans, which meant she had no business being attracted to a guy with no goals. A guy who didn’t care about his future enough to regularly attend classes. A charismatic risk taker who didn’t follow strict plans or fit into a neat box—both of which characterized her life. Strict plans. Neat boxes.

  But what if he changed? What if he became more serious? Noticed her? Liked her?

  Changed for her.

  Her knack for mathematics told her that the odds were not in her favor, even if he had talked to her a time or two, and helped her with spilled papers in the hall. After the paper incident, her Austin awareness had intensified, as had the guilt for being attracted to him in the first place. He was not her type, didn’t fit into her world…but she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

  The push and pull continued throughout their senior year, right up until one of her friends had announced that Austin had called her an ice princess—he was asking her to prom to see if he could melt her.

  Melt her.

  There was no mistaking what her friends thought “melting” entailed, and she’d been beyond embarrassed thinking about Austin laughing about her with his friends. Had he figured out that he was the object of her fantasies? Was he ridiculing her?

  In the face of that horror, Kristen had done the only thing she could and sent her message via the Marietta School grapevine, which had done its work in its usual efficient fashion. Austin was a loser and she wanted nothing to do with him. Thus, the face-off and thus the most mortifying moment of her life.

  Thank you, Austin.

  Five hours later, Kristen parked her roommate’s car in her usual spot and headed for the rear entrance of the casino, where she and Austin had their uncomfortable confrontation the night before. Her first indication that someth
ing was wrong was when Deke glanced down instead of making eye contact as she walked past his office on her way to punch in. The second was when Hanna, her manager, came into the staff room and told her not to bother changing from her flats into her torturous bootie shoes.

  Kristen blinked at her. “Is there a problem?”

  Hanna gave a slow nod. “This isn’t working, Kristen.” There was no note of apology in her voice. She was stating a fact.

  “I don’t understand.” She was only six days into her probationary two weeks.

  “When there’s an issue with a customer, your options are to either see me to resolve it, or to muscle through. That is a non-negotiable. Yesterday, you did neither. You ignored the table until they left, which tells me that you either don’t understand, or don’t care about, customer protocol and the reputation of the Silver Bow Casino.”

  “It was one incident.”

  Hanna’s mouth tightened. “It’s more than that. You aren’t comfortable with the customers, Kristen. It shows.”

  “I’m polite with all the customers.”

  “You’re distant. You don’t smile.” Hanna spoke as if that were a major crime.

  Maybe she didn’t smile as much as she should, but she wasn’t unpleasant. She was trying to smile. “I’ll improve if you give me another chance.” She’d smile her butt off, even at the people who said rude things to her if it kept a paycheck coming in.

  Hanna gave her a weary look. “I don’t see this getting better, and it’s not fair to the rest of the staff to keep you on the off chance it will. I need to hire someone suited to the position sooner rather than later. HR has already been informed and will mail you your final check.”

  She hadn’t even gotten a first check.

  “Hanna…”

  “I’m sorry, Kristen. Gather your things. Deke will make certain you get out of the building okay.” As if leaving the building okay was an issue. He was going to make certain she left without making a scene.

  Feeling numb, Kristen shouldered her tote bag and followed Hanna out of the staff room. Deke was waiting at the hallway leading to the parking lot entrance, hands on his utility belt.

  “You’re lucky,” he said in a low voice as she passed in front of him. “The last girl they let go, they did it at the end of her shift.”

  “At least she got the shift.” Kristen’s stomach was so tight she thought she was going to puke.

  “This isn’t the right job for you.”

  “Obviously.” But it had been a job.

  As she pushed her way out through the exit, she barely held back the tears. She was a flat-out failure. More than that, she was a double failure.

  The heavy metal door shut behind her and there she was. Alone in a parking lot. No job. No future. She closed her eyes, pulled in a long breath. Her tote bag felt heavy on her shoulder. Hell, the world felt heavy on her shoulders.

  She didn’t know what to do. Her reserves were shot. Her savings were low. Her grapevine was dried and withered. She’d pulled in what had seemed like her last favor to get this job and now she had no job.

  Was she going to have to go home and sponge off her family until she got back on her feet? That hurt. A lot.

  And she’d have to ship her stuff home—not that she had a lot that wasn’t in storage, but there was more than she could fit into a couple of suitcases. Maybe she could rent a truck.

  A quick internet search after she’d gotten into her borrowed car told her no, she would not be doing that.

  Not without calling Whitney and asking for a loan. And explaining why she needed it. That would be a painful talk. Things had been stilted between them the last couple of times they’d spoken. Her sister knew that something was off, but Kristen had stonewalled. Told her everything was fine. She’d been over three weeks into unemployment at that point and certain she’d land a new job soon.

  Yeah. That had really worked out.

  As soon as she got home, Kristen called her sister. Confessed everything. Whitney did not take the news well.

  “Now wait…one more time. You’ve been out of work for how long?”

  Kristen pressed her palm to her forehead. The call was as painful as she’d predicted—maybe more so—because her sister was just this side of livid. She’d explained about taking an interim job, and about how she’d run into Austin, but Whitney was bypassing all that and latching on to the fact that her closest relative in the world hadn’t poured out her troubles as she’d gone through them.

  “Whit…you guys were dealing with Dad’s accident and I thought I was going to land a job in no time.”

  “And when that didn’t happen? When Dad got better and the weeks stretched on?”

  “It felt like it was too late to confess.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’d lied by omission for too long,” Kristen blurted. “Surely you can understand that?”

  “No. I don’t think that I can. It’s…unacceptable.” Whitney let out an audible sigh. “I would have told you!”

  “You don’t know that.” Because a year ago, Kristen never would have seen herself doing what she’d done.

  “Yeah. I do. Because you’re my sister and I’d damned well be asking you for help if I got into a bind.”

  “You know that for sure?”

  “I do.”

  They could argue about what Whitney may or may not have done all day, so Kristen pushed on to her main source of worry. “I don’t know how to tell Mom.”

  “Well, you’d better think of something.” The words practically spit sparks.

  “Whitney—”

  “I can’t help it. I’m pissed.”

  “I’m coming home.” She had to talk to her mom face to face and, like it or not, she needed sanctuary. She needed the safety of home.

  “You do that. I’ll lie to Mom until you get here.”

  “Damn it, Whit—”

  “No. You don’t get a ‘damn it’. And you don’t get to be angry. You get to eat humble pie and get your ass home.”

  Now Kristen sighed. “I will.”

  “Let me know when you leave…and how you’re traveling. I want dates and times.”

  Those were orders. “Yes.” Whit still felt protective, but she wasn’t going to make things easier for her. Not until she cooled down anyway. That worked, because Kristen didn’t want things easy. She felt like crap and she needed to pay some penance.

  The connection ended and Kristen found herself holding a dead phone to her ear.

  One enraged sister to deal with when she got home. To be followed by trusting parents, who would be no happier to have been kept in the dark than Whit had been.

  It’s your life. You’re an adult.

  True, but she hadn’t acted like one. Now she needed to go home, do damage control. Get her life back on track…somehow.

  The bus schedule was a nightmare. The ticket cost close to two hundred dollars, which she didn’t have because the Silver Bow hadn’t paid her yet, and the trip took forty-three hours. She could get as far as Butte in twenty-three hours, and then she had to wait twenty hours to transfer to another bus for the three-hour trip to Marietta.

  That made a hell of a lot of sense.

  Who did she know in Butte who might give her a ride to Marietta? She’d lost contact with her old friends during the years she’d been to college and started her job. Most of her closest friends were off conquering worlds in far-flung cities. And they probably still had jobs.

  “I tallied it up.” Her roommate, Lynn, came out of her bedroom and set a paper on the table. “I’m sorry you’re paying for next month’s rent, but it’s too late to get someone else and you know I can’t swing this alone.”

  Kristen didn’t expect her to.

  “That’s okay. I need a place to keep my stuff until I make arrangements to take it…somewhere.” Presumably back home.

  “I’ll prorate the rent if things move faster.” Lynn was trying hard to help and Kristen appreciated the feeling of supp
ort.

  Kristen worked up a smile. “You’ve been great. I wouldn’t have been able to work for six whole days if you hadn’t lent me your car.”

  Lynn smiled back and reached out to touch Kristen’s arm, which brought her close to breaking point. She was going home with her tail between her legs, to make peace with her sister and to confess to her parents. The winner was going home a loser. She’d made one poor decision after another after being laid off and it had all caught up with her.

  “How did things go with your sister?”

  “Not good. And I can’t blame her. I broke trust. Now I need to smooth the waters. In person.”

  “You’re going home now?”

  “I…think I’d better. For the sake of family relations.” And her finances. She couldn’t keep living in the city.

  “If you can’t make it back before the end of May, Jason and I will pack up for you. Take your stuff to storage.”

  “I’ll make it back.” She had almost forty days to figure out what to do with the storage warehouse full of the furniture she’d bought during what she now thought of as ‘the good times’—the time when she was employed. She could probably borrow a truck and trailer from her Marvell cousins and put things in storage on their ranch. Or she could sell it, but that would take time.

  Lynn took a seat on the other side of the table, moving aside the vase of colored daisies to make room for her elbows. The flowers, coupled with the golden glow of the setting sun slanting in through the blinds, made the apartment feel warm and cheery—the antithesis of Kristen’s life. “How are you getting home?” Lynn asked.

  “The bus.” She explained the trip without mentioning the part where she was going to use the last of her available cash for the ticket, focusing instead on the ridiculous twenty-hour layover, which she’d probably end up enduring, to pay penance, if nothing else.