SEAL's Baby (Navy SEAL Secret Baby Romance) (56 page)

I was worried at first that being back in
this lifestyle would make him want to drink or start using drugs again, but as
far as I know, those two glasses of champagne in the restaurant almost a year
ago were his last. I’ve heard him turn down a beer when he didn’t even know I
was listening and for all of that, I was proud of him and I made a point to
tell him so often. I was sitting in the stands waiting for the rodeo to start
today when I heard the sound of his deep voice come on over the loudspeaker.

 
“Ladies and gentleman, thank you for coming
out to Mesquite today for the 94
^th
annual rodeo! We have a great
show for you today. We’re starting off with some bull-riding and I have to tell
you as a former rider, I’m both excited and nervous for our first cowboy. Mike
Henry hails from Butte, Montana, and he’s been riding bulls since he was nine
years old. He’s in the running for the NFR in December and I have to tell y’all
I think he’s a shoe-in…but that’s not what I’m excited and nervous for him
about. Today, ladies and gents, Mike Henry has drawn Catastrophe.”

He paused and let the gasps and moans in
the audience die down before he went on, “That’s right folks, the 2,300 pound
Brahma bull has left a bloody trail across the grounds of the PRCA. Mike hasn’t
ever had the luck, call it good or bad, of drawing Catastrophe before. This
bull has never been ridden in almost a hundred rides, but his bad reputation
comes not from that, but the fact that he’s a sore winner. Our rodeo clowns are
the best – and with this bull, they have to be. Anyone that dares to get on
Catastrophe’s back becomes his next target – and he rarely misses.”

Back when Dylan was riding the circuit, he
used to talk about riding Catastrophe. He was cocky enough to believe that he
could be the first cowboy to ride him. I hoped the stories I’d heard about him
were legends like the “Big, Blue Ox.” I thought about the stories I’d heard as
a kid about Lane Frost. He was another cocky cowboy who died at the same age
Dylan is now trying to do the same thing with a different bull. I was glad
Dylan had never drawn Catastrophe and even though I didn’t know this Mike
Henry, I was nervous for him today, too.

“And here he comes, ladies and gentleman.
Look at those muscles!” They didn’t usually start the bull from the arena, but
Catastrophe was such a legend that he’d probably drawn half of this crowd
today. He strutted around in a circle like he knew he was a bad-ass, stopping
in front of the announcer’s deck to give Dylan and the two judges on either
side of him a stern look. I could see Dylan with his hand over the microphone
first saying something to the bull and then laughing with the judges. I was
thankful once again he didn’t ride anymore. Catastrophe was calm as long as
they let him strut his stuff on his own, but as soon as they headed him for the
chute, the explosive beast came unhinged. It took them several tries, a lot of
manpower and a lot of rope to get him where they wanted him.

The crowd went dead silent as we watched
Mike Henry slip down onto Catastrophe’s back. The bull was becoming violent as
they strapped in Mike’s hand. I had to wonder what compelled a man to want to
get on the back of a beast that would just as soon kill him as look at him. I
pressed my hands into my stomach and tried to quell the butterflies there. I
had no idea why this bull is provoking so much anxiety in me.

Dylan started talking again, “You know, I
retired about a year ago. I watched old Catastrophe for six years waiting for
it to be my turn. Now when I look at him, all I feel is a pang of regret in my
heart that he and I didn’t get to tangle up.”
Oh, Dylan…

“A lot of guys have drawn him and then
just walked away, when I’d have given my right arm for that ride.” I shook my
head and looked over in the direction of the chute. It was still chaos.
Catastrophe was not being cooperative and I wondered if Mike Henry was going to
even make it out of the chute. Catastrophe seemed determined to not let that
happen. A tug on the rope dropped open the chute and man and beast came
tumbling out. I held my breath and watched with my hand close to my eyes so I
could cover them at the last minute if I had to.

Two big clowns stood in the center of the
arena and several of the cowboys sat on the fence ready to dive in and help out
if needed. There was still a big hush in the stands and when I looked over at
Dylan I saw that his eyes were wide with excitement and he was leaning in hard
to get a good view of the action. It was over in a matter of seconds.

Catastrophe spun to the right and for a
second, Henry was with him. He was hanging off too far, but just about to pull
himself upright when that damned big bull started spinning. He literally
brought his two-thousand-pound body off the ground about two or maybe even
three feet each time he spun. Three seconds into the ride, Mike Henry went
flying into the gates.

The second he hit the gate, before he’d
even slunk down to the ground, Catastrophe had his head down and was moving in.
The rodeo clowns were doing their best to distract him, but it was like all
that bull could see was the cowboy that had dared to try and ride him. Mike
Henry made it over the arena fence just as Catastrophe’s horn grazed the back
of one of his calves. He was lucky. I glanced over at Dylan again, wondering
why he wasn’t saying anything overhead. That’s when I saw that his eyes still
held that child-like kind of wonder in them as he looked at that damned bull –
and that’s when I started to figure out what it was about this creature that
made me so nervous.

*******

That night, Dylan and I lay in our RV
after we made love and I was just about to drift off to sleep when he said, “I
want to ride again.”

I sat straight up. “What? You want to do
what?”

“I want to ride. I hate sitting there and
watching. I want the chance to draw Catastrophe and…”

“And what? And get a fractured skull? You
like the idea of having a horn shoved into your back or your chest? You want to
be paralyzed? Or dead?”

He waited for me to finish my tirade and
then he said, “I’m not an amateur, baby.”

“Really? How many cowboys have been
permanently maimed or killed who weren’t amateurs?”

He sat up and leaned into the headboard.
“Why did you never get upset before when I was riding?”

“I did, Dylan. I used to ask you to quit
all the time. You were usually drunk and we’d get in a fight over it, then you
would go ahead and leave. You have a wife now and we have a future planned.
When are you going to grow up?”

I could tell by the look on his face that
that had pushed his buttons. “Grow up? You think this is a job for little boys?
My dad rode until he was forty-two years old. He made a damned fortune doing
it, too. We aren’t out here playing, Amber. This is a serious business.”

“It’s a business for men who don’t want a
home and a responsibility. It’s for men who want to go out in the yard and play
like little boys and get that adrenaline rush it gives them.”

“Oh, I see, you want a man who puts on a
monkey suit and goes to an office every day. You want a man like that little
freak Kyle…”

“Dylan, don’t go there. This has
absolutely nothing to do with Kyle.”

“Why? That’s what you want, right? I can
buy a bunch of three piece suits and go have my hair done and drive a fancy
little sports car…oh, and don’t forget my gym membership. That way my muscles
will be cut in all the right places – not like these that come from being a
real man.”

I started to get out of bed, but he
grabbed my arm. “Let go of me! I hate the way you think you can just put your
hands on me whenever you feel like it.”

“When I finish,” he said with his voice
low and kind of threatening. “I’m not a sissy boy like your little friend who
has to walk with a cane. I’m a real man and if you can’t handle that, then
maybe you should go home and look him up.”

I honestly hadn’t thought about Kyle in a
long time, not while I was awake, anyways. I still saw him in my dreams and
there was nothing “sissy” about him. It pissed me off like crazy when Dylan
threw him in my face and insulted him. Kyle had been through a year of hell
before Dylan ever met him and he was still nothing like what Dylan tried to
make of him. But I had to bite my tongue because I knew that he was just trying
to goad me into it so he could use that against me, too.

Now that Dylan brought him up, though, I
was thinking about him again and wondering if I made the wrong decision. My
heart still hurt when I think about him. Every time Dylan says something stupid
like this, I almost regret sticking by him. I wrenched my arm out of Dylan’s
grasp and went over to the closet. I grabbed out my bag and started pulling my
clothes down and stuffing them inside. “What are you doing?” he said.

“I’m going home, like you told me to.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“What are you going to do, Dylan? Are you
going to be a big man and hold me hostage?” He threw back the covers and for a
second when he came towards me, I felt that tingle of fear run down my spine. I
was always the first one to tell my family that he would never hurt me, but to
be honest with myself, when he got this angry, I just wasn’t sure.

“Put the stuff away, Amber. Damn it, we
were just talking!”

“We were and then you had to get ugly.”

“You sure are protective of that sissy
boy. Are you sure you’re not still in love with him?”

I was still in love with him, but I’d
stuffed all that because I made a commitment to Dylan. I didn’t let Kyle come
between us and I was never the one who
 
brought him up, so how dare Dylan throw him into our argument where he
didn’t belong? “Our argument has nothing to do with Kyle. You want to use him
as a distraction to take the heat off of you. I’m not that naïve. I know that
this is about you not wanting to grow up. I don’t want a husband with a broken
neck…and I don’t want to be a widow. You married me and promised me a life with
you and kids. You can’t give that to me if you’re riding the circuit, even if
you don’t get hurt.”

“Shit, come here.” He reached for me, but
I didn’t move into his arms. He thinks he can say or do whatever he wants to
and then just hug it all away. Some things can’t be hugged away. He finally put
his arms down and said, “Don’t cry. I’ll keep announcing and judging…maybe, and
only if it’s okay with you, I’ll just ride in an expedition or two. I just want
to feel alive again, baby.”

“Being with me doesn’t make you feel
alive?”

He sighed. “You know what I mean. Come
here.” Unfortunately, I did know what he meant. Dylan has an addictive
personality. The adrenaline is as much of an addiction as the alcohol and the
drugs. He was craving it and I doubted that he’d be able to resist the call
forever.

It turned out just that following week I
was proven right…about everything.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN

KYLE

“I have no idea why the doctor ever signed
off on you driving again.” Greg was being overly-dramatic as I gunned the
engine of my new Dodge Charger and merged onto the freeway. His knuckles were
white from gripping onto his seat.

“I’ve been driving again for over a year.
It’s been two years since I was proclaimed tumor free. Was I supposed to take
public transportation the rest of my life?”

I whipped over into the right lane when I
saw our exit coming up. I’ll admit that I like the speed this V-8 gives me –
since Callie and I broke up it’s the only real thrill I’ve gotten. “I’d vote
for it,” the scaredy-cat in the passenger seat said. He changed the subject
then to an even more depressing one. “I saw Callie today.”

It was almost like I’d thought her into
existence. “Oh yeah? How is she?”

“She looks good, but she always does,” he
said with that perverted grin of his.

“Where did you see her?”

“At the courthouse. I guess she’s
interning for the law firm that handles the legal end of my business. I had
some papers that had to be filed by noon and she was the one they sent to meet
me.”

“Oh, that’s good.” I didn’t really want to
talk about Callie. My chest hurt every time I thought about her. Not because I
missed her, but because I felt so badly for hurting her. I’d never wanted to do
that. Some nights when I was really lonely, I’d wonder if I should really
“grow-up” and stop listening to every word my sister says. Callie and I were
doing fine before Sarah put in her two cents…and now I was alone once again.

The day I sat her down and told her how I
felt, I’d been as delicate as possible. I’d told her that I did love her – and
that was true. I just said that I wasn’t passionately, head over heels in love
and I worried that maybe I was being unfair to her. I even felt so bad once I
started talking that I told her if she could “live with that” we could still
get married. I’m a moron sometimes. She let me finish and when I was done, she
just got up from the breakfast table and packed her stuff. I tried talking to
her more and she wouldn’t say a word to me, she wouldn’t even look at me. I
didn’t want her to hate me, but I guess that was being selfish, as well. Before
she left, she put all of the keys to the loft and my car on the counter and
took all of the credit cards we had together out of her wallet and left them as
well. Then, without even glancing back at me, she walked out the door. I’d
never broken up with a silent girl before. I didn’t doubt she had plenty going
on internally, but somehow, I felt even worse that she didn’t unleash it on me.