Dirty Cowboy

by Alycia Taylor

  “You like it?”

  “I love it!” she said.

  “Me too!” Vicki said. “Where did you get it?”

  “I got it when we were in Barcelona. There was this shop on the beach where the lady made all her dresses by hand. I love it.” I went with a classic white dress. The top of it was bandeau style with a lace overlay and tiny little spaghetti straps. She created the skirt by using layers of vintage and recycled fabrics and laces which was the part I thought was the coolest. They’re all different shades of white and the sash that ties just under my breasts is a light gray silk. The dress is completely lined in silk and it was all fit and tailored just for me. The other great part, I thought, was that it cost less than half of what something comparable would have been in the U.S. I loved it so much that I almost couldn’t bear the thought of only wearing it once. I was holding out the hope that someday Paul and I would have a little girl and she could grow up and wear it at her wedding. I do wish her luck with ever getting married though…with Paul as her dad.

  “I have champagne!” The wedding planner brought a bottle in that she told me she set aside especially for the bride and her “attendants” to toast with before the wedding began.

  She poured five glasses, but when she tried to hand one to Mom she said, “I don’t drink, but I have water I’ll toast with. Thanks.” I smiled at her and she smiled back. She’d come so far this year. We all had, really.

  Debbie raised her glass and said, “To Jessie and Paul, may your lives always be full of love.”

  They all toasted to that and drank. Marie held hers up next and said, “To Jessie and Paul, may your lives be better than those examples set before you.” I knew she was talking about her parents, but I think she suddenly realized what it may sound like to my mom and she added, “Or may you at least be wise enough to seek out help and make changes.” We all drank to that as well. I was sipping, I started out this relationship with Paul drunk and in wrinkled clothes…I really didn’t want to go into our marriage that same way.

  “Okay, here we go! Where’s the mother of the bride?” The music had started and Jeff was at the tent to pick up mom and take her down the aisle.

  She kissed me on the cheek as she passed and said, “I’m so proud of you I can hardly stand it. I love you Jessie girl.”

  “Right back at you mom. I love you too.”

  I peeked out and watched her and Jeff walk slowly to the harp music that was playing. He helped her take her seat up front and then he went to take his place near the groom, my groom…my man…Every time I had that thought, I had to stop what I was doing and smile. Victor came back into the tent and Marie helped him straighten his tie and find his ring pillow. He looked so cute in his little navy blue suit. After he was on his way, Sam was at the door of the tent. He and Debbie started down the aisle and when they were halfway there, Victoria and Jeff started their ascent. My stomach was suddenly full of butterflies. I knew I had nothing to be nervous about…I was marrying the man of my dreams. Everything was perfect.

  “Hey, you ready to do this?”

  “Hi Greg, I’m ready.”

  Greg Madison held out his arm to me and when I took it, he kissed me on the cheek and said, “You look really pretty, Jessie…but are you sure you want to marry a fighter?”

  I laughed, “I guess I have to. I wrote the vows around that theme already.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re stuck then,” he said, “They probably wouldn’t work for another kind of athlete.”

  Laughing again I said, “Have I told you lately that you’re the best boss ever and I’m really lucky to have you?”

  Greg looked like he was thinking about it and then he said, “Not lately,” with a smile. Then he said, “Have I told you lately how much I appreciate you as a worker and a friend?”

  “Not lately,” I said. “Thank you for everything.”

  He smiled again and said, “Thank you for letting us be a part of your life.”

  I heard the wedding march begin. Greg and I stepped to the edge of the opening in the tent and watched as all of the wedding guests rose to their feet. Greg and I began our walk down the path towards the altar. It was the walk towards my future and I couldn’t wait to get there. Once I was outside where I could see, my eyes found Paul. He was standing there all dressed up looking like every woman’s fantasy man, and I still sometimes had a hard time believing that he was all mine. I can’t even begin to imagine how I got so lucky but I will be eternally grateful that I just happened to work at the gym that my soulmate was going to walk into.

  When we reached the altar I heard the guests behind us take a seat as Greg lifted my veil and kissed my cheek again. “I love you, kid,” he said.

  “I love you too.”

  He smiled through the tears that had sprung up in his eyes and turning slightly, he gave my hand to Paul. Paul took it and wrapped his fingers through mine. The pastor from the church where Mom did her NA meetings was performing the ceremony. He did the whole “dearly beloved” and “who gives this woman?” yadi yada and then he turned it back over to Paul and I for our vows. We had written part of them together and then each of us had also written our own part to read to the other. We did rock, paper, scissors the night before to see who had to go first. It was a very diplomatic process, I thought. Of course I had won and that meant Paul had to go first. I may not have thought it so diplomatic if I’d lost. Paul looked a little nervous as he cleared his throat and turned towards me.

  With my hands in his he said, “Jessie, I promise as your husband to be spontaneous and to cherish each moment we have together and to always be fair and willing to try new things. I promise to witness your beautiful life to always take time for us, to dream with you, to fight for you, to always be in your corner and never take another side. I promise to be your biggest fan and while you chase your dreams I promise to encourage you and to love you with my actions and not my words.” God, I love this man. I was crying and my make-up was probably running and I didn’t even care.

  “Paul, I promise to laugh at all of your jokes, to appreciate you always, to hug you just because and to never forget how to play just for the sake of playing. I promise to never leave your side no matter where life takes us. I will always be ready to do battle for you. I will watch UFC on pay per view with you; I will go to everyone of your fights and no matter how strong the impulse is I will never throw in the white towel. I love you so much, Paul. I feel like my life has just been hanging around all of these years, waiting for you.”

  My big, tough fighter had tears in his eyes.

  We both had to dab at our eyes before we went on to do the next part together, “I Jessie” and “I Paul” take “Paul” and “Jessie” to be my partner, sparring or championship, to love what I know about you and trust what I haven’t yet discovered. I eagerly anticipate the chance for us to grow together getting to know the people we will become and falling a little bit more in love every day. I will love and cherish you through whatever life may bring.”

  The pastor picked it up from there and asked for objections…there were none which was good because I may have gotten my dress dirty, kicking their ass. Then, he let us slip on the rings and say, “I thee wed,” before finally at last pronouncing us man and wife. We turned towards our guests who were now on their feet as he said, “I’d like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Paul and Jessie Delport. What God has joined together, may no man put asunder.”

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  BUCKED

  THE COMPLETE SERIES

  By Alycia Taylor

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are
products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright 2016. All rights reserved.

  BUCKED #1

  Chapter One

  Laci

  There’s no better feeling in the world than standing center stage as a torrent of applause roars through the crowd. Kind of like my last night on stage as a high school senior. I’ve been acting for as long as I can remember, and I’ve been lucky enough to be cast in the lead role more often than not. This particular play gave me the chance to be a feisty little Latina who brought a hell storm of drama down all around her. I flashed my biggest smile and bowed deeply as I drank in the ovation. Like I said…no better feeling.

  The company stepped up to join me and my co-lead, then we all joined hands and took one final bow before the curtains slid closed in front of us. Reveling in the success of a great run—and the relief that it was finished—the hugs and high-fives immediately began. But, much to our surprise, the curtains started to creep open again and a voice came over the sound system. We all turned to face the audience, no one quite sure what to do, but all prepared to bow once more.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of East High, we’d like to thank you for coming out tonight, but we aren’t finished just yet. As many of you likely know, our very own Laci Daniels has made quite a name for herself on the local theater scene.” The ovation returned, and I waved a hand, stepping forward with a little bow and a grin, not having any idea where this was going.

  “Here to make a special announcement regarding that name she’s made for herself is Laci’s father, Bradley Daniels. Give him a warm welcome!” Just then, good old Dad came strolling onstage with a huge bouquet of roses in one hand and a cordless mic in the other. Make no mistake, I’m a huge Daddy’s girl. So him bringing me flowers for my last high school hoorah isn’t a major surprise. My dad’s my world, and he just so happens to also be my agent. Go figure, huh? And, maybe I’m biased, but I think he’s the best in the business. Of course, there are a few A-List celebrities who would agree with me.

  Dad walked over and handed me the flowers, then threw an arm around my shoulders, squeezing tightly before he planted a kiss on my forehead. He did a fake sputter and wiped his mic hand across his mouth before he started to speak. “I guess it’s not the brightest idea to kiss a forehead caked in stage makeup and sweat, huh?” he joked and gave me a wink. I stuck my tongue out in return and waited for him to continue. “First of all, I think this cast deserves another round of applause; what do you say?” he encouraged the audience. They applauded once more. “I know you’re all wondering why I’m up here.” He turned to me. “My daughter especially.” I nodded my head, now very curious as to what was going on.

  “Well, little Miss Laci here loves to act.” I gasped in faux surprise and the audience laughed. “I know, shocker. Anyway, she’s been a natural on the stage ever since she could walk, and obviously, she’s developed her skills pretty well.” Apparently, the audience agreed because they let out another round of applause, which brought about more of a blush than someone in the spotlight is supposed to have.

  When the clapping died down, I had to say something to break it all up. “Alright, Dad, enough with the compliments, get to it.” Yet another chuckle from the audience.

  Dad smiled and pulled me to his side. “Getting to the point, I have a little surprise for my daughter. Thanks to her hard work and countless hours of honing her skills, the lovely Laci Daniels you see standing before you have landed a role co-starring in a feature length film to be directed by Bill Condon!”

  I’m fairly certain I heard my jaw hit the when he uttered the words “feature film” and the name “Bill Condon” because Dad pushed my chin back up before continuing. “That’s right, you’ll get to see this stunner,” he squeezed my shoulders, “on the silver screen!”

  That’s when the applause became somewhat ridiculous—even for someone who loves nothing more. People stood and my ears filled with the sounds of clapping, whistles, hoots, and even a “Go, Laci!” or two. Dad pushed me forward, urging me to take a bow and stop looking like a deer in headlights, but what else was I supposed to do? I mean, for crying out loud, I was just told that I would be in an actual big budget movie! Not many aspiring actors can say they have that opportunity by the age of twenty-five, let alone eighteen. So, I stood there before my peers and friends and did what any trained actress would do: I bowed gracefully and basked in the moment.

  ***

  Half an hour later, after hanging up my costume and scrubbing off my stage makeup—along with probably three layers of skin—I wandered into the lobby of the auditorium where members of the crowd always milled about to congratulate the cast after shows. Mom ran up as soon as she saw me and let out an ear-splitting squeal as she wrapped her arms around me.

  “Aaah, my baby!” She squeezed me to her chest and shook me back and forth like she was mixing one of those protein shakes she loves so much. “You have no idea how hard it was to keep the secret! Can you believe it? You’re gonna be a star!”

  “She already is, Lisa.” Dad stepped up again and pried Mom off me, reminding her that other people wanted to congratulate me, too. “I’ll have to have a talk with the producers, though.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean? Is something wrong with the contract?”

  “Well, they mentioned a possible start for filming next month. That’s two months before you’re officially graduated. I’m going to try to talk them into moving the table read back to August since you graduate in June. That way, you’ll have time to be a high school graduate and go party at the beach for the summer, or whatever high school graduates do. I’m not going to have you so close to being salutatorian to just throw it away for a movie.”

  “Dad, it’s the opportunity of a lifetime. If the movie is even remotely popular, it won’t matter if I have my diploma. You know better than anyone that people look for talent in this industry, not education.”

  “Yeah, but what kind of dad would I be if I just let ‘em stop my little girl from finishing her education?” He made a fist and nudged my cheek. That’s the thing about my dad—he’s always been the “scout’s honor-I’m-the-world’s-most-righteous-dad” type. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it can get in the way of what I want to do sometimes. Like this time.

  “I can’t expect the whole world to drop their plans for me, Dad. Delaying filming is gonna cost them time, and as we’re all well aware, time is money,” I contested. “Not to mention I could easily switch to online high school.” That’s when he gave me the “nice-try-but-it’s-not-happening” look.

  I threw a sassy look right back before I continued, “Take Mark, for example. You know he switched to online school halfway through sophomore year, and he’s already graduated. He’s even started on college classes. Call him, call his parents. I can easily handle that. I won’t be filming nonstop, so I can do schoolwork during my downtime on set. Mark does it all the time.” Mark Hannon and I practically grew up together. Our parents met when Mark and I had acting classes together at the ripe old age of seven. We’ve been friends ever since. Dad even represents him. Next to Emily, Mark’s probably my closest friend, even though I hardly ever get to see him these days aside from a video chat here and there. He’s been super busy becoming the next big heartthrob for my generation and rightfully so. Mark is a talented actor, a super sweet guy, and better looking than the Hemsworth brothers.

  I was about to continue my protest when Mom broke in. “Honey, with it being your first movie, you’ll be too busy trying to take in the sights to focus on any kind of schoolwork. It’s best to let your father at least try to postpone filming until you graduate.”

  “Just trust me, Laci Bug.” He gave me a smooch on the forehead and ruffled my hair.

  God, that man has always had a way of disarming me, even when he’d treat me l
ike I was five. Maybe it’s because I’m an only child—a “rainbow baby” after four miscarriages—but they have always been very protective of me, and they’ve tried their hardest to make sure I never missed out on the things I wanted. Some people might say I’m spoiled, but I’ve never thought so. At least, not with material things. When I was little, before Dad’s career really took off, they busted their butts to send me to dance classes, voice lessons, every theater camp imaginable, and even piano lessons. All because I wanted to do those things.

  So, maybe in that way, I was a little spoiled, but that doesn’t mean my parents always let me have anything I wanted. I had to save my money and buy my own first car. When I wanted a six-hundred-dollar dress for junior prom, my parents laughed and told me they’d give me one hundred dollars for a dress and not a penny more. I had to work weekends at the horse ranch thirty minutes away to earn the extra money for the dress I wanted.

  Not that it was really what I considered work. Thanks to my mom, I love horses. I have to admit, one of my favorite things from growing up was horseback riding. Mom grew up on a ranch, and even though she moved to the city with my dad, she still loved horses and taught me to love them, too. She took me riding when we had the spare time, which only amounted to at least a couple of times a month. I always looked forward to driving out to the small ranch.

  Not many people know that about me, and it would likely make them think I’m spoiled even more. Nope, those things don’t count as material, they count as life experiences. Mix those life experiences with the endless love of my parents and, well, I had a pretty amazing childhood.

  Even through my terrible teens and now that I’m technically an adult, things are still pretty good, and my relationship with my parents is even more important to me. I love my mom to no end, and I’m probably more of a Daddy’s girl at eighteen than I was as a toddler. My guess is you can chalk that up to the fact that he’s been my agent since I was two. He’s helped me focus on what I love and even make a bit of money doing it. Dad has always kept me grounded. From the time I was little, he has reminded me that I’m never going to be the best. There will always be someone who can do what I do, I just have to work harder. Right now, I’m just a big fish in a small pond. Out in the real world, a forty-minute ride on the express into New York City, I’m Nemo—a tiny fish in an enormous ocean.