Dynomite: A Stepbrother Cowboy Romance by Layla Wolfe Page B

on Young Blood for fifteen seconds.”
    Boy, it didn’t take long for that sandblasted douchecanoe to lose his brilliant sheen. I could see his daughter in him—the icy blue eyes, the plastic, cap-toothed smile. “Yeah. About that. I heard about the tussle that took place last night from Bob Groff.” Groff was the arena director. I knew he’d be a real narc, a real shit disturber, no matter how much he’d raved over my skills.
    “Just a load of misunderstandings,” I tried to say.
    “I know you were trying to protect Sequoia Crooks. But let me tell you, David. That boy is nothing but trouble. If you keep hanging around him something even worse is going to happen. He’s heading nowhere but rehab or the Indian welfare line. If you want me to sponsor the bareback event, you’ll have to agree to stop hanging around him.”
    “Well, that’s just not right—” I began, but he cut me off.
    “Another thing. You need to stop getting into it with Lawson Willard, too. That boy is up and coming, and he’s heading to Harvard in the fall. I know those boys might taunt and tease once in a while, but you’ve got to find a way to ignore—”
    “Taunt and tease?” I blurted. “This isn’t fucking kindergarten—with all due respect, sir. Those ‘boys’ have been harassing and bullying Sequoia by calling him a blanket-ass, a smoke signal, a wounded knee jerk. Last I checked, that was racial discrimination.”
    My mother only nodded. She could care less about racial stuff.
    But Cliff was obligated to at least pretend to care. He was a businessman, highly visible in the community. “You’re right, David. That’s completely wrong, and I’ll have a chat with Lawson’s father about it. But in the meantime, I want your promise to stay away from Lawson. My daughter needs him, and I don’t want anything to come between them. My April might not get into an Ivy League school with the way her grades have fallen lately, but you can hardly blame her, with her mother’s passing and all.”
    That was an easy enough promise to make. Since I hadn’t actually promised about Sequoia, I could easily promise about that snake, Lawson Willard. Who the hell wanted to be around him, anyway? I’d be forced to see him at rodeo events and that was it, once school let out. Fact, if he was going to that snob school, he wouldn’t make any of the finals anyway—if he even got that far.
    I could wreak more havoc being an inside man like this. It fulfilled my sneaky, devious nature to know I was heaping undue stress upon that lily white April just with my mere presence. Maybe I wanted a bedroom close to hers. If her relationship with the great Mr. Willard was so tenuous that it was hanging by a string like that, the evil, underhanded possibilities were endless. I might have an amusing enough summer after all, especially if I was accepted into the circuit.
    “No problem, sir. I’ll stay far away from Lawson Willard. Just talk to Mr. Groff about my scores last night. I had a really good start. I can focus on the next couple rounds, wrangle for you, and ride bucking horses.”
    Cliff was all smiles again. “That’s fine, David.”
    “Dyno.”
    “Dyno,” Cliff agreed.
    I was back in good. I was getting my way once more.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    APRIL
    W hen the dinner bell rang, I meandered down the hallway just like any other evening.
    This time, a scum-sucking rat bastard sat at my dining table.
    My dad and stepmonster had been threatening this for a long time, and it was finally happening.
    Oh, man, did he have a smug-ass, self-satisfied look pasted to his face. He sat there with his fucking milk glass—as if he ever drank milk in real life—acting all Justin Bieber, Brady Bunch about everything. He was even talking to my dad about horses!
    “I hope I get to ride Winner Takes All,” Dyno was saying, sipping the fucking milk. “He’s a high roller, but an honest bucker.”
    “Who the fuck is this?” I couldn’t help saying. I stood behind