Read Online The Substitute Wife by Keegan Kennedy - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Keegan Kennedy
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that’s how you’re wired. Just promise me one thing, Austin....”
“Yes, Sir,” I had meekly replied.
“Don’t give a man that cherished gift of your...uh...rear end...without him being real special to ya. Dirk Jackson is no good white trash and he would make all sorts of promises to get what he wanted from ya. Austin, you got ya a real, tender heart, and I won’t let him hurt you like that. So, if you got them inclinations, you should save that special gift until you find the...uh...man of your dreams.”
I had looked up at the big man beside me, and we had exchanged a rare smile. He had patted my back and walked out of my room. The subject matter had not been brought up since.
I had been shocked. I had just come out to my ultra-masculine and tough step dad. Hank Conroy had actually accepted me for who I was and had given me the best advice of my life. That moment had forever changed the way that I had thought of him.
When Momma had split and left her goodbye note for me and Hank, I had thought that he would surely kick me to the curb. I just knew that I would end up living in the streets and eating out of trashcans, but Hank had stepped up.
He had come to my room, where I had been crying. I had just known that he was about to throw me out when he had said, “Austin, your momma left us both, but don’t you worry, boy.” He had paused. “I will look after ya from here on out. I ain’t gonna let ya go hungry and without a roof over your head.”
I had dried my tears. “Thank you, Sir.”
“But, I am gonna need ya to pitch in around here. When you ain’t at school, you’ll be here cooking for us, cleaning up the house, washing my clothes and fetching me my beers while I watch TV like your Ma did. You’re gonna be doin’ most of the work that she did around here. You are gonna be the one to make sure this house runs like a fine oiled machine. I know you’re only 16, but are you up to the challenge, Austin?”
“Yes, Sir,” I had replied with a smile.
So, for the last two years, Hank and I had quite the smooth operation going. While I was in high school during the day, he was at work. I arrived home every weekday at 3:30. I cleaned the house. I did his laundry. I also made sure that dinner was on the table at 6:30 pm sharp every night with no exceptions.
He still didn’t talk a lot. I had accepted that he was the strong, silent type. Instead, we would spend hours in silence watching TV each night. I would be on the couch either watching along with him or reading a book. Hank would be in the recliner with his big size 14, socked feet propped up on the footrest. Of course, as part of the conditions of our agreement, I would closely watch the level on his beers and fetch him another before he even asked for it. In fact, I had gotten pretty adept at anticipating Hank’s needs.
I was thankful for Hank Conroy. He had been more of a parent to me than my momma ever had. I appreciated him and was going to keep him happy....
Now, it was two weeks before high school graduation. It was also my 18th birthday and a Friday. Little did I know that this day would change the entire course of my life.
That morning had started out like any other had. I slammed off my alarm at 4:30 am and rushed into the kitchen to make Hank’s breakfast. I had exactly 30 minutes to have it ready and waiting for him on the table. The menu this morning was canned biscuits, bacon, tater tots and scrambled eggs.
You could set a watch by Hank. At exactly, 5:00 am he walked into the kitchen. He was wearing his usual cowboy boots, faded jeans and tucked in white t-shirt. His over 25 years in construction had given Hank a brawny and formidable frame. At 42, he was handsome and muscular. Many times I had thought that my momma had been a nut job to leave a man as good-looking as my stepdad.
Per usual, I was bare-chested and only wearing a pair of Hanes white cotton briefs.
As I poured him his cup of coffee, he sat down and began to
“Yes, Sir,” I had meekly replied.
“Don’t give a man that cherished gift of your...uh...rear end...without him being real special to ya. Dirk Jackson is no good white trash and he would make all sorts of promises to get what he wanted from ya. Austin, you got ya a real, tender heart, and I won’t let him hurt you like that. So, if you got them inclinations, you should save that special gift until you find the...uh...man of your dreams.”
I had looked up at the big man beside me, and we had exchanged a rare smile. He had patted my back and walked out of my room. The subject matter had not been brought up since.
I had been shocked. I had just come out to my ultra-masculine and tough step dad. Hank Conroy had actually accepted me for who I was and had given me the best advice of my life. That moment had forever changed the way that I had thought of him.
When Momma had split and left her goodbye note for me and Hank, I had thought that he would surely kick me to the curb. I just knew that I would end up living in the streets and eating out of trashcans, but Hank had stepped up.
He had come to my room, where I had been crying. I had just known that he was about to throw me out when he had said, “Austin, your momma left us both, but don’t you worry, boy.” He had paused. “I will look after ya from here on out. I ain’t gonna let ya go hungry and without a roof over your head.”
I had dried my tears. “Thank you, Sir.”
“But, I am gonna need ya to pitch in around here. When you ain’t at school, you’ll be here cooking for us, cleaning up the house, washing my clothes and fetching me my beers while I watch TV like your Ma did. You’re gonna be doin’ most of the work that she did around here. You are gonna be the one to make sure this house runs like a fine oiled machine. I know you’re only 16, but are you up to the challenge, Austin?”
“Yes, Sir,” I had replied with a smile.
So, for the last two years, Hank and I had quite the smooth operation going. While I was in high school during the day, he was at work. I arrived home every weekday at 3:30. I cleaned the house. I did his laundry. I also made sure that dinner was on the table at 6:30 pm sharp every night with no exceptions.
He still didn’t talk a lot. I had accepted that he was the strong, silent type. Instead, we would spend hours in silence watching TV each night. I would be on the couch either watching along with him or reading a book. Hank would be in the recliner with his big size 14, socked feet propped up on the footrest. Of course, as part of the conditions of our agreement, I would closely watch the level on his beers and fetch him another before he even asked for it. In fact, I had gotten pretty adept at anticipating Hank’s needs.
I was thankful for Hank Conroy. He had been more of a parent to me than my momma ever had. I appreciated him and was going to keep him happy....
Now, it was two weeks before high school graduation. It was also my 18th birthday and a Friday. Little did I know that this day would change the entire course of my life.
That morning had started out like any other had. I slammed off my alarm at 4:30 am and rushed into the kitchen to make Hank’s breakfast. I had exactly 30 minutes to have it ready and waiting for him on the table. The menu this morning was canned biscuits, bacon, tater tots and scrambled eggs.
You could set a watch by Hank. At exactly, 5:00 am he walked into the kitchen. He was wearing his usual cowboy boots, faded jeans and tucked in white t-shirt. His over 25 years in construction had given Hank a brawny and formidable frame. At 42, he was handsome and muscular. Many times I had thought that my momma had been a nut job to leave a man as good-looking as my stepdad.
Per usual, I was bare-chested and only wearing a pair of Hanes white cotton briefs.
As I poured him his cup of coffee, he sat down and began to
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