Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
You’ve always been so good to me. I was always your princess, and you spoiled me rotten in every way that counts.
You made me PB&J sandwiches when I was down, and even sang to me a couple times when it was raining.
You bought me my first bra, and helped me navigate a treacherous new landscape called “boys.”
But now, unemployment’s left you depressed …
… And I have just the solution.
I’m untouched …
Pure and innocent …
And my sassy curves will make you feel better.
Won’t you let me, Daddy? After all, now the tables are turned and it’s time for me to take care of you.
Love,
Christy
This is a follow-up to A Curvy Girl for the Cowboy. In this story, the brat and the man of the house find themselves in a conundrum. He’s lost his job, and they’re forced to move into a tiny shoebox of a trailer. But Christy’s ingenious and soon, the trailer’s trembling and rocking on its foundations from the steamy shenanigans going on inside! This book contains questionable scenes and is not intended for sensitive readers. It is NOT a DD/lg story. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a HEA for my readers.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
Bart
Goddamn. I didn’t want this to happen, yet here we are. I’m ashamed and don’t look up when I enter the trailer, my heart pumping in my chest. But my sassy stepdaughter glances towards me and smiles.
“Hey,” she says. “Is that my stuff? Just dump it over there,” Christy gestures, pointing to an unoccupied corner of the combination living-dining room.
I slink to the corner before setting the cardboard box down. It’s labeled “winter clothes” and bulging against the packing tape. I straighten, even as embarrassment causes harsh streaks to color my cheeks.
“Sorry about this,” I rasp, still not looking up. “As soon as I find another job, we’ll move, I promise. This place is a dump.”
Christy merely shakes her head, her voice gentle.
“It’s fine, Bart,” she says. “I’ll be perfectly happing living at Sunset Views. Besides, you know that the closing of the Portnoy meatpacking plant wasn’t your fault. You’ve been there for ages, and no one thought they were going to lay everyone off.”
I nod, still embarrassed.
“Yeah, but I should have seen it coming,” is my gruff reply. “Like you said, I’ve been with Portnoy a long time. More than twenty years in fact. I should have known this was coming down the pike.”
The beautiful brunette merely smiles again, her expression gentle.
“Maybe, but what could you have done? There’s only one meatpacking plant in this area, and that’s Portnoy. Plus, it’s been your life since you were eighteen. All of your friends work there too.”
I snort.
“Yeah, but I could have moved and found another job,” I say in a raspy voice. “I could have been prepared, instead of getting the axe along with everyone else. This was a long time coming, you know. We all knew it was only a matter of time.”
But Christy merely tilts her head at me, her brown eyes forgiving.
“I know, but I also know that you were thinking of me when you decided to stay put,” she says in a pointed voice. “I was in high school, and you didn’t want to pull me out in the middle of it. So we stayed here in Hartsville, and what’s happened has happened, Bart. It’s okay. I don’t blame you one bit, and besides, I have a job now so we’re going to be fine. We can afford the rent on this trailer on my salary.”
The statement only makes me feel worse because after graduating from high school, Christy picked up a full-time position at the local five and dime. She’s working the counter, and I have to say that I’m secretly grateful for her job. Sure, she doesn’t make much, but forty hours a week at the store is just enough to cover our rent and some basics.
Still, I hate the fact that I’ve put the beautiful girl in this position. After all, I’m supposed to be taking care of her, and not the other way around. When her mother passed away, Sharon made me promise to take care of Christy, and I have to the best of my ability. But I’m sure Sharon never envisioned her daughter working her fingers to the bone to support me.
The thought makes me drop onto the couch and put my head in my hands. Fuck, this is so messed up. I’m a grown man, and I’ve always seen myself as a provider. Hell, I’m proud to be a provider. I take pride in putting food on the table, and a roof over our heads. I want Christy to live the carefree life of a teen girl, but instead, we had to give up our small brick house and move to this trailer park on the outskirts of Hartsville. It’s embarrassing, frankly, but Christy doesn’t seem bothered. I feel, rather than see, the curvy girl sink next to me on the couch, and one small hand strokes my shoulder.
“It’s okay, Bart,” the caring woman murmurs. “You did nothing wrong. I swear. And I quite like Sunset Views Trailer Park. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there actually is a beautiful view of the sunset from our window. Come, look,” she urges, her voice persuasive.
I manage to lift my head and glance towards the small, slotted window in front of us. It’s pretty sad because at the moment, my stepdaughter and I live in not more than three hundred square feet. There’s a bathroom to the right, and then the bedroom in the back. We’re currently sitting in the combination living-dining room with a small kitchenette along one wall. Obviously, space is tight and the two of us are crammed like sardines in something that could pass as a closet, or a shoebox. Yet Christy’s smiling at me as she gestures to the aforementioned sunset.
“See?” she murmurs while taking in the brilliant oranges, reds, and pinks that streak the sky. “Gorgeous.”