He laughed at her before bending down to kiss her. “As you wish, and I’m guessing you won’t want more of my tea?” He picked up the untouched cup he’d made earlier.
She shook her head, climbing out of bed. “No thanks. Beer, wine or coke are fine with pizza though,” she called as she went into the bathroom and shut herself in.
Tasha sat on the toilet and absorbed the silence of the bathroom, attempting to put her emotions back in check, although it was no surprise that hers were all over the place after the day she’d had, going from one emotional extreme to the other. And now her period had arrived, another dip on the emotional roller coaster she was currently riding.
They sat eating pizza, drinking coke and watching a baseball game.
“You know I don’t know the rules to baseball, don’t you?”
“Then it’s a good job that is not a deal breaker on qualities I look for in a wife.” He smiled.
She shrugged, her focus remaining on baseball. “It’s a bit like rounders from what I can gather, but that’s a girl’s game we used to play at school and we didn’t wear helmets and stuff.”
“Then it’s nothing like baseball, is it?” He grinned at her, enjoying the wonderings and ramblings of her mind. “What other sports did you play, or still play?” he asked curiously, but genuinely interested to know what her interests were.
“At school we played rounders, netball, hockey and tennis, but we also did athletics, trampolining and swimming. Then outside of school I was in a swimming club and I used to ride,” she revealed, smiling at the memory.
“Were you any good at any of them?” He found it difficult to imagine anything she wouldn’t be good at.
“I was good at swimming and riding. I used to do point-to-point and eventing. I played hockey for the school and I’m okay at tennis.” She smiled still. Then laughing revealed, “I was rubbish at netball and athletics, but they always made me compete.”
Jim laughed at her expression of displeasure at the memory of the sports she was less thanokayat.
“You know we have stables here? You can take up riding again if you want to. Why did you stop?”
“My dad,” she replied, looking sad again.
“Of course,” Jim muttered thinking he should probably have expected that response. Something Tasha was good at and enjoyed, obviously he’d put an end to that. “What happened?” An overpowering urge to punch Mr Bailey washed over him as it so often did when Tasha looked sad and despondent at memories of things he’d done or said.
“I’d been taking part in point-to-point races for a few months and doing really well. He had no interest in it, which was a bonus. My grandparents paid for riding lessons and my pony and stabling then followed me around locally to meetings, but my dad got wind of the fact that I was doing quite well so turned up to a meeting I was riding at. He found a guy whose wife was riding too and made a bet that I would win. He even came and told me he was sure I would win because I was a good girl and wouldn’t let him down.” She laughed to herself and shook her head.
Jim didn’t laugh as the now familiar urge to punch Samuel Bailey washed over him again.
Tasha continued, “I didn’t win. I came second and this guy’s wife won. She was a far superior horsewoman to me and her horse was a beautiful thoroughbred made for the job. My horse was a lovely boy, but he wasn’t in the same class. Obviously the shit hit the fan like you wouldn’t believe. He screamed and shouted. It was all my fault. I’d done it on purpose to make him look stupid and to lose him money, you know, all the usual crap. When we got home he beat the shit out of me and proceeded to borrow money from Liam and I repaid the debt, oh and I was forbidden to ride again and I haven’t been on the back of a horse since,” she said matter of factly before getting up to retrieve the rest of the chocolate from the fridge.
Jim watched her casually wander across the room and thought that she showed very little emotion about the whole situation with her father and that worried him more than if she was crying hysterically about his treatment of her. He momentarily thought back to the day when he’d left her stranded in the bedroom naked, and how she had been hysterically rambling about his treatment of her. He still thought her reaction that day was a more acceptable reaction than her cool, calm reaction to it all now. He really would like to give Samuel Bailey a taste of his own medicine.
“What about you?” She offered him some chocolate that he declined.
“What about me?”
“What sports did or do you play, other than golf?”
“Oh, I see. Baseball, basketball, football. I always enjoyed most sports at school and I played football in high school and college. We all had tennis and riding lessons though, hence the stables and because the kids wanted to have their own horses at home, a desire that lasted minutes.”
Tasha laughed at his words and disapproving expression but knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would have fulfilled his children’s dreams, desires and wants whether they lasted a second, a minute or a lifetime. He really was the epitome of a good dad and that only made him more attractive and easier to love for her.
“I had the room and the money, and Travis to run the stables so kept them anyway,” he explained, confirming he held no bad feelings about his children’s passing interest in owning horses. “Now it’s mainly golf and the gym for me. I would happily whoop your ass at tennis if you fancy it one day, or we could go for a ride,” he suggested.
“You are obsessed with whooping my ass,” she joked, making him laugh. “But I wouldn’t be so sure that you’ll beat me at tennis, so bring it on. Were you the football player with the cheerleader girlfriend, like in the movies?”
He arched a brow, but smiled. “Yeah. Very stereotypical, but yeah. Sara was the ditsy blonde cheerleader.” He hoped that Sara wasn’t going to be an issue in Tasha’s mind, especially in her current emotional state, although he accepted the part he’d played in that. Now watching her putting more chocolate in her mouth he wondered if that was the only reason for it. “I didn’t realise you had such a sweet tooth.” He gestured towards the chocolate. “Or is this PMS? Can I say that now?” he asked warily.
“I do like chocolate, but I normally resist the temptation or I would be like the back end of a bus, but yes, this is more PMS consumption than anything else.”
He nodded and pulled her a little closer before thinking he needed to clear the air a little more, maybe a final clearing. “Do you want to talk about Bria? I can guarantee Mickie won’t gate-crash us on Tuesday.”
“What’s to say? She obviously doesn’t like me and so far I am not that keen on her.” Tasha’s tone was firm but flat and the sentiment delivered with a bluntness she did nothing to hide.
