Gentlemen Prefer Curves: A Perfect Fit Novel (18 page)

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Authors: Sugar Jamison

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BOOK: Gentlemen Prefer Curves: A Perfect Fit Novel
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A little warm body pressed against her, distracting her from her mental berating. Belinda looked down to see Ruby kneeling next to her in the booth.

“What are you doing?” She was horrified as she watched Ruby lift her arms.

“Giving you a hug.”

“Ew no. Don’t touch me. You’ve got kid germs and you’re all sticky.”

Ruby ignored her, wrapping her arms around Belinda’s neck. “You just got really mad.”

Ruby patted her back, and for some reason Belinda felt comforted.

Comforted by your soon-to-be-ex’s five-year-old. You need mental help.

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have.”

“Why did you?”

“Because when I was a kid people use to call me chubby and chunky and fatty and pudgy and every other name in the book and I didn’t like it. I don’t want people to do that to you.”

Ruby kissed her cheek and patted her back once more. “It’s okay, Belinda. Eat your yogurt.”

Belinda did eat her yogurt, with Ruby leaning against her side like it was totally normal, like Belinda wasn’t a near stranger to her, like she wasn’t the woman who was about to divorce her father. It almost felt comfortable.

Which was wrong. There would be no more bonding. No more outings. No more liking the kid. She had a life to get on with. And she was going to start right now.

 

CHAPTER 11

Just the way you are …

“I would kill for this dress,” Maggie, one of the salesgirls, said to Belinda as they dressed a mannequin a few days later.

“It is kind of amazing,” Belinda agreed. “When I saw it I knew we had to carry it in our store. Never in a million years would I have put pink and tangerine in the same dress, but the way this designer did the color blocking across the waist and bust is exquisite. Normally I try to only carry female plus-sized designers, but this guy knows a woman’s body.”

“Does he want to be a woman?” Maggie asked with a raised brow.

“No.” She smiled. “I was surprised to find that Alexander is one hundred percent straight. His father was a tailor so he learned how to sew, but then he started to make clothes he wanted to see his girlfriends in.”

“Did you say Alexander?” Maggie left Belinda and went behind the counter. “This box came for you yesterday from Alexander Dreyer. Is that the same guy?”

“Yes.” Belinda took the box from Maggie. “I wonder what this is. He already sent me all the stock.”

The bell over the door sounded, alerting them that somebody was entering the shop. It wasn’t a customer, though. Carmina, Cherri, and Cherri’s son Joey walked through the door, both adults holding large coffees in their hands.


Mamá?
Cherri? Were you together?”

“Yes, Pudge,” Carmina said as she kissed Belinda’s cheeks. “We had breakfast this morning at Sunny Side Up. Have you ever had their pancakes? They have many different kinds, chocolate chip, and blueberry—they even have French toast pancakes. And they come with eggs and hash browns. It was so much. You shouldn’t go there very often though, Pudge. The food will sit in your tummy all day and you will get sleepy. You always get sleepy after you eat too much.” Carmina ran her fingers through Belinda’s hair. “Your hair looks very good today. Have you tried the conditioning masque I gave you?”

“Not yet,” she said distractedly as she glanced from her mother to Cherri, who looked more innocent than usual. “Do you two have breakfast together often? Or was this something you just decided to start doing.”

“I don’t have a mother to talk to, Belinda. And now that I have Joey I just wanted to talk to somebody who has been through this before. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No. Of course I don’t.” She was being paranoid. It made sense that Cherri would want to speak to an experienced mother about things. But she secretly wondered if her friends and family were up to something. “Do you know Maggie,
Mamá
? She’s one of our new sales associates.”

Maggie smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Gordon.” She turned back to Belinda. “Do you want me to put this box in your office?”

“No. I want to open it now. Maybe Alexander sent me a sample. I would love to carry more of his work. I found this great new designer,” she explained to Cherri and her mother as she ripped open the box. “What the hell?”

She stared at the wispy pieces of fabric that the box contained.

“What’s in the box?” Cherri asked.

“Garters.” She pulled out the black lace. “And tiny panties. And…” She looked up at them. “A leopard-print bustier. There’s a note, too.”

“Don’t leave us hanging, Pudge!” Carmina clapped her hands. “This is so exciting. What does it say?”

“‘After we met I couldn’t get the image of you wearing this out of my head. Please don’t take this as a come-on, but as a token of my appreciation for your perfect beauty.’” Belinda snorted and tossed the note back in the box. “This guy is so full of it.”

“I think you should try it on,” Maggie said surprising her.

“What? No way.”

“Oh, come on, Pudge. Let us see what the nice man sent for you. It’s nice to be a muse, no?”

“Yeah,” Cherri added. “The store just opened. You won’t get any customers for at an hour. Try it on and if you really like it, maybe you can send him a very personal thank-you.”

“Cherri!”

“Oh, don’t be such a prude,” Carmina said. “I don’t know why Americans are so uptight about these things.”

“I’m not uptight! I don’t know what has gotten into you all today.”

“Just go.” Her mother shoved the box toward her and pushed her toward the dressing room.

It had been a long time since she had played dress-up, Belinda thought as she took her dress off. It had been a long time since she had worn lingerie. She could still remember the last time she did. It was for Carter. He bought her a blush-pink chemise and little matching underwear. She remembered how he looked at her when she put it on for him and how he stared at her as he peeled it off five minutes later. She felt sexier in that soft pink than she ever would in leopard print and black satin.

Hollowness filled her for a moment. If she didn’t know any better she would think that she missed him. But that couldn’t be right, especially after their last tense meeting. They were totally wrong for each other and they proved it each time they were in the room together.

“Belinda?” she heard Cherri call.

“I’m coming. I’m coming. Let me just put my shoes back on.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s—”

“What?” Belinda opened the dressing room door and posed with her hand on her hip. Maggie, her mother, and Cherri stared at her with open mouths. “Damn, I know it’s a little tight in the chest but I don’t think it looks that bad.” It was Cherri’s head that swiveled first. Belinda turned, too, to see Carter, the man she was just thinking about—the man who was always on her mind—standing there.

*   *   *

Carter stood outside the doors of Size Me Up. He hadn’t meant to come here, he wasn’t planning on it, but Belinda had been on his mind constantly since he last saw her. He kept seeing in his mind her half-naked body sprawled across his backseat the afternoon of the rainstorm, and he kept remembering how she felt and how she responded to him. He might have been able to ignore all that—he knew his attraction to Belinda was something that was never going to go away—but he also kept seeing her walk hand in hand with Ruby. He kept thinking about how natural they looked together, how happy his daughter had been when she returned to him that afternoon. She was bubbly.

It was almost like he was seeing someone else’s kid. If half an hour with Belinda could do that to her, he thought about how life might have been if she stayed, if they had raised her together. And a little bit of that anger toward Belinda that he thought he set aside had resurfaced.

If she had stayed, their lives could have been so different.

He walked through the doors, still not sure what he was going to say when he saw her. He had been past the shop countless times since he had moved here, but he’d never been in. He hadn’t known that it was Belinda’s store until she gave him her card. But even if she never told him, he would know. He could see signs of her all over the place, from the paint colors to the soft scent of lavender. It all read Belinda.

“Oh. Hello.”

He heard and noticed the three women and the small child who were staring at him.

“Hello.” He recognized the blonde immediately. She was with Belinda that day in the park. He could tell by the stunned look on her face that he was the last person she’d expected to see there.

“I came to speak to Belinda,” he said, not knowing what else to say.

The blonde and the equally tall, dark-haired woman exchanged looks. His memory triggered. Carmina Del Torro. Now Mrs. Gordon. Belinda’s mother. He had never met the woman. He had planned to. They were planning to fly out to New York, just three days after Belinda left.

He stared at his mother-in-law for a moment. She was very beautiful: tall, elegant, slender, all the things Belinda said she was not. But he could see Belinda in her mother. The same cheekbones, same eyes, same softly rounded nose.

“Belinda?” the blonde called. The three women looked at the dressing room door and then back at him.

“I’m coming. I’m coming. Just let me put my shoes on.”

“No. It’s not that. It’s—”

“What?” Belinda opened the dressing room door and came and posed with her hand on her hip. Leopard and black satin, garters and stockings on a too-lush curvy body. He had seen her in far less, but his mouth watered.

Shit.

His thoughts evaporated.

His pants grew a little tighter.

“Damn, ladies. I know it’s a little tight in the chest but I don’t think it looks so bad that it calls for speechlessness.”

“I don’t think it’s tight in the chest,” he said after a moment. “I think some people would pay good money to see you in that.”

She looked up at him, her mouth dropping slightly, an adorable red flush covering her cheeks.

“You do look fabulous, Pudge,” Carmina said softly.

“Yes, she does.” The third woman rushed forward, took a silky pink robe off a hanger, and tossed it to Belinda. “But this would look so nice over it.”

Belinda put it on, shooting all of them dirty looks. “While I sincerely appreciate all of your compliments, I would have appreciated it more if one of you would have said,
Hey, Belinda, don’t come out here half-naked. Your estranged husband is here to see you.
But no, everybody suddenly develops a huge case of the shut-ups,” she grumbled.

“I need to speak with you,” he said, smothering a smile.

She nodded, tightly tying the belt of her robe. “My office is a good place.” She stopped in front of her mother, who was staring at him with open interest. “
Mamá,
this is him. This is Carter.”

“Carter,” Carmina said, studying his face. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“You, too, Mrs. Gordon.”

“And this is Cherri, my other best friend. And this is Maggie. She works here.”

“Nice to meet you both.” He nodded at them and then turned his gaze to Belinda.

“My office is just down the hall.”

He followed her, trying not to look at her bottom as she walked. But it was hard. He knew what she was wearing underneath and he liked the way it wiggled as she went.

“Stop staring at my ass,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Not going to happen.”

They entered her office. He closed the door behind them and then pushed her against it. Her eyes went wide again, but he ignored the surprised look on her face as he undid her robe.

“No need to cover up for me, Bell.” He pressed his lips to her throat. “You know I’ve seen it all before.”

“Carter,” she groaned, but she didn’t push him away as he slid his lips along her skin.

“This thing has to come off,” he said as he went for the hooks on her bustier.

“Do you know how long it took for me to get this thing on?”

“Don’t care. I want it off.” He kept undoing the tiny hooks, revealing her skin inch by inch. She never attempted to stop him; just looked at him with a slight frown.

“My mother is out there. And my best friend and her baby. And one of my employees. They’ve probably got their ears pressed against the door.”

He grinned, kissing down the seam of her throat, while his fingers worked to undress her. “That’s probably why you should stop talking and let me do this.”

He finally reached the last hook of the bustier, freeing her of the confining thing. All she was left in was her silky robe, garters, and those little black lace panties. But as much as her body drove him to distraction, it was her face he couldn’t stop staring at. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. He could see it in her eyes. She never could hide it. It was one of the reasons he fell for her in the first place.

“You’re the only man who has ever looked at me like that,” she said in wonder.

He pressed his face closer to hers, close enough so that his lips brushed hers. “Like what, Bell?”

“Like you…”

“Like I?” She didn’t have to say it. He already knew, even if she couldn’t find the words. He looked at her like she was perfect for him, like he loved her. He had tried to convince himself long ago that his feelings had died, that she was just some woman who had passed through his life, but apparently he was wrong.

Just being around her again, he was feeling that same pull he’d felt four years ago.

“Never mind.” She shook her head, then closed the distance between their mouths and kissed him.

“Why were you wearing that thing? It left marks.” He ran his hands over her torso, his thumbs soothing her slightly inflamed skin. “You don’t need to wear a bustier. You’re sexy enough as it is.” The backs of his fingers brushed the undersides of her breasts, her nipples tightening in response.

“That feels good.” She swallowed as her eyes drifted shut. “Someone made it for me. Unfortunately the designer underestimated my girth. Lucky for me, the guy I married prefers his girls a little chubby.”

“Hmm? Chubby?” He shook his head. “Chubby is not sexy. You’re not thin but you are curvy and warm and you feel good. You’re the way a woman should feel.”

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