Sneak Peek: Thick Curves

Chapter One

Jeb

I had a foster mom who used to say that nothing good comes to those who eavesdrop, but she was wrong. It’s not that I meant to start eavesdropping anyway. It’s just when Connie asked Ellie if she was going to the harvest festival in town, I couldn’t resist listening.

The two of them are working in the kitchen of the mountain lodge that Ellie owns in Lake Bliss, North Carolina. It’s been in her family for generations. They passed away when she was eighteen and despite everything, she took over and began running it.

Over two decades later and the place is still standing. Though these days, it’s just barely squeaking by. It’s operating on fumes thanks to a shady investor who’s trying to run us into the ground so he can buy the place for a song.

She sighs. “I’d like to go to the harvest festival, but I don’t have a date for it. Besides, it doesn’t exactly feel like the right time with everything going on.”

My heart rate kicks up. Ellie has never mentioned wanting to attend the annual event. She always claims to be too busy with the lodge. I would have taken her if she’d even hinted that she wanted to go.

My whole world revolves around the spunky blonde who took me in nearly three years ago. I arrived with just the clothes on my back and a bag that had a blanket and my medication.

She gave me a hot meal and a job on the spot. Then she asked me the question I’d learned to dread since I was five years old and realized the other kids had what I didn’t. “You got any family, soldier?”

I’d dropped my gaze to the table in her dining room and shook my head. I couldn’t stand to see the look of pity that would surely cross her face.

She’d put her hand on my shoulder and it was the first time I’d been touched in so long that I looked up at her. Then she said, “Well, you do now. Welcome to Lake Bliss.”

That was the moment I knew I was looking into the face of an angel. Ever since that day, I’ve been the handyman here. It’s not that I couldn’t find other work. It’s just that other work would mean being away from Ellie. My Ellie.

“Just pick a man and ask him yourself,” Connie encourages. She’s the last maid who works here. Like me, she’s a stray that Ellie took in. She’s just as loyal to the beautiful lodge owner as I am.

But Connie’s suggestion is still a shitty one. The men in town are all nice. But none of them are good enough for Ellie. None of them will look out for my woman the way I will.

“I’m not sure I’m that brave,” she chuckles, a sure sign she’s not feeling confident. It’s a rare thing for her. I’ve seen her face everything from broken water lines that were flooding the lodge to out-of-control guests. Nothing fazes her or gets past her cool exterior.

“Oh, go on and live a little,” Connie tells her.

Why is she listening to this woman? If Ellie wants to go to the damn thing, she’ll go on my arm. That’s the way it has to be.

“Sometimes, I think it would be nice to have a man around. Someone to watch movies with and you know, keep warm with at night.” Her tone makes it clear exactly how she wants to be kept warm. “But I’m just not sure I’m brave enough to start dating again.”

Decision made, I collect my brush and paint can from where I was touching up the railings on the back porch. If Ellie wants to be romanced, I’ll be the one to do it. The only one.

***

Ellie

Not for the first time, I wish I were braver when it came to the romance department. I used to be. I used to be the woman that loved the thrill of the chase. I loved chasing just as much as being chased.

But that was before the cancer diagnosis years ago. I survived but the mastectomy changed me physically and emotionally. I don’t have the same confidence I once did because I don’t like what I see in the mirror anymore.

“You deserve good things,” my friend Connie says to me. She’s been with me for the past five years. She arrived one day with a baby on her hip and nothing but a few diapers. I gave her a room at the lodge and a job.

Now years later when I’m about to lose my beloved lodge, she’s one of the few employees that’s managed to stick around. She’s working a second job since the paychecks here have dwindled to nothing. Still, she never complains about the long hours.

I shrug at her notion that I deserve good things and sip my butterscotch coffee. It’s my favorite flavor. Jeb, the handyman here at the lodge, makes sure to stock it. He’s always looking out for me.

He’s also serious eye candy with his gray blue eyes, black shaggy hair and scruffy beard. He looks like a rockstar, absolutely yummy. But he’s my employee. Not to mention he’s fifteen years my junior. Heck, I have a little brother his age.

Besides, I’m pretty sure Jeb is just grateful to me. I don’t know much about his life before he stumbled his way into the lodge’s restaurant. But I’ll never forget that lost look in his eyes the day I met him. I gave him a job and lodging. He’s stuck around ever since.

“There are plenty of single guys around here and in town that you could ask to the dance,” Connie says, interrupting my dreamy thoughts of him. All of my thoughts of Jeb tend to be dreamy. I’ve wanted him for a long time, but I’ll never act on it. We’re friends and that’s the way it needs to be.

To keep Connie from playing matchmaker, I say, “I’ll think about asking someone.”

She gives me a small smile. “Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there. You’re amazing and a guy that’s worthy of you will instantly recognize that.”

I give her a quick hug before I get started on making breakfast for the morning guests. What I do might sound exhausting—cooking and caring for the guests—but I love it. I love the chance to nurture people and make them feel seen.

The breakfast rush passes in a quiet blur before I go outside to inspect the gazebo. A guest complained about it to me over breakfast. It’s about a mile from the resort but it doesn’t take me long to see that the only problem is a few loose boards. I’ll have to put in an order for new ones.

I could ask Jeb and he’d get it done for me. But that would mean he’d go into town and see Kerrie who works at the hardware store. Kerrie who has incredible cleavage and always bats those baby blues at him.

I’m almost back to the lodge when Jeb falls into step beside me. “Are you still pissed at me?”

I was angry at him for calling my younger brother, Ben, in to help with the lodge. It stung my pride more than I care to admit that I need the help. I took it out on Jeb. I’m not proud of it. Still, he stood there and listened to every word of my angry rant. “No, I’m sorry for what I said. You were right to call him. The place is as much his home as it is mine.”

The Lawrence Lodge is a sinking ship. I’m bailing water out as fast as I can. But it’s only a matter of weeks before the place goes down thanks to an investor with shady tactics. I raised Ben in this resort, and he should be here to say his goodbyes and grieve, same as me.

He cups a hand around his ear, “What was that?”

I blow out a breath. I’m not really irritated with him, but we like to tease each other. “I was wrong for the first time in the three years that I’ve known you. That means I’m right ninety-nine percent of the time, Jebediah Adler.”

Something flickers across his face, and he changes the subject. “You look pretty today as always.”

Even though it’s what he says every day, the compliment still thrills me. I like teasing him. “You need a haircut as always.”

“Reckon I do if I want to look presentable at the harvest festival tonight,” he answers with a slight drawl to his words. I think he’s from some part of the Southeast though I’ve never asked. I don’t want to wake the demons that drove him here.

“Are you taking someone?” I’m trying to ignore the way my heart is pounding so hard. I’ve always figured that Jeb would find a nice girl in town to date at some point. He deserves to be happy.

“Yep,” he says. He’s never been the talkative type. He’s someone who lets his actions speak for him. I’ve always admired that quality until today. Today, I just want to shake him and demand he give me a name. Maybe he finally realized Kerrie is flirting with him.

I pull up my zipper on my jacket. “Good for you. Are you going to tell me who she is?”

“You,” he says the one word easily and naturally.

I stumble over my own feet and quickly right myself. “Jeb.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He bumps my arm with his. Tingles go down my arm. I thought it would lessen over time—that a simple touch from Jeb wouldn’t make me feel electrified. But it still does. I’ve come to understand that it always will.

It’s not a good idea to accept his invitation. There are a million reasons why I shouldn’t. But Jeb didn’t call it a date. He’s just looking for a friend to go with him. I can do that. I can be Jeb’s friend without letting myself hope for more. “You have to buy me funnel cake and cider.”

He chuckles. I love the sound of his laugh. I still remember the first time I heard it. He’d been living here for over a year, always with a storm cloud over his head. His pain was palpable, a living entity that followed him from room to room. Then one day he laughed, and I knew despite everything that he was going to be OK. “It’s a deal.”

I take the steps up the porch and turn to him. He’s at the base of the stairs, staring up at me. There’s something in his expression that I can’t quite define. I’m not sure what it is. I only know there’s a funny feeling in my stomach. I clear my throat. “Go get that haircut. I can’t have you looking like a sheepdog if I’m gonna be seen with you.”

***

“It’s not a date,” I repeat to myself as I pull the dresses from my closet. I live at the lodge in one of the rooms on the first floor. My room is right across from Jeb’s room. I’d be lying if I said I’d never thought about knocking on the door late at night when I’m lonely. But that wouldn’t be fair to him.

Searching through my dresses is an exercise in frustration. They were all purchased before the surgery. Most of them are beautiful deep V-necks that were designed to draw attention to my assets. Assets that are no longer there.

Finally, I land on a scoop neck dress that I wear to church on the rare occasions I attend. If I pair it with a cardigan, it’ll do.

As I change into the dress, I pause in front of the mirror. I don’t normally look at my body now, even when I shower. But tonight, I can’t help but wonder what it would look like through Jeb’s eyes. He’s young and I’ve seen him without his t-shirt. He’s fit with a six-pack and lean muscles that he’s earned from hours spent doing manual labor around the lodge.

I’m soft and fluffy all over with stretch marks and cellulite. My thick curves make it obvious I enjoy cake with my evening coffee and that I’m not afraid to skip the salad and order the loaded cheeseburger with a milkshake.

“Stop this,” I say out loud. “He’s not going to see you naked.”

But that doesn’t stop me from gazing at the scars on my chest. I have little flaps of skin still left. They’re tiny lumps from back when I thought that I was going to get reconstruction. It was something called a skin sparing surgery and now it looks like I have tiny, deflated A-cups.

There are no nipples though. Just puckered lines that tell the story of a woman who was brave, who fought a battle that seemed insurmountable. Still, she kept her head up and kept going. That’s something to celebrate.

Slipping into my dress, I run a hand down it to smooth wrinkles that aren’t there. Just as I’m tying my light blonde hair into a ponytail, a knock sounds on my door.

Despite everything I’ve told myself, a wave of nervousness washes over me. It’s silly to want a man I can’t have. But for tonight I can let myself pretend that this is a date and Jeb likes me back.

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