Page 3 of Candy Coated Curves

He steps closer again and once more puts a hand on her wrist.

Oh, fuck no.

chaptertwo

RONI

Despite the fact that it’s technically winter here in Texas and is actually below seventy degrees outside, it’s hot inside Ace’s. Probably because I’ve been dancing and shaking my booty. Doing anything and everything I can think of to get a certain someone’s attention.

Nash rarely comes out on Saturday nights. On any normal Saturday night, the best I hoped for when I was getting dressed was the chance to spend a fun night with some girlfriends.

Except, Nash is here. And I can feel his eyes on me. Watching me.

When we’re at work, in his candy shop, The Candy Jar, there are days he barely seems to notice me. I get only the occasional, furtive look from him. He is far too good a man to leer openly at an employee.

But here? Away from the shop? On neutral ground, where he thinks I won’t notice? Here, I can feel his gaze on me.

So, do you blame me for relishing how that feels? For shaking my ass with a little extra sass, since I know I’m the focus of his attention?

How could I not?

I am not, however, enjoying the attention from Pete. He’s a guy that maybe I went to high school with. He says he’s a few years younger than me and that he was only here occasionally. Whatever that means. But he is all up in my business tonight and I am so not interested. For a variety of reasons. Most of which is the fact that I am already in love with someone else.

“He’s been watching you the whole time,” my friend, Amber, says quietly.

I don’t bother looking over my shoulder; I know who she’s talking about. He’s the main reason we’re here on our girls’ night and not back at my house—the one I share with my older sister, Jackie—watching chick flicks and eating ice cream straight out of the tubs. When I overheard Nash making plans to meet his friend, Ian, here, I roped my friend into coming to Ace’s with me, so Nash can see me wiggle my goods and Amber can help me make a plan of attack.

Not too long ago, Amber was in a similar situation. She worked for the man she was in love with. He’s older than her, but clearly felt the same and so tonight she’s here to see if she thinks Nash reciprocates my feelings.

“It’s definitely working,” she says. Then her eyes snag on the guy that joined us on the dance floor and she gives a huff of exasperation. “Maybe a little too well.”

“At the moment he seems occupied,” I say, hoping the blonde that Pete, as he introduced himself by screaming in my ear, invites him to dance or just go home with her.

Amber glances over at the guy and nods. She grabs my hand and pulls me away. “Let’s get some water and cool off.”

“Maybe Nash looked at me, but probably just because he’s being protective. Being in love with my older boss makes me a fool.” I bang my head lightly on the bar. “I’m going to die a virgin.”

“No, you’re not,” Amber says with a chuckle. “You just need to take matters into your own hands. “That’s what I had to do. Sometimes good guys like that need a push.”

“What am I supposed to do? Go to work on Monday, grab the front of his jeans and be like, ‘give me this dick because I’m tired of being a virgin’?”

Amber and I both dissolve into a fit of the giggles and then Pete is there again putting his hand on my shoulder. He gives it a squeeze that feels more like a grope.

“Hey, I’ll pop that cherry for you.”

I remove his hand from me and try to laugh it off, stepping around to put Amber in between us. She can handle him. And also, her husband, Quinn Crawford, is huge and will kill any man who puts hands on her.

“Gross,” Amber says.

Pete just laughs and walks back around to be next to me. “Come on, babe, it’s mostly a joke.” He encircles my wrist with his hand.

That’s when a large shadow falls over us.

“You girls ready to go?” Nash asks, his voice coming out in a tight growl. He glares so hard at Pete the guy drops my wrist and steps away. Nash looks ready to snap Pete in half and he’s big enough to do it.

My cheeks heat and despite my Hispanic blood, I’m pretty sure they turn bright pink. I can’t help but wonder how much of my conversation Nash heard. Did he hear me admit to being a virgin? Did he hear stupid Pete offer to relieve me of my cherry?

Gross.

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