Page 4 of Curvy Love

Ah, fuck me.

I want all of this woman’s secrets. Dirty and otherwise. I nod before I say something that will make her run away. Like, please marry me and have all my children. So instead, I just nod and say a little prayer to the patron saint of premature ejaculations (okay, I don’ t think there is one, but I want to cover my bases) that whatever comes out of her mouth doesn’t make me come in my pants. I’m in uncharted territory with this woman. I am that drawn to her.

“I’ve never met a taco I didn’t like.” Her eyes sparkle as she admits this. “In my opinion, they’re the world's most perfect food. And yours,” her pretty eyes lift to mine, “Are absolutely delicious.”

“Thank you,muñeca. Tell me where your pretty accent comes from?”

“Texas.” She finishes up her plate and it’s both erotic and enticing to watch her lick her fingers clean. “I’m from a small town just outside of Austin.”

“Then you know your tacos.”

“Yes, I sure do.”

“How did you end up here in Starlight Bay?”

“I’m getting my master’s in business administration.”

“Which explains your knowledge of market research.”

“Exactly.” She grins. “But like I said, I love all tacos too much to be any help on a focus group.”

“Are you single, Laurel from Texas?”

She smiles broadly and one dimple pops in her left cheek. “I am, Alex from Massachusetts.”

I can hear my sisters’ voices getting louder, their Spanish getting faster. It’s an old argument about something that happened at Tia Maria’s Christmas party. I glance over at them and wince when I see Connie wielding the sour cream squeeze bottle like a weapon.

“I should probably get back to my truck and make sure my sisters aren’t setting anything on fire. Especially each other.” I nod to the truck.

Laurel laughs. “I know all about sisters, I’ve got two of them.”

“I’ve got three.” I roll my eyes playfully. The truth is, I love my sisters even though they are pains in my ass.

I am just about to beg for her number when I see her stiffen and her eyes widen at the sight of something behind me.

“You okay?” I put my hand on her elbow and hold her steady.

She exhales slowly. “Just my ex.” She swallows visibly.

I fucking hate that haunted look in her eyes. I hate the dread I see there.

“Did he hurt you?” I ask automatically, my voice sounding rougher than normal.

Her gaze darts to mine. “God no. Nothing like that.” Her eyes skitters away—in his direction—and then back to mine as she releases a torrent of words. “It’s just that he dumped me for this gorgeous model type. And it’s super awkward. And I haven’t seen him since—”

“Is he coming this way?”

“I think so.”

I pull her flush to my body. “I’m going to kiss you.”

She frowns for an instant, looking startled. But then nods with resolve, her hands going to my waist. I swallow a groan from the feel of her hands on my body.

I cup her face and press my mouth to hers. It’s better than I could have imagined. She tastes of beer and spice and her full curves pressed to my body feel nothing short of perfect. I tilt my head and deepen the kiss because I can’t help myself.

I slide my tongue across her bottom lip, and she releases a tiny mewl and then her tongue touches mine. She feels perfect in my arms, the perfect height, everything. And her kiss is not helping with my already existing erection problem. I’m sure she can feel my hard pipe pressed to her soft belly.

A throat clears from beside us and I take my time ending the kiss. I don’t know this ex, I don’t know why he’s her ex, but I know I didn’t like the look of apprehension on her face at seeing him. I kiss her forehead and pull her into a side embrace before I turn to see the man in question.

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