Book Boyfriends Wanted: His Curvy Fascination

I stared at the woman in the not-quite-full-length mirror and smoothed a hand over the puffy tulle skirt. The skirt was the one choice I made. The one concession my mother allowed. Not because she cared what I wanted or liked my idea. Oh, no. The skirt was to hide my curves and the unflattering belly she’d shamed me for since I could remember. The princess like skirt hid my belly and kept my mother from being embarrassed by me and my less-than-perfect curvy figure.

Everything else about my wedding was her choice. Satin bodice with the one shoulder weirdness? My mother. Complicated updo with more bobby-pins and hairspray than actual hair? My mother. Church full of people I’d never met waiting to see me marry a man I felt absolutely nothing for? You guessed it, my mother. Hell, even my groom was chosen by my mother.

I didn’t want any of it. I didn’t even want a June wedding. Everyone wanted a June wedding, according to my mother. Not me. I wanted fall. I wanted rich, deep, sensual colors and a man who made me sing in bed. Thomas was not that. Well, to be fair, I wasn’t actually sure. We hadn’t made it that far. A few kisses, some over-the-clothes groping, but sex was not something we’d tried.

Bet you can’t guess why. Yep, my mother.

She insisted on being there for all our dates. Refused to let us be alone. She said it wasn’t proper. All that meant was I was about to marry a man I had no connection to and didn’t really know.

I had to stop it. How could I marry someone I barely knew and wasn’t even sure I liked?

I opened the door to my room and peeked out. No one was in sight, so I left the room, closing the door behind me. My mother would understand. She wouldn’t force me into a loveless marriage. Not when she’d suffered the same. My father died when I was young, but Mother told me often how he barely paid either of us any attention. She would get it.

The second room, the larger one that was intended for the bride, was hers to get ready in. She insisted she needed the space, and that I would be fine in the smaller room. I agreed, as I always did. She wasn’t wrong. I didn’t need much space, and if it made her happy, I would go along with it. I had my entire life, why would I stop after twenty-eight years?

I approached the door, tilting my head to listen. There was a noise coming from inside. A rhythmic, muffled sound. What was she doing?

I knocked softly, but the noise didn’t stop. There was nowhere else she’d be, so I knocked again, opening the door as I did.

Bare ass. Hairy. Squeezed tight.

Emerald green dress, hiked up high. Two legs stuck out and wrapped around the hairy backside.

The sound. Oh.

My cheeks heated, and my body flashed hot. I gasped, then realized what I was looking at.

Or rather, who.

“Joelle! What are you doing here?” Mother demanded from her highly undignified position. On her back, legs spread wide around the hairy butt of the man I was supposed to marry.

Thomas grunted, trying to pull away, but Mother’s legs tightened around him. Maybe to keep from flashing the rest of her parts at me, maybe to keep him from stopping.

Did it matter?

I squared my shoulders. “I came to tell you I can’t get married. Looks like you already know.”

“What? Why?” That got her attention. She released her legs, dropping them to the floor. Thankfully, Thomas disengaged and moved to the side, pulling Mother’s dress down before I got even more than I didn’t ask for.

What the hell alternate reality was I in? “Aside from me not knowing Thomas, it appears as though you know him very well.”

“Joelle, this is a misunderstanding,” Thomas said, buttoning his pants and facing me.

“Really? You were having sex with my mother fifteen minutes before you were supposed to marry me. How else am I supposed to understand this?”

“I was trying to keep him happy, Joelle. Make sure he has a reason to stick around.” Mother glared at me like it was my fault Thomas wasn’t happy. As if it was my job to ensure he was, that I failed to do something critical.

I laughed, like a lunatic, I laughed. I laughed so hard tears ran down my face and my sides hurt. I couldn’t breathe with how hard I laughed. “You know what, Mother?” I finally managed. “I think you should keep giving him reasons to stick around. Because I’m not.” I twisted the engagement ring off my finger and set it on the table just inside the door. “Next time, just take the ring and leave me out of your mess.”

I turned and left, ignoring their pleas. Screw them. They could go screw themselves. Or each other. I didn’t really care. I was done.

I hesitated for half a second at the door, feeling an inkling of guilt for running out on my wedding.

But it wasn’t really my wedding. Nothing about the day was what I wanted it to be. I was playing the part my mother forced me into. I’d never made a choice for myself in my life. It was time I did.

Starting with getting the hell out of there.

Luck was on my side. I made it to the hotel where I was supposed to be staying for my wedding night and grabbed my suitcase before my mother or Thomas showed up. I got a lot of looks parading around in my wedding dress, but if I stopped to change, I worried they would catch up to me.

And I knew they would convince me to go back. Especially my mother. She was the queen of guilt trips. And manipulation. And screwing fiancés apparently.

I unplugged my car and headed out of town. All I’d heard for months was that I needed to go south for my honeymoon. Somewhere tropical. Somewhere warm and sunny with great beaches and lots to do. So I turned north and headed out of town.

I didn’t have a destination. I didn’t know where I was going to go. I didn’t really care, as long as I didn’t have to see my mother or Thomas again. Maybe ever.

An hour into my drive, the reality of what happened hit me. I pulled over into a rest area when the tears blocked my vision and I almost sideswiped someone. I gripped the steering wheel and sobbed.

“What did I do to deserve this?”

I pounded the steering wheel and screamed. When I hit the horn and drew attention, I stopped. There was no answer. No reason. My mother was horrible, and Thomas was no better.

Even if they were the only people I’d had in my life. Ever.

That was the saddest part. The only two people I’d ever counted on weren’t really there for me. Walking out of that church, walking away from my life, was easy. I didn’t have a best friend to call and complain to. I didn’t have an ex to ask for help. I had no one.

If that wasn’t a sign of a miserable life, I didn’t know what was.

I got back on the road and kept driving. Another hour later, I pulled off the interstate and drove farther north. Away from the beaches and the warmer weather and the shit I never wanted anyway. I stopped for lunch in Hershey, Pennsylvania, smiling at the town built by chocolate. With a full charge on my car, I got on another interstate and continued north.

I drove for a long time. I didn’t really know where I was going, but I didn’t want to stop. The interstate continued, so I did, too, letting the monotony of it soothe all the frayed edges inside.

A sign said I’d end up in Canada if I kept going on the interstate, and since I didn’t have my passport, I took the next exit. North again, but this time, a wide river stretched out to my left. I rolled the window down to feel the fresh air. My shellacked hair didn’t move, but my dress flirted with the breeze. I reached my hand out the window and rolled my palm over the wind. I felt free. Light. At peace. For the first time in… Ever?

I kept driving, slowing down to follow the winding road along the side of the river. I passed a town I’d never heard of, smiling at the charm and beauty of the area. Mountains stretched out to my right, the river meandering along to my left. And I just breathed.

Along and along, farther and farther north, I drove, not paying attention to where I was or how far I’d gone. I loved the freedom it gave me. No one to answer to. No one to tell me what to do.

The road curved away from the river and the speed limit increased. I hit the accelerator, but my car didn’t respond. I looked down at the dashboard and gasped.

“Shit,” I breathed. “Shit, shit, shit.”

My battery was dead. I had just enough charge to ease to the side of the road before it stopped completely. I missed the other alerts when I was driving and not paying attention to anything beyond how great it felt to be free.

But now I was stuck. I didn’t know where I was. Not that it mattered because I had no one to call. I wouldn’t call my mother or Thomas. I was done with them. My bridesmaids were friendly enough, but not close friends. Plus, they were hours away.

I rested my head on my steering wheel and tried to figure out what to do. My mother always handled things for me. Car maintenance, repairs, even driving was on her. I never moved out of her home, choosing to live with my mother until I married Thomas. She paid for insurance and my car. I didn’t get my license until I was out of college, and only then was it because I got my first job.

I had no idea what to do. Or what to say if I could figure out who to call.

A horn beeped behind me, and I looked in the mirror to find a truck pulling over behind me. A man got out, his long legs appearing first. He wore jeans and a flannel shirt with sunglasses hiding his eyes. His reddish-blond hair fluttered in the breeze. He paused to say something to someone inside the vehicle, and I noticed a boy in the front seat of the truck.

The man approached, waving as he got closer.

I stuck my head out the window and smiled at him. “I’m sorry. My car died.”

The man grinned. “I sort of figured. Not a great spot for sightseeing.” His gaze dipped to my wedding dress. His brows shot up, but he didn’t comment. “Can I give you a hand? Maybe I can get you going again.”

“It’s electric, and the battery is dead. Unless you have a charger?” I asked, suddenly full of hope.

He chuckled. “No such luck. But I can tow you. My wife and brother-in-law own MacKellar Cove Inn. They have charging stations there.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Yep. Are you a guest?”

“Oh, um, no. I… um, don’t really have a plan.”

His brows went up again, but once more, he didn’t comment on the obvious. “They’re usually pretty booked up in the spring and summer, but I can see if they have a room for you. If you want to stay there. By the time you get a full charge, it’ll be well after dark.”

“I didn’t even think about that. Um, yeah. Thank you.”

“I’m Sebastian Parks, by the way. My stepson, Cameron, is in the truck. Is it okay if he gives me a hand hooking up your car? You can wait in the truck if you don’t want to be standing on the side of the road.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

“Sit tight for a second. I’m going to pull in front of you, then we can swap.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome…” He looked at me with expectation, and I realized I hadn’t shared my name.

“Joelle. Joelle Biers.”

“Nice to meet you, Joelle.”

“You, too, Sebastian.”

He smiled and tapped the side of my car, then walked back to the truck. He said something to the boy inside, then pulled out onto the road.

I waited, wondering if he was really going to help or just go right by, and breathed easier when he pulled over again. He backed his truck up in front of my car, then both doors opened.

The boy looked similar to him, and if he hadn’t said it was his stepson, I would have thought he was his son. The two of them moved together, clearly comfortable with each other and close. My guess was the boy was a teenager, but I didn’t have any reason to think that.

“You can get out if you want,” Sebastian said.

“Oh, right,” I said. I grabbed my handbag and looked around the car. My suitcase was in the back, but there wasn’t really a reason to get it out. I tugged the handle and stepped out of the car.

“Why are you wearing that?” the boy asked.

“Cameron,” Sebastian hissed.

“What? It was just a question.”

“And Ms. Joelle is allowed to dress however she wants.”

Cameron turned to me. “Is that how you always dress?”

A laugh bubbled out of me. I shook my head. “No. It’s not. I actually don’t love this dress.”

“Then why are you wearing it?”

“It’s a long story.”

Sebastian cleared his throat, drawing my attention. “There’s a room for you, if you want it. It’s available for a week, but if you need to stay longer, we can try to figure something out.”

“Oh, no, I’m sure I won’t need to. Thank you. I really appreciate your help.”

“You’re welcome. Um, if you want to wait in the truck, we’ll have this hooked up in a minute, and we can head to the Inn.”

“Thank you.”

Sebastian nodded.

I walked past him and Cameron, wondering what kind of place I was visiting. Friendly strangers who stopped to help people. Adorable teenagers who hung around with their step-fathers. And the most beautiful place I’d ever seen.

All I knew for sure was I was not in a hurry to go back to the life I’d been living.

I climbed into the cab of the truck and folded my extra fluffy skirt around me, hoping to make space for the two men hooking my car up to the truck. The truck jerked a few times, and I turned to watch the front of my vehicle lift into the air and get closer.

Then Sebastian and Cameron moved toward the truck. Sebastian called Cameron to his side, and both climbed in the driver’s side, Cameron squished in the middle between my massive dress and Sebastian.

“That’s a really big dress,” Cameron said.

I nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

“Do you have any other clothes?”

I snorted. “I do. Although I’m not sure if they’ll be right for spending time here.”

“Why not?” Cameron asked.

“Well, I was supposed to go to the beach next week. I packed clothes for that.”

Cameron looked at me. “We have a beach.”

“Yeah?”

Cameron nodded. “Yeah. It’s not very big, but maybe it’ll be enough for you.”

“I’ll give it a try.”

“If you don’t like it, there’s a lot of other things to do. We have a big garden, and there’s a movie theater in town, and a bookstore my mom really likes going to. My aunt has a library at the Inn. She said it’s good for people to try out new books, and sometimes when you’re on vacation you don’t think to bring one.”

“I like to read.”

“Me, too. I think you’ll like our Inn.”

“I think I will, too,” I said.

“We’re here,” Sebastian said, turning down a driveway that was lined with trees and led the way to a beautiful white house. It was three stories tall, with a wide porch that wrapped around the house. Just beyond was a stunning view of the river I’d been following north.

“Wow,” I breathed.

“Yeah, it’s pretty great.”

“It definitely is,” I agreed.

Sebastian parked the truck right in front of the door. He backed up, expertly guiding my car into an empty spot by one of the chargers.

The three of us got out, and Sebastian unhooked my car, lowered it to the ground, and pulled his truck forward. He stopped a few feet away and got out again, leaving his truck running.

“Do you have luggage or anything you need from your car?”

“Yeah, I have a suitcase in the trunk.”

“Cameron, grab the suitcase. I’ll plug the car in.” Sebastian didn’t hesitate to take care of me.

It was refreshingly familiar, but also annoying familiar. I was supposed to be taking care of myself. But I didn’t want to be rude and refuse his help.

Sebastian and Cameron led the way up the wide front steps. I lifted my skirt so it didn’t snag on any of the wooden treads, then dropped it when I made it to the porch.

Cameron opened the front door, and Sebastian hurried to hold it for me as Cameron carried my suitcase inside. The boy went to the desk where a beautiful woman smiled and wrapped her arm around him. “Hi, Mom.”

“How was your errand?” she asked, love shining in her eyes.

Had my mom ever looked at me like that? Like I could do no wrong? I couldn’t remember it if she had. My throat tightened.

“It was good,” Cameron said. “We met Joelle. Sebastian said she’s staying here.”

The woman smiled at me, then slid her gaze past me. It changed, her eyes widening before Sebastian stepped forward and claimed her lips with a kiss that made me blush.

That. That was what I wanted. That was how a woman was supposed to feel on her wedding day. And not because she was seeing another man kiss another woman. My husband should have wanted me the way Sebastian wanted his wife. With a kind of passion that couldn’t wait for anything or anyone.

“We have a guest,” she said, pushing him away, her cheeks turning pink as she rolled her lips in. “I’m so sorry about my husband.”

“Every woman should have that kind of greeting,” I told her. “You’re very lucky.”

She looked up at Sebastian, whose arm was around her shoulders. “Yes, I am.” She tore her gaze away from him and cleared her throat. “But you’re here for a room. Can we get you settled?” She headed for the stairs.

“Don’t you need a credit card?”

She looked at me and smiled. “We can do that later. First, you need to feel like you again. Assuming you don’t typically wear wedding dresses for casual vacations?”

I barked a laugh. “No, not typically.”

“Let’s get you upstairs. We can worry about the rest later.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She led the way to the stairs. “I’m Zoey, by the way. Nice to meet you, Joelle.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”