Single Wide Female in Love Complete Bundle: Books 1-4

by Blake, Lillianna

  “Well, you’re not telling me things.” He narrowed his eyes. “It doesn’t seem like you’re enjoying the wedding planning.”

  “I am, I promise. Maybe I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed.”

  “You know we could get a wedding planner if that would make things easier.”

  “No way!” I shook my head. “I want to plan the wedding. I only get one chance.” I grinned at him.

  “Now this is true.” He kissed me. “But I hate to see you stressed out over it.”

  “I’m fine, really. Like you said—it’s just been a rough night.”

  “Alright. If you say so.” He nodded, then kissed me once more. “Good night, Sammy.”

  “Good night, Max.”

  Chapter 5

  Once I was alone in my apartment, I slumped down on my couch. My mind kept returning to the look on Gail’s face. Then it shifted to Pearl and Rocco’s laughter. To make matters worse, I was so hungry that my stomach was growling.

  I forced myself to get up off the couch to check the fridge.

  While I’d been on my weight loss journey, I’d filled the fridge with fresh fruit, vegetables, and low-calorie snacks. Now I realized that I’d allowed some bad habits to make their way back onto the shelves.

  There was cream cheese to go with the bagels on the counter. There were wedges of exquisite imported cheese to pair with wine. There was even a small chocolate Easter Bunny—where had that even come from?

  No wonder I’d had gained weight.

  “Time for some spring cleaning.” I grabbed a trash bag and began tossing out all of the tempting foods in the fridge. By the time I was done there was very little left. I knew that I might be tempted to dig into the bag, so I tied it up tight and marched it right down to the dumpster in the parking lot.

  When I returned to the apartment, I was ready to eat. I opened up the fridge again to see if there was anything left. I pushed a half-empty pickle jar out of the way and found what I was looking for—celery—wilted, limp celery. I grimaced and unsheathed it from the bag.

  “Back to basics.”

  I closed the fridge. Then I opened it and grabbed the cream cheese. “Baby steps.”

  With a butter knife and my spoils I walked back to the couch. As I began chowing down on the chewy celery I vowed to myself that I would go to the grocery store the next day.

  I turned on the television to try to block out some of my thoughts. As I watched the images flicker across the screen, I felt just as stuck as I’d been in the bathroom stall.

  I knew that I needed to get motivated to be able to lose the weight I’d gained back, but the blow was so crushing that it seemed pointless.

  I decided it was time to get out of my head and get into some writing. Just as I stood up to do so, a new show started on the television.

  “You! Yes, you! Isn’t it time you took some responsibility? Isn’t time you stopped being lazy?”

  I froze at the questions.

  “You’re the only one putting that food in your mouth! You’re the only one letting yourself sit on that couch!”

  I raised an eyebrow and looked back at the screen. A man in full army fatigues stood in the center of a gym mat.

  “When you’re tired of giving the same old excuse about not losing the weight, that’s when you sign up for my program—guaranteed to make you lose thirty pounds in thirty days or your money back!”

  He shouted so forcefully that his cheeks blazed red. “So are you going to come in and see me, or are you going to make another excuse?”

  He might as well have said my name. He seemed to be talking only to me. Maybe that was what I needed. A little good old-fashioned discipline and hard work might whip me into the shape I wanted to be in for my wedding.

  I turned the television off, determined that I’d stop by the gym the next day after grocery shopping.

  “That’s right, no more excuses. Now to get some work done.”

  I sat down in front of my computer, determined to immerse myself in the latest book of my B.I.G. Girls Club series. I read back over the inspirational words that the main character Zara shared with one of her clients.

  “I am worth it.” I stared at the faint reflection of my face in the computer monitor. “And so is my dream wedding.”

  When I opened my eyes the next morning, the first thing that struck me was hunger. It wasn’t the subtle kind of hunger that would wait for me to prepare a delicious and healthy breakfast. It was the ravenous kind of hunger that took over every thought in my mind.

  I crawled out of bed and made my way to the kitchen. I already knew that there was very little to eat. I’d thrown out the unhealthy foods the day before. If only I hadn’t walked it down to the dumpster I could have dug through the trash for some kind of decent meal. I searched the freezer in the hope that I might have missed something. But the only thing that remained were frozen vegetables, a pack of chicken breasts, and some fish that I was sure was well past its date.

  I dressed and headed out.

  At one time the grocery store had been one of my favorite places to go. It was my opportunity to build a delicious menu for the week ahead. However, lately I’d been picking up more microwave meals than fresh food. I’d been so focused on the wedding that I wasn’t taking the time to pre-plan meals. I thought again about the state of my wedding dress—or, more precisely, the state of my body in that beautiful wedding dress. I sighed.

  Not planning healthy meals had obviously taken its toll on me.

  Chapter 6

  The doors to the grocery store slid open. I grabbed a cart and made my way inside. Despite the temptation of the cookies, hot deli items, and assorted pastries that were cleverly positioned just inside the door, I forced myself in the direction of the produce section.

  In the past, all of the bright colors of the vegetables would call to me. Now when I saw a plump red tomato all I could think of was a round jelly-filled doughnut. I didn’t want to go back to counting every calorie. With a pout on my lips I tossed a head of broccoli, a bag of kale, and an assortment of peppers into my basket. Resentment built within me with every vegetable I added to the pile.

  I was just about done with my slim list when a woman brushed by me. Her shopping cart was filled to the brim with all kinds of goodies. There were cupcakes, potato chips, and even soda. Soda! I couldn’t remember the last time soda was on my grocery list. Lust bubbled up within me. It heated me up from the inside out. The woman who pushed the cart was nowhere near overweight. She had the freedom to eat whatever she pleased and was obviously not afraid to use it.

  I fixated on the shopping cart. When the poor unsuspecting woman stepped away from her cart to reach for a gallon of milk, I did the only thing I could do. I curled my hands around the handle of her cart and I took off across the grocery store with it.

  “Hey! Hey, that’s my cart! That woman stole my cart!”

  Her screams followed me to the checkout line. In my defense, it wasn’t as if her purse was in the cart, just her delicious, mouth-watering groceries. I tried to blend in with a group of people waiting to check out. Luckily the line moved fast. I started to pile the groceries on to the conveyor belt when the clerk looked at me with a condescending stare.

  “Ma’am, we have a problem.”

  I did my best to ignore the fact that he called me ma’am.

  “These are my groceries, there are no problems. I’m starving—can we hurry this up?”

  He swept his eyes up and down my body. “Starving?” He shook his head. “Sorry, but this is the ten items or less line and you have way more than ten items.” He pointed to the endless line that snaked out of the next aisle. “You’re going to have to go over there.”

  I frowned. “Can’t you make an exception? Just this once? I’ve had a really rough time—”

  “There she is! That’s her! She took my groceries!”

  “It’s not like you paid for them yet!” I cringed at the sight of the security guards. It was in that moment
that I realized I’d let my hunger go right past angry to crazy.

  I fled the grocery store as fast as I could. In the middle of the run to my car I gave myself a little credit for getting some cardio in. I peeled out of the parking lot just as the security officers hopped into their golf cart to chase me. My heart pounded.

  Once I was safe on the road, I started to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Never in my life had I done anything so reckless or insane. But my laughter soon faded. No matter how strange the experience in the grocery store was, I was still quite hungry.

  I pulled into one of the many fast food places that lined the city street. For a moment I weighed my options. I could have something reasonably healthy, or I could indulge after my harrowing experience in the grocery store.

  I decided that what I needed to do was focus on making healthier choices. At least if I was in the drive-through, there wasn’t much chance of my stealing someone else’s food. Unless of course I was up for a carjacking. I placed my order for oatmeal and a black coffee. When I got to the window to receive it, I cringed at the scent of the plain oatmeal.

  “Do you have any sugar packets? How about some cream for the coffee? Any raisins or anything I could add to the oatmeal?”

  The young man nodded and filled up a small paper bag with all of the extras I asked for. By the time I was done doctoring my breakfast, there was more sugar in it than there was oatmeal. I sighed with defeat as I spooned the oatmeal into my mouth. It tasted good, but I knew that I’d made it way less healthy than it could have been.

  I remembered the commercial I’d seen on television the night before. Maybe things had gotten so bad that I needed that kind of motivation from someone who would not let me make any excuses. How else was I going to lose twenty pounds in six weeks?

  After I finished my breakfast I drove toward the gym. I knew they had trainers of all different kinds there. I was sure that one of them would be able to help me.

  Chapter 7

  When I opened the door to the gym I was greeted by a burst of cold air. It always felt so nice and cool when I first walked into the gym. Once I’d gotten through a workout, however, it usually felt like a sauna. I walked up to the front desk and smiled at the perky brunette behind it.

  “Hi, Marla.”

  “Samantha, it’s been a while.” She wagged her finger at me.

  I willed myself not to fantasize about snapping her finger in half. Apparently the oatmeal had not taken the edge off my aggression.

  “Well, you know…I’ve been busy planning for the wedding.”

  “Oh yes, congratulations.” She beamed at me.

  I felt better about not snapping her finger.

  “About that…I was wondering—do any of your trainers specialize in a more—I don’t know—strict form of training?”

  “Strict how?” She tilted her head to the side.

  “Have you seen that commercial for the drill sergeant that guarantees thirty pounds in thirty days?”

  “Ah, you want to drop some weight before the wedding?” She nodded. “What bride doesn’t? Let’s see…I think we have someone who would be perfect for you. He doesn’t come in for another twenty minutes. Why don’t you hop on one of the bikes for a warm-up and as soon as he comes in, I’ll send him straight over to you. But Samantha, you should know, thirty pounds in thirty days isn’t realistic or healthy.”

  “I know.” I nodded.

  I decided not to ask her opinion about twenty pounds in six weeks. I walked over to one of the stationary bikes and dropped my purse on the floor beside it. I tried not to think about the incident at the grocery store.

  Once I’d mounted the bike I began to relax. I actually enjoyed exercising—it was the making time for it that was the hardest part for me. I willed my mind to focus on the chapter of my book that I was working to complete. Without realizing it, I went faster and faster on the bicycle. My heart pumped. My breath grew ragged.

  Suddenly, I was into it. In my mind, I was blowing down a country road with the wind in my hair. The harder I pedaled, the more I forgot that I was in the middle of a gym, not a country road. My legs pumped and pumped. I rocked back and forth on the bicycle. The world around me swayed. It wasn’t until I heard a subtle creak that I realized there might be a problem.

  I tried to stop pedaling but my feet were flying. I gripped the handlebars of the stationary bike and admitted to myself that it was no longer stationary. It wobbled back and forth with a dangerous tilt. I looked down to see that the bolts that held the bike into the gym floor were loose. The bike swayed hard to the right and started to fall. I reached out my hands to catch myself.

  Instead, I caught a chest as thick and hard as a brick wall.

  “Careful there.” His deep voice drew my attention right away. I looked up into the darkest brown eyes I’d ever seen. “No injuries allowed. No excuses.”

  As he helped me off the bike, I took in the sight of his camouflage muscle shirt and skin-tight spandex shorts. The man defined the term fit, from the ripple of his arms to the washboard of his stomach.

  “I’m Blake.” He held out his hand to me. “I’ll be your trainer.”

  I shook his hand while trying to think of a good reason for him not to be my trainer. The truth was, just the look of him scared me. How could he understand what it was like to be a bigger person?

  “I’m Samantha. But you know, I think maybe—-”

  “No thinking. From now on, I will think for you.” He jabbed me in the forehead with his forefinger. “This belongs to me now.”

  “Uh, my head?”

  “Yes, and everything that’s in it. You don’t need a brain to train—that’s my motto!”

  I stared at him. “I think that’s the oddest motto I’ve ever heard.”

  “What did I tell you about thinking?” He jabbed my forehead again.

  “Stop it!” I swatted at his hand.

  He grabbed the whistle that hung around his neck and blew loud and hard on it until I had to cover my ears.

  “Drop and give me twenty!”

  “Twenty? You know, I think this was a mistake. I’ll just be going—”

  “Going to look like a whale in that wedding dress!”

  “Excuse me?” I turned back to look at him.

  “That’s right, you heard me. I’m not here to make you feel pretty, Samantha, I’m here to make you look gorgeous in that dress. Isn’t that what you want?”

  I bit into my bottom lip. It was what I wanted—more than anything. “Yes, but you don’t have to be rude about it.”

  “You’re not going to cry, are you?” He sneered at me. “If you’re going to cry, it’ll be another twenty.”

  I scowled at him. He blew the whistle hard again and pointed to the floor. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d wanted to punch someone as much as I wanted to punch this man. But I also wanted him to make me look gorgeous in my wedding dress.

  With a frown, I crouched down on the floor. The thing about gym carpets is that they are scratchy and dirty. No matter how many times they are vacuumed they remained a sweat-soaked sneaker-soiled desert. Still, I put my hands down and stretched out my legs.

  Chapter 8

  As I started doing push-ups, Blake counted above me.

  “One—straighten those arms. Two—who told you to bend your knees? Two—that one didn’t come close to counting. Are you doing a push-up or are you taking a nap?”

  I wasn’t accustomed to this kind of motivation. In fact, I’d spent the past year of my life building up my confidence and learning how to treat myself with kindness and love.

  Blake, apparently, was not as kind.

  “Lift up your butt! Lift it! Lift it!”

  I had my butt precariously high in the air when it began to vibrate. With my muscles strained to the max and my body already shaking, the vibration was not helpful. I wobbled and nearly fell.

  “Head in the game, Samantha! Head in the game!”

  I ducked before he could poke m
e in the forehead again. Then I remembered why the phone in my pocket was vibrating. I had set an alarm to remind me about the meeting I had at the chapel. It was to finalize the location of the wedding.

  “Oh no!” I looked at my watch. “I was supposed to be at the chapel by three. I completely forgot!”

  “Did anyone tell you to stop doing push-ups?”

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve missed an appointment. I have to make a call.”

  “You’ll make a call when I say you can make a call! Do you think that muffin top is going to lose itself? Why aren’t you sweating, Samantha?”

  I wiped his spit off my forehead. It was mixed with quite a bit of sweat. I wondered if he might be blind.

  “Listen, Blake.” I stood up, trying to make myself taller so that I could look him straight in the eye. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but along with getting in shape, I also do have a wedding to plan.”

  “Your wedding isn’t going to be what you want if you don’t lose the weight.” Blake crossed his massive arms. “You can either continue your push-ups, or you can walk out that door. If you walk out that door, you’re going to have to find another trainer.”

  “Well, I think—” When he raised his finger to poke me in the forehead again, I ducked and dodged. “That might be for the best.” I shook my head as I walked out the gym.

  Maybe I needed more discipline in my life, but Blake wasn’t going to be the one to give it to me. There was a big difference between motivation and being flat-out rude.

  I left the gym behind and rushed to call the caretaker of the chapel. On the third ring she answered.

  “Hi, this is Samantha. I had an appointment with you at three. I’m sorry, I know I’m late.”

  “Oh, it’s no problem. I just gave your reservation to the nice couple that stopped in during your appointment time.”

  “Oh, that’s so funny.” I laughed.

  “I wasn’t joking.”

  “What?” I gripped the phone so tightly I might have broken it if it didn’t already have a shatterproof case. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “No, I’m sorry. The chapel is in high demand and you didn’t call to say that you’d be late. I just assumed that perhaps things didn’t go well and you wouldn’t need the chapel after all.”