Star-Crossed Curves: BBW Erotic Romance Boxed Set

by Carolina Moon

  She watched him walk out onto the back porch, his head hanging, and felt worse than ever.

  "I swear, I have never messed anything up so badly in my life," she muttered. This just wasn't going to work. She decided that she would have to tell him to leave.

  Just as she did, though, he turned and stomped back in through the door. Standing in front of her, hands on his hips, he said, "Blair."

  She stared up at him.

  "You might just be the only person in this whole damned town who gives a shit about me, and I'd like to help, if I can."

  She sighed, but he didn't give her time to answer. "I know we've had some, uh, troubles in the past, but that has nothing to do with today." He sat down again. "Let me help, Blair, if I can. Please?"

  She felt the tears on her cheeks before she even realized that she was crying, and tried to quickly wipe them away. He grabbed her wrist and held it as he walked around the table to where she sat. Tugging her out of her chair, he led her to the living room and pulled her down into his lap on the sofa. She tried to protest, to get up, but his arms slid around her waist and held her firm.

  It was her undoing. Her nerves felt so raw and she was so on edge that his touch sent her over the edge. She buried her face in his collar and sobbed. It felt so good to be here in his arms. She never thought she would feel this way again, had promised herself that she would never let her heart become this vulnerable again. She knew it would end in a moment, though, and if she wasn't careful she would have to go through the pain of having her hopes dashed all over again. The thought only made her cry harder.

  Her tears soaked into his shirt and ran down her face and neck onto his arms, but he just held her tight against him, absorbing her pain, until she was able to calm herself a little.

  Finally, her crying quieted to a sniffle, and she tried to get up before it started again. He wouldn't let her, though.

  "Let me up, I'm too big to be-"

  "Hush. Stop that." His arms tightened around her middle. After a moment, he said, "I know what this is about, Blair."

  She froze. He couldn't know. He had to be lying. Why would he lie?

  "I'm having the same problem."

  She waited, afraid to speak.

  He didn't speak, either. He placed a hand at the nape of her neck and bent her head down until their lips met. She thought she would melt into a puddle right there in his lap.

  The electricity between them was obvious, taking her breath away. She had a moment to wonder if her felt it too, but then he pulled her face down to his with both hands, deepening the kiss. She was suddenly hungry for him, for all of him, consequences be damned. Her hands found the tail of his shirt and slid under it, finding his warm skin and the hair on his chest. He groaned at her touch, encouraging her to explore further.

  Her fingers danced across his ribs and down, tracing the rock hard abs to his waistband and back up to his chest. She spread her fingers wide, loving the way he felt against her palms.

  His own hands traced the contours of her face, exploring the curls in her hair, her eyebrows, nose, and cheeks, then moving to touch her lips with a tender thumb.

  "You're so beautiful," he whispered, so low that she almost didn't hear him.

  She closed her eyes and raised her chin a little, drowning in his attention. His hands fell back to scrape through her hair and along her throat to her collarbone, dancing there for a moment before she heard him groan and drop them to her breasts.

  She gasped. The spark of his touch was immediate and violent, bursting through her body.

  He found her nipples through her shirt and brushed across them with his thumbs, making her throw her head back with a murmur and press into him.

  "You're beautiful," he said again, as if to himself. "I need this, Blair. I need you...."

  Wait. Cold splashed through her.

  What was she doing? She didn't want him to need her...she wanted his love, and that would take time. This was an afternoon dalliance, not a relationship, and instinct told her that she would be hurt again when he left. Maybe his feelings weren't on the line, but hers were, whether he knew it or not. She had to protect herself.

  She climbed off of his lap as quickly as she could.

  "What? Where are you going?" He looked genuinely confused, and more than a little hurt.

  "I can't, um, do this. With you," she stuttered. "Right now, I mean. I'm sorry."

  "I didn't mean to.... I thought you wanted this, too. My mistake." His voice oozed hurt and dejection, and her heart squeezed for him.

  "I do, Randy. It's just..." What was she supposed to say? That she still loved him? That she wanted his heart more than his body? "I can't do this."

  "Why not?"

  She seized on the only thing that came to mind, as lame as it sounded. "I don't think it's a good idea while you're working for me."

  His eyes flashed pain, and then anger. "I'm sorry. I forgot that I'm just an employee." He stood and stalked towards the door. "Better get back to work. Boss."

  She sank into the chair he'd just vacated and cried. She hadn't meant to hurt him, or to damage his pride. She hadn't meant to make him angry, or alienate him. She knew without a doubt that there was no fixing this and no hope for their future.

  That last thought startled her. Had she still, after all these years, thought that they would be together? How stupid could she be? It had been over between them long ago, so why was she still hiding that one hope in her heart?

  Swiping angrily at her tears, she went to the bathroom to clean up. She would have to ask him to leave. It was the only way to protect her stupid, stupid heart.

  But what about him? He needed this job, and it wasn't his fault that she had made such a mess in her head. It wouldn't be fair to fire him.

  Maybe she could just avoid him. She would have to let him know what needed done, but otherwise, she could find reasons to stay in the house and out of his way. That would suck, because she loved the crisp autumn weather, but she could do it.

  She glanced out the bathroom window to see him drop a log onto the block and raise the axe high. He then slammed it down with such force that the twin chunks of wood spun away into the grass. She shivered.

  His anger was her fault, but she had to protect herself. As badly as she wanted to go to him, touch him, have sex with him, she knew that he would walk away and destroy her all over again. Evidently, she'd never gotten over their previous relationship, and sex now would only add salt to the wound.

  She decided to put her plan into action and leave him alone.

  *

  The next two weeks were exhausting. Thankfully, he didn't show up during the week, due to his regular work, so she had a reprieve on those days. On the weekends, however, he came early and worked long into the evening hours, doing a lot of the work that she couldn't do herself. It was a relief to have it done, but Blair was on edge any time he was on the property. She didn't get anything done on those days, either.

  The tension was torture, even though she did everything she could to get her mind off him. She quilted, she read, she spent a lot of time on horseback, roaming her hills and waiting for him to leave. When she was anywhere near the house, she found herself, more often than not, simply staring at him.

  At night, when he was gone, she took long, hot baths and cried.

  Whenever they needed to speak, she kept it short and then rushed away as quickly as she could, her heart pounding and her fists clenched. He hadn't tried to be friends - or anything else - since their argument, and she couldn't decide whether she was relieved or sad about that. He simply came, got his work done, and left.

  By the middle of October, she was ready to scream. He was everywhere she looked, and even on days when he didn't come to the ranch she saw him constantly - walking on the sidewalk in town, passing by on the two-lane in his pickup, even eating at the diner one evening when she stopped in to see Beth. She couldn't get away from him.

  He always tipped his hat to her and said hi, but his
voice was low and his eyes never really met hers.

  *

  Beth was busy getting her Girl Scout troop ready for the fall festival, and she enlisted Blair to help her decorate the float for the parade. Blair always helped. It was a lot of fun and it got her away from the ranch for a bit. This year, she jumped at the chance, if only to get her mind off Randy. At least, she thought it would, until she found out that he would be helping, too.

  "Beth!" she groaned, staring the older woman down. They were standing in the big barn on Beth's property, counting boxes of acorns. "How could you?"

  Beth shrugged and tucked few stray hairs back into her bun. "We need the help. Most of the mommies are busy this year, and you and I can't glue on this many acorns by ourselves."

  Blair glared at her.

  "Come on, Blair! It isn't that bad. A sexy hunk to help out is not the end of the world."

  "It might be, if I have to cross paths with this particular sexy hunk...."

  "What particular sexy hunk?"

  Blair whirled around to see Randy walk around the corner of the trailer that would soon be their float. Her breath caught in her throat. He looked...different, but she couldn't explain why, exactly. He was as sexy as ever, dressed in blue flannel, with his sleeves rolled up to expose those amazing forearms...the ones he had wrapped around her less than a month ago. His eyes were alive, too. He seemed excited, and much happier than he'd looked for the last two weeks.

  "Why, this one, of course," Beth exclaimed, pointing at his chest. "You're just the man we were looking for, right Blair?"

  Blair winced at Beth's choice of words, but nodded and gave him a tight smile. He returned it and said, "Hey, Blair. I didn't know you would be here."

  She nodded. "Same here."

  As she spoke, she heard a voice calling out, "Randy? Where did you go?"

  "Over here," he yelled back, and the tiniest blonde that Blair had ever seen stepped around the corner to where they stood.

  Sparkles. That's the first impression Blair got of the girl. She was quite possibly the sparkliest person on the planet. From her lip gloss to her rings to her hair - was that glitter in her hair? The girl looked like her own parade, teetering on high heels.

  "Beth, Blair, this is Tiffany. I talked her into coming along, too. She's never been to a country fair before, so I thought we could show her how much fun it is. Right, Tiff?"

  Tiff didn't look too sure, but she gave them a small smile and nodded. Blair would have guessed her age at nineteen...maybe. Way to go, Randy.

  Tiffany's nose was wrinkled. "What's that smell?"

  Beth shot Blair an amused look. "Horses. Nice to meet you, Tiffany."

  Blair didn't return her look. She was too busy trying to breathe. She suddenly felt like a Clydesdale around this stick of a girl, and she wanted nothing more than to run away and cry. Her heart ached in her chest.

  Tiffany picked her way through the loose hay on the ground and looked in the boxes on the floor. "Wow, that's a lot of acorns," she muttered. "We're gluing all of these onto this trailer?"

  "Yep." Beth nodded cheerfully.

  "For a bunch of little kids?"

  "Yep."

  "Why aren't they here helping?"

  Beth laughed. "Kids and glue guns don't mix, honey."

  Blair excused herself and ran to the bathroom at the back of the big barn, away from Randy, away from Tiffany, trying to get herself under control. She slammed the door and leaned against it, squeezing her eyes shut.

  She felt betrayed, even though she had no idea why. She didn't own him. In fact, she had actively pushed him away.

  So why did she want to curl up and die?

  *

  Somehow, Blair got through the afternoon. At home, after six hours of gluing acorns to the Girl Scout float, she sank into the bathtub, in the hottest water she could stand, and tried to rid her mind of the images of the day.

  Randy was in every one. His laughter and sparkling brown eyes floated through her mind over and over. He was happier today than he'd been in the weeks since she turned him away.

  She knew why, too. Tiffany. Sweet, young, flirtatious Tiffany, who didn't want to mess up her hair or get glue on her skirt. Tiffany complained constantly about the smell of the barn and the dust that irritated her contact lenses. Blair thought she was going to choke the girl before the day was over.

  She had been impressed - and relieved - when Randy had remained the perfect gentleman, though. Other than holding out a hand or helping her down from the trailer, he had acted as if Tiffany were his proper guest. Thank god. Blair didn't think she could stand watching him fawn over the girl, even though it was really none of her business.

  She looked down at herself in the tub, mentally comparing her body to Tiffany's, and sighed. She was who she was. At least she was healthy and strong, and not afraid of hard work...or glue. She snickered at the thought. Besides, Tiffany was a lot like Maria had been, and definitely Randy's type.

  Her presence confirmed one thing, though. What had happened a few weeks ago had been merely a fluke. He had just been lonely, and he would have gone away again after they made love, in search of a Tiffany to fill up his forever. She had been right to protect her heart from his advances.

  It still hurt, though.

  She climbed out of the tub and toweled off. Padding into the bedroom, she slid into her robe and went to the kitchen to make tea. She would sit down, read a book, and forget this day ever happened, she decided. Only a few more weeks and Randy would be finished up, and then she could settle into the winter happy, knowing that all was well on the ranch. Happy...and alone, the annoying voice in her head reminded her.

  She sighed and settled into her favorite corner of the sofa. Alone wasn't the worst thing in the world to be. She had managed it for years, and it had its perks. Why did she suddenly feel so empty?

  *

  She hadn't realized that she'd fallen asleep until a horrible pounding noise woke her. She bolted upright, trying to figure out what was going on. The first thing she noticed was that the house was dark, and she clicked on a lamp. The clock on the wall read six, and she groaned. Great. It was Saturday morning, and Randy was here.

  She dragged her hands through her hair and shuffled to the door. He grinned through the glass at her as she unlocked it, and burst inside almost before she got it open. She glared at him. He obviously had had a good night.

  "Got any coffee?" He was still grinning as he brushed past her and swept into the kitchen.

  "Ha!" he said, seeing that there wasn't any. "You overslept!"

  Her glare didn't go away.

  His gaze, however, traveled down toward the floor, and he smiled and cocked an eyebrow. "Sit. I'll make coffee."

  He waved her toward the table, and she sat, only to look down and realize that she was very close to naked. The robe had loosened and gaped above the belt, leaving her almost naked from the waist up.

  She grabbed it shut and said, "I'll be back."

  Hurrying into the bedroom, she cursed him with every step. Why in the hell was he so happy, anyway? It was six o'clock in the morning. And what was he doing in the house? He hadn’t been inside since their...argument...a few weeks ago, and now they were buddies again? Drinking coffee together? She shook her head. This was just weird.

  Sliding on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, she went back to the kitchen. She could smell the coffee, and she desperately needed some.

  He filled up her entire kitchen, it seemed. He sucked all of the air from the room just by standing there with that sexy smile on his face. She couldn't get to the coffee without brushing past him, and when she did, the effect was magnetic. Her nipples hardened, and a tingle ran through her. She wanted to wrap herself around him and never let go.

  Of course, his smile wasn't for her, and she needed to keep that in mind. He was probably thinking about his night with Tiffany.

  "I'm almost finished with the fencing, Blair. I'd like to take a look at the outbuildings, just to make
sure they're tight for the winter...can't have snakes holing up in there."

  She nodded and sucked at her coffee. She just wanted him out the door....

  Instead, he hooked one foot around a chair and straddled it to face her across the table. "You OK?"

  She nodded again, but the knot that had suddenly swelled in her throat wouldn't allow her to answer. She knew that she would never be his type, and knew that it was useless to feel bad about it, but still...

  He was sitting there, looking at her, expecting her to take part in the conversation, and he had no idea how sad and broken she felt. All because she wasn't a Tiffany, something that had seldom bothered her until this moment. She said abruptly, "Could you please go? Do whatever you think needs doing, but I really need to be alone for now."

  His face fell, and she almost thought that she had hurt his feelings. His voice lost its lilt, too. "Sure. Umm, I hope everything is alright. Anything I can do to help?"

  She shook her head.

  "Well, call if you need me," he said, and then he was gone. She heard his heavy boots scuff across the back porch, and ran to the bedroom.

  It was maddening to have to fight with herself. She did not have a habit of falling all over herself over some guy. Especially some guy who had hurt her before, and liked women who were the opposite of what she was. So why was she acting this way? Feeling this way? She curled up on her bed, determined to stay there until she heard him leave. She just didn't have the energy for this today.

  *

  When she opened her eyes again, he was there, sitting on the edge of her bed with a tentative smile on his face and a tray.

  "I brought you some soup," he said quietly. "Are you OK? I thought you might be sick...."

  She smiled, her heart melting at the sight of him. No one had been around to care for her for a long time. It felt good.