A Curvy Girl for the Cadet: A Perfect Fit Novella

by Sugar Jamison

  “I’ve been trying not to cry all day and now I can’t seem to stop.”

  “You can cry.” He wrapped his arms around her a little tighter. “You need to.”

  And she did. She cried into his warm bare chest as he whispered comforting words into her ear until she ran out of tears.

  “I’m sorry, Clayton,” she said when she felt steady enough to lift her head. “I shouldn’t have accused you of being a creepy perv.”

  “You have to look out for your little girl. You had every right to.”

  “And you had every right to blow up at me.”

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and it was then she realized how close they were. That he was shirtless and her arms were wrapped around his warm hard body. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been that close to anybody, even her own husband. They had stopped sharing a bed long before he died. But she felt safe with Clayton. Safe with a man who she barely knew and looked like an angry lumberjack. She didn’t want to let him go, but she had to. She knew she had to step away.

  “I’m going to be horribly embarrassed the next time I see you,” she said as she let him go. “I swear I usually don’t accuse people of terrible things and cry all over them afterward. I know Maggie. I should have realized that you were her brother. I’m sorry. I won’t be offended if you avoid me for the rest of your life.”

  “I should apologize to you. I didn’t realize that I had overstepped. I’m sorry. I won’t give her anything else.”

  “Her name is Aubrey,” she told him. “She’s a sweet girl. But she’s my niece. Her mother died when she was two and we lost Danny. I just get a little crazy when it comes to her. Please continue to wave to her. She likes you. She thinks you’re nice. It would hurt her feelings if you stopped because of me.”

  “Okay.” Her grasped her chin and set his lips on hers. It was the last thing she had expected, but it was exactly what she needed. His lips were warm and smooth and they had something special about them that made her want to close her eyes and just be kissed. His breath was warm. His beard was soft, his body was solid and comforting. She thought about what it would be like to go to bed with him, what it would be like to strip off all her clothes and lay naked beneath him while he worked. She didn’t think about that fast paced, headboard banging sweaty kind of sex as he deepened his kiss, but that slow lazy, smile causing, toe curling kind of sex. Clayton Calhoun seemed like he would be mighty good at that.

  He broke the kiss and studied her face with those beautiful icy eyes of his. “I don’t know why I did that. I just know that I really wanted to.”

  “I’m not complaining.”

  He smiled then. Not a full smile, just a flash of teeth, a slight curling of the lips, but she found it delicious anyway.

  He shook his head and leaned down to kiss her again. It was a much shorter kiss, but it still managed to send tingles through her body. Tingles she hadn’t felt in years.

  “Get out of my house, Daisy.”

  “Goodbye, Clayton and thank you.”

  She walked back over to her house, feeling better and calmer than she had all day. “Mama?” Aubrey was popped up as soon as she stepped back inside. “Are you okay? You were gone for a long time.”

  “I’m fine, baby,” she said truthfully as she bent to kiss her forehead. “Let’s see what movie you picked out for us.”

  *

  “Is this place okay for you, son?” Clayton’s father asked just after the hostess seated them in the local steakhouse that next evening.

  “Yes, sir. It’s fine.”

  “How about you call me Dad instead of sir? Since I’m your father, I’ll get a kick out of it.”

  “You made me call you sir when I was growing up. That’s how I think of you.”

  “I was a dick then, wasn’t I?” he asked, shaking his head with a self-deprecating smile. “A total dick.”

  Clayton stared at his father in a state of semi shock over what he had just said. His buttoned down, straight-laced, humorless father had called himself a dick, and he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt with jeans and sandals. And his ear was pierced. This transformation wasn’t new. He should be used to it by now, but he couldn’t figure out what the hell had happened to the man.

  “It’s all right, Clay. You can admit it. I was an asshole. Come on. Call me an asshole. You’ll feel better. My therapist says that it’s unhealthy to bottle up your feelings because they will manifest themselves in unhealthy ways. I know you think I’m an asshole, so call me one.”

  “I won’t. You are my father and I respect you.”

  “No, you don’t.” A waiter came over to take their drink orders and to Clayton’s surprise his father ordered a pina colada. He had never seen his father order anything other than whiskey or bourbon when they were out. “I learned some things about myself. One of those things is that I don’t like hard liquor. Never have. Just drank it because I thought it was the manly thing to do. I love fruity drinks. I don’t care who knows it. They’re delicious. They make me happy and I’m not less of a man because of it.”

  Clayton just blinked at his father not sure how, or if he should respond to that. “I respect you, sir.”

  “You’re a good soldier. You respect your elders and your commanding officers. Maybe you respect me out of duty, but I know you hate me.”

  “I don’t,” he said truthfully.

  “You tried to me kill me. You put my head through a wall.”

  He had lost control then. It was one of the few times he had. He could still feel his mother trying to pull him off. He could still see the trickle of blood that ran down his father’s face. “A man should respect a woman. I didn’t like the way you were treating my mother.” For years Clayton watched as his father debased their mother. Criticizing everything that she did, and the way she looked, and how she acted. And for so long Clayton never understood why. They had been happy once. He remembered them being happy, but something had changed. One day his father had turned cold. He had turned nasty. And it wasn’t until five years ago that Clayton learned why. His sweet, kind, gentle mother had had an affair while his father was gone. He couldn’t believe it. It just didn’t seem like something she would do. But his father had always been gone back then. Bosnia. The Gulf. Always on some secret mission. Always out of reach, unable to be contacted. Clayton had thought something over there had changed him, but it turned out it was something big on the home front that completely altered who he was.

  “I will never be okay with the way you treated her, but I understand why you were so angry for all those years. I don’t hate you, sir, but if you ever talk to her or any woman like that again I’ll put your head through another wall and next time no one will be there to stop me.”

  “Fair enough.” He shrugged. “Oh! The drinks are here. Mine has an umbrella.”

  *

  Clayton was just getting out of his car that evening when he saw Daisy’s Mustang pull up. He knew he should have kept walking into his house, but something made him stop. Maybe he wanted to get a glimpse of her, or maybe he wasn’t ready to go inside his house yet and think about the strange dinner he just had with his father.

  The man was trying. Trying to be a better person. Trying to spend time with him to make amends. Once a month they would meet and spend time together. Most of the time it was at a local sporting event. Minor league baseball, hockey or college football in the fall. His father wanted to spend time with him now. He was gone a lot when Clayton was a kid. And then Clayton was gone. They were practically strangers. His father seemed to want to change that, but Clayton had very little to say to the man. That’s why he liked to go to sporting events with him. They didn’t have to talk, but going to dinner with him was harder. Something from the past always came up. Something he’d rather not remember.

  “Hi, Clayton.” Daisy stepped out of her car wearing tight jeans, a cut up concert tee-shirt with one of her buttery-looking shoulders exposed and black h
eels. Her hair was loose and kind of wild. She looked like a total badass. A badass florist, carrying a bag full of groceries.

  “Hey.”

  “Hello, Mr. Calhoun.” The little girl, Aubrey was her name, waved at him, giving him that shy smile she always did.

  “Hi.” He waved back but didn’t go any closer. Daisy had come storming at him, pissed off and ready to spread his body parts across the state. He was pissed at first, but he admired her for being on guard and doing right for her kid. She hadn’t had it easy, a widow of a vet raising her sister’s kid alone. It was a lot for anyone.

  Maybe that’s why he kissed her. After she left he had searched his mind for a reason why. Normally he stayed away from women who had wild mood swings. And women with kids and definitely widows of vets, but he had kissed her and kissed her for a long time. She was beautiful and sad and she just looked like she needed to be kissed. And maybe he needed to kiss her. It would have felt wrong to let her walk out the door without doing so.

  “We’re going to have ice cream sundaes. Come join us.”

  “No thanks. I have some stuff to do.”

  Daisy walked over to him. “What do you have to do on a Saturday evening? Unless there is a woman involved I think you’re lying to me.”

  He couldn’t stop looking at her lips as she spoke and now he remembered why he had the overwhelming need to press his to hers. They were plump and smooth and the way she formed words with them was enticing and distracting.

  “Why do I need a woman to have plans? Maybe the stuff I’m doing I can do alone.”

  Those pretty eyes of hers narrowed slightly and a grin curled her lips. “You’ll have to tell me these plans.” Her voice went softer, quieter, sexier. “Or better yet, let me imagine them. I’ll need something to think about before I go to bed.”

  “You’re crazy. You know that?”

  “I do.” She sobered. “I still feel like crap. Let me apologize. Let me feed you ice cream. We’ve got all the fixings and two cans of whipped cream.”

  A thought of him licking whipped cream off her lips entered his head as well as an unexpected surge of desire. It had been a long time since he felt anything like that. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman made him feel anything close to that.

  “We’ve got bananas too,” he heard a small voice say. It was then he remembered he wasn’t alone with beautiful Daisy. There was a kid watching everything they did.

  “She wanted me to invite you over for dinner. She said it was neighborly. Come over for dessert. Twenty minutes. I promise I’ll be sane.”

  “Okay,” he said, knowing he should have said no. “Ice cream sounds good.”

  Her house was very similar to his in size and layout, but unlike his, it hadn’t been updated in the last fifty years. The windows needed to be replaced, the floors re-sanded, the baseboards totally redone, but the way Daisy had it decorated was a throwback to another time. She had 50s style replica appliances in her kitchen in a shiny white with chrome accents. Her kitchen cabinets were painted baby blue and a large rustic table that looked perfect for family meals.

  “Cool refrigerator.”

  “You like it?” She smiled at him as she set her groceries on the island. “I’ve always wanted a kitchen like in I Love Lucy, but more colorful. Danny, my husband, thought it was a huge waste of money, but when me and Cookie moved here I decided to get what I wanted. Because life is too short, you know?”

  “I do. Can I help you put away anything?”

  “No sit. You are our guest. Cookie, grab the ice cream bowls.”

  “Okay, Mama. What color bowl would you like, Mr. Calhoun?” Aubrey asked him sounding like a small adult.

  “What colors do you have?”

  “We have the rainbow. Mama likes things in color. She says black or white is never an option.”

  “Okay, I’ll take blue then.”

  She nodded and then climbed on a stool to retrieve to bowls. “Please have a seat. Mama usually picks blue. She says blue makes her feel calm, but since you’re our guest you get to have it. Mama can have red this time. That’s the color she picks when she’s feeling feisty.”

  He looked up at Daisy then who was smiling bashfully. “Don’t judge me.”

  “I’m not. What color do you pick, Aubrey?”

  “Green.”

  “Green is the color of balance and harmony. Is that why you picked it?”

  “No. I just like green.” She shrugged as she set the bowls and spoons down on the table and took the seat across from him.

  “Okay, Mr. Calhoun.” Daisy walked back over to them her arms full, her heels clicking on the hardwood floors. “We take our ice cream very seriously here. We have dulce de leche. Mexican chocolate, avocado coconut, or if you’re really feeling adventurous we have plain old vanilla.”

  “I want to taste them all.”

  “Ah,” she sighed. “The most perfect words in the English language.” She handed him a spoon. “We’re not fancy people here. Dig in.”

  Chapter 6

  She had only asked him to stay for twenty minutes, but an hour and a half later Clayton was still sitting in her kitchen. She hadn’t realized how much time had passed until Aubrey yawned and stood up.

  “I’m going to get ready for bed, Mama.”

  “You can stay up late. There’s no school tomorrow.”

  “I know, but I’m ready to go to bed.”

  “You need me to tuck you in?”

  “I can do it.” She kissed Daisy’s cheek before she turned around to face Clayton. “Goodnight.” She extended her hand and Clayton shook it. “Thank you for coming.”

  “Goodnight, Aubrey. Thank you for having me.” Clayton smiled again. It was a shame that his beard covered up so much of his face because she wanted to see more of it. He had one of those smiles that made his eyes crinkle in the corners. It was a very good smile.

  “Why do I feel like I’m talking to a fifty-year-old professor when I talk to her?” he asked when Aubrey had gone.

  “I ask myself that same question. She’s just like my sister was. Sometimes I feel like I’m talking to Jane.” She left the table and grabbed her handbag where she kept a small photo album and a million other things. “That’s Jane.” She handed him the last picture she and Jane had taken together.

  “You two look nothing alike.”

  She glanced at the picture she had looked at a thousand times. “She’s my exact opposite. Beautiful and brilliant and classy. She was perfect. She looks like Grace Kelly there. Hard to take your eyes off of, huh?”

  “She’s not your opposite,” he said in his deep quiet voice. “Opposite would mean that you are ugly and stupid and classless. I don’t know you well, Daisy, but I know that you are none of those things.”

  “You’re smooth.” She smiled at him, even though she felt kind of exposed in that moment.

  He looked away from the picture and locked eyes with her. “I’m not trying to be. Your sister is not the one I can’t look away from. I think the girl with the wild hair and the happy smile on her face is more beautiful than the one who is barely smiling at all.”

  “Oh.” She went around to the front of his chair, staring down at him for a moment before she buried her fingers deep into his thick mop of hair. It was an intimate thing to do to a man she barely knew, but she couldn’t stop herself. She pushed the hair out of his face and looked down into the icy blue eyes that crinkled when he smiled. “I would like to kiss your cheek, but your face is covered with a beard. I have the kind of lips that aren’t satisfied unless they feel skin beneath.”

  He said nothing as she leaned in closer to him. He just closed his eyes as her lips came in contact with his forehead. She let them linger there, probably a little longer than she should. But he smelled good, clean, like shampoo and fabric softener. It was in direct contrast with how one might think a man who looked like him would smell. There was something undeniably sweet about Clayton Calhoun. She had gone to bed thinking about him las
t night. How he gave her permission to cry. How he soothed her.

  She had never been soothed before. She had to keep it together when Jane died for Aubrey’s sake. She had to stay strong after Danny had passed for his mother. But a stranger had seen her at her most vulnerable. He made her feel safe enough to be vulnerable.

  She pulled her lips away from his skin, prepared to step away from him, but he grabbed her hips, slid his hands up beneath her shirt to her waist, and just stroked her there. His rough thumbs scraping across her smooth skin. Her nipples tightened unexpectedly, tingles rushed along her nerves, heat spread throughout her limbs.

  “I had dinner with my father tonight,” he said, taking a breath. “He’s changed a lot in the past couple of years. I’ve always heard that people can’t change, but he’s like a stranger to me now. Like somebody else’s father.”

  “And you don’t like the man he’s becoming?”

  “He’s a better person. My entire life people have told me that I was just like him. I look like him, and walk like him, and sound like him. I joined the army to be like him. I went to war like him. But I didn’t like him.”

  “Why not?” she asked as she lightly scratched his scalp.

  “Because he was a dick. A miserable unhappy dick.”

  “Those are the worst kind of dicks if you ask me.”

  The corner of his mouth curled into a half smile. “I don’t want to be one of those.”

  “You won’t be. Just find something that makes you happy.”

  “I’m trying.” He ran his hand across her stomach. She stiffened slightly. She had never been comfortable with anyone touching her there. Her stomach wasn’t flat or toned. She would never feel comfortable in a crop top or a bikini, but Clayton’s hands felt good, felt soothing and he had a way of looking at her that made her feel like she was beautiful. “I only told you that to stop myself from kissing you.”

  “Maybe I would like to be kissed.”

  “I wouldn’t be able to stop if I started. I want you. More than I thought was possible. More than one man should want a woman he barely knows. But you have a kid here and responsibilities and I might be moving away soon. I’m thinking I shouldn’t start something that I might not be able to finish.” He stood up, once again towering over her. “I’m going to go home now.”