Mick: My Curvy Girl

by Fox, Nicky

  I’m not surprised by Barret’s wake-up call. He often does this when he has a day off.

  “Barret! Wait! Who’s watching the salon? I know you were scheduled for right now.” Barret puts his fingers over my lips.

  “Shush, doll. I got Candy to come in. This is an emergency. I know your who-ha hasn’t been pounded to oblivion in quite a while. You need this. I’m here for you.” He smiles.

  “Barret, Candy isn’t the most reliable person to be watching the salon. Oh my gosh. We need to get down there right now.” In fact, she’s a flake. The store probably still has the Closed sign hanging and the doors locked.

  “Chill, chicka, I let her in and showed her the ropes. She’s been shadowing me for a while. You know I can get her on the straight and narrow … well, narrow.” He winks. “Anyway, it’s handled. Loosen up and let’s get you a new dress for your fabulous date with the hot cop.” Barret pops a piece of gum in his mouth and smacks it loudly. He says I eat loudly. Yeah, right.

  “I don’t think I’m going out with him. He’s just not my type,” I mumble against my pillow.

  “Hot cop and tempting with handcuffs to boot is not your type? Liar!” He calls my bluff. I roll my eyes and get up out of bed.

  “Mick is his name. Not Hot Cop.” I throw a pillow at his face and it’s a direct hit. He laughs.

  Barret gazes off dreamily, thinking about my hot cop, no doubt. He even fans himself. “Mick. His name is Mick? How hot is that? I wonder if Mick has a big di—”

  “You should go on a date with him,” I snap, interrupting him for my own sanity.

  “Girl, that boy was drooling all over your chi-chis. Plus, he’s as straight as Benedict Cumberbatch.” Barret lets out a humph. I go to him and give him a hug from behind.

  “It’s okay, babe. You’ve got Hugh Jackman, Lance Bass, Neil Patrick Harris, Wentworth Miller, Ricky Martin! The list goes on.” He pats my arms.

  “Hugh Jackman is not gay, sweetie.” He lays his head back against me.

  “What!? Seriously?” I look at him incredulously.

  “Yeah. Damn. These pillows are nice.” Barret nuzzles into my boobs.

  “Okay, okay.” I move away and push his shoulder. He laughs again.

  “We’re going to have to get you ready for the ball, Cinderella.” I’m not excited for what is about to transpire. Barret can talk wardrobe for hours. Don’t even get him started on evening hair. I’m really in for it now, as he’s about to go full Red Carpet Hollywood on me and I won’t even have the strength to resist his persuasive power.

  I slip on a simple jersey dress while he gazes at all my piles of clothes on the floor. “Girl, you’re a mess.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” He crosses his legs on his perch atop of my bed.

  “You left your door unlocked again. I’m surprised your roommate doesn’t get pissed at you.” I drop the shoe I’m holding in my hands.

  “What? No way. I totally locked up last night. Maybe Evie forgot to lock it.” Then I backtrack. Evie would never forget to lock the door, especially with her predicament right now. She has a stalker problem. I glance at Barret and he shakes his head. “I still have that 38 Special. I’ll be okay, Bear Bear.” It’s my nickname for him. He hates it. I ignore his glare and head to the bathroom to put my hair in a top knot. I know I’m never going to get out of this so I might as well humor him.

  After wolfing down a bowl of cereal, with Barret looking appalled at my eating the entire time, we’re on our way to a clothing store I frequent. I don’t really think I need a new dress, but I don’t want to spoil Barret’s fun.

  “Okay, pretty woman. How about a red dress?” I roll my eyes.

  “Can you be any more cliché?” I giggle and he shrugs. We go through the racks mostly in silence, but I can see him in the corner of my eye draping one dress after the other on his arm. Damn. This is going to take longer than I thought. If it was up to Barret, we’d be doing this all day. I huff and just sit down in one of the waiting chairs. He winks at me as if to say, That’s right, girl. Leave the glam transformation up to me.

  Two hours later, I’m walking out with my dress. It was even on sale. Barret snatched an awesome find. I’m actually pretty excited to see if Mick will like this dress on me. We grab a quick bite of lunch; all the while Barret is convincing me to go on this date. Little does he know, I’ve already decided to go because I look killer in this dress and if anything, it’ll leave a lasting impression on Mick. I want his tongue to drop to the floor and give it to his partner for being so rude. I’m just not sure where Mick stands in all of this. Can he handle this curvy girl with a lush ass and all the sass?

  Barret and I talk over lunch about what to say and not say on my date. Apparently, Barret thinks I can’t talk like normal women and I tend to word vomit all the weird shit that goes on in my head. I see it like this, if I’m dating someone, they to take me as I am. If they don’t like it, then we don’t need to be dating. Barret thinks it’s too much too soon. I tell him I might consider dialing back on my weirdness for him. Apparently, Barret has a feeling about this hot cop.

  “Okay, sweetie. Off to the salon for your hair and makeup. You know I can’t do makeup worth a shit, but your hair is mine.” I nod my head. I knew he would be doing my hair for this date. He’s my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s been there for me through jerks and one-night stands, crying phone calls, parental drama, and all the drama that comes along with the salon. We’re thick as thieves. Although, I love having some girlfriends I can count on when I need them as well. I think Barret has this date covered.

  We arrive at the salon and Candy hasn’t burned down the place. Everything looks as it should. She even has a client in her chair. Maybe I need to delegate responsibility out more often. Sometimes I feel I can only count on myself, but this shows that I might have backup when I need it.

  “Okay, let the real magic begin.” Barret rubs his hands together in delight. I shake my head.

  “You know you’re not cutting my hair, right?” I put my hand on my hip. He knows I like it long.

  “Those cherry locks will stay, sweetie. I’m merely making a masterpiece with what you have.” I give him a kiss on the cheek and sit down in his chair. He pulls the cape around me and gets started.

  “We’re going to have to find you a boyfriend soon,” I say.

  “Tell me about it, honey. I need a man in the worst way. Believe me. I’m working on it.” He concentrates on my hair after that and in no time, soft waves cascade around my face. He really made my hair look like that of a Victoria’s Secret model ready to rock the runway.

  “I love it!” I stand up and flick my hair over my shoulder and watch it settle on my back. I give Barret a big smile and hug him for all his hard work. I feel like a princess. I feel like the star of my own Pretty Woman. A curvy, fabulous Julia Roberts. “You’re the best. You know that?”

  Barret acts like he’s flipping his hair. “You know I do.”

  I laugh and play with my hair. I can’t wait for my date.

  4

  Mick

  I’m so nervous. It’s not like I haven’t dated. Since I’ve been in the academy, I haven’t had any time or made time for a relationship. Not serious ones, anyway. The pull that Maggie has is all new to me. I want to get this right. There’s something about her that calls to me. It’s nuts this early in the relationship but it feels like she’s my person. I don’t know if we have anything in common besides the kind of donuts we like, but it wouldn’t matter to me.

  The parking lot to the salon is fairly empty. It’s about closing time, almost time for our date. I try to calm myself down, taking a couple deep breaths in and out. It steadies my heartbeat. I’ve been a wreck since I made the date with her yesterday, and have been counting down the minutes—hell, the seconds—until six. Opening the car door, I adjust my jeans. I’ve had to do that a lot lately since a certain girl has been consuming my mind. I run my hands through my hair a coupl
e of times, remembering her cutting my hair. I reach the salon door. Here goes nothing. A ding alerts my entrance and then I stop in my tracks.

  “Holy fuck,” I say, or she says. Someone says it. I don’t know. I can’t focus on anything except her. Maggie slightly waves at me and I’m sure I look like a total tool with my mouth hanging open and a dumbfounded look on my face. I can’t help it. She looks more beautiful than any of my fantasies conjured up in the past. I’m standing in the middle of her shop with a woody and an audience of her, her assistant, and some other chick I haven’t seen before.

  “Hi,” she says, adjusting her red dress. That fucking dress. If you can call it that. It’s more like a bustier pushing up her amazing rack as a gift. A gift I’d love to unwrap and enjoy. This dress clings to every delicious curve. I’m surprised I’m not falling to my knees right now to worship the gorgeous goddess standing before me. I think I reply with a hi, but I’m not sure.

  “Aww, Mags. You’ve stupefied him,” Barret laughs. “Y’all are so adorable. I want to go on a date with you too. But I won’t because that’s weird. Anyway, you two have fun!” Barret spanks me on the butt on his way out of the salon.

  “Sorry about him, he’s incorrigible. Barret’s hard not to love.” She giggles. “Do you like my dress?”

  I love it so much on your curves that I want to tear it off with my teeth. My mind finally calms down and I’m able to form words that sound classy instead like a sex-starved pervert.

  “I’m obsessed with that dress; however, on anyone else, I don’t think I’d appreciate it as much as I do on you.” I’m not bullshitting either. That dress was made for her. Damn. I’m lucky to be going on a date with this stunning siren. Maggie touches her breast and my eyes linger there.

  “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She comes toward me and gives me a hug. My eyes roll back in my head as I feel every curve of her body against mine. Fuck. She feels perfect against my body. Without declaring that I’d die to worship her body for the rest of my life, I turn on my heel and raise my arm for her to hold on to.

  “Are you ready?” I’m so ready. We get in my truck and I immediately go for her hand across the bench. She smiles, our hands clasped together. Maggie seems more at ease about this date than the day before. I had to run off yesterday before she could say no. I’m glad she’s giving this a chance. I decide not to turn on the radio, wanting us to talk and needing to know everything about this girl.

  “Are you okay? You seemed a bit jumpy when you first came in.” Maggie moves some hair behind her ear. She’s being shy now. I know what she’s really asking. Yes, beautiful. You left me speechless. I don’t want to scare her off so I say . . .

  “Yeah, you just look breathtaking, is all.” I wipe my sweaty hand on my black pants and grab for her hand again. It seems we’re both nervous.

  “So . . . where are we going?” She looks around at the scenery passing by through her window. I’m taking her out of the city and to a great Southern food restaurant on the edge of town. I think Maggie’s going to love this. They have chicken fried steak and the best gravy I’ve ever tasted. Don’t even get me started on their biscuits. It’s hands down my favorite place to eat. I hope she likes it as much as I do. Maggie’s a bit overdressed for the establishment, but she’ll be looking gorgeous on my arm.

  “It’s a surprise. You’re going to love it.” I can just smell the baked biscuits now and all that butter. I can’t wait for Maggie to see this place. I thought about taking her to the nice Italian place downtown, but that just seemed too generic for my goddess. I wanted to really show her what I like. Nothing says me more than good ole’ southern food. I wanted a relaxing atmosphere for us to get to know each other better. That wouldn’t happen in some stuffy restaurant.

  “You know, I wonder why a bikini sometimes cost more than a one-piece. I mean, it’s less material, right?” Maggie interrupts my thoughts with some zany one of her own. That, right there is why I like this girl. She’s different. A woman who marches to the beat of her own drum. I could tell from the moment I laid eyes on her. The way she moved and carried herself like she’s doesn’t give a shit what people think.

  “Yeah,” I reply, smiling to myself.

  “Yeah. Do you know that doctor’s office, Care Now?” I nod my head in acknowledgement. “What about later? I mean you should need care now and later, like the candy. I could use a Now and Later right now. Did you ever try those as a kid?” Chuckling, I reply yes. “Those were the bomb. I liked those a lot. They get stuck in my teeth though.”

  “You nervous, Maggie?” Glancing over, I notice her wringing her hands in her lap. It seems any random thought that comes into her head she just blurts out. I’m loving every minute of it. I want something real like this. Real like her.

  “Yeah. I tend to ramble when I’m nervous. Sorry.” Maggie stills her hands and looks over at me.

  “You don’t have to apologize, cupcake. I love hearing what’s going on in your head.” She twists her head, cocking it in a way that makes her look like a curious cat.

  “Cupcake?” She squints her eyes, like she’s not sure about the sentiment. I put my truck in park and give her my undivided attention.

  “Yeah. You’re sweet and look delicious. Plus, your personality is like sprinkles on top.” I waggle my eyebrows up and down while I open the door to exit the truck.

  5

  Maggie

  I’m a cupcake. He called me a cupcake with sprinkles on top. I don’t think I’ve heard a better compliment in my life. This guy and his compliments make my stomach flutter. He makes me feel all sorts of things other things. It’s just a first date, I tell myself. Maybe he’s just laying it on thick, but he seems like the most genuine man I’ve ever met. I’ve been fooled before though. However, Barret likes him. That says something. Barret has never liked any of the guys I’ve dated. Although, I haven’t dated much. He’s probably just doing this for fun too. He’s a single cop. I bet he gets around a lot. He’s hot. There has to be ladies all over his stick.

  “Whatcha thinking about over there?” No big deal. Just thinking about you, Mick, and your stick. Mick waves his menu at me to grab my attention. “Is this place okay?” I take in the rough worn wood floors littered with knots. The floral café curtains over every window. Antiques hang from the walls and ceiling. Booths frame the room while traditional tables are sprinkled throughout the rest of the space. I see an old wash tub, wooden spoons, jam jars, and vintage signs that tell you to “come back now, ya hear.” It reminds me of a place my grandma would go after church. When she smothered her plate in gravy and left her plate clean.

  “I love it.” I keep it simple. I don’t want to go on about my grandmother. She’s the one who raised me. My parents checked out a long time ago. The only decent thing they did was give me to her. My life was exponentially better after that. They were drug addicts who neglected me until I was of school age. When I wasn’t making it to school like I should, the authorities took notice and my parents relinquished control over to my grandmother. She was so welcoming and warm. That was the best day of my life. It was the first time I felt safe. It was the first time I had a home and my own room, with food in my belly.

  Looking over this place makes me feel like I’m back with my grandmother. I never knew it was here. Granted, I never went far from downtown Plano. Those are my stomping grounds but seeing this place makes me realize I need to get out more, step foot away from my salon and experience new things like this.

  “What are you going to order?” Mick talks through his menu.

  “I think I’ll have the chicken fried steak.” My grandmother would have ordered that. It was her favorite dish. I’d like to see how it compares to the place we used to visit in Dallas.

  “Good choice. I’m going to have the same.” He closes his menu and takes a sip of his water. “So, Maggie. I know you own the salon, like Sherlock Holmes, and donuts. Tell me more. I want to know what you do outside of the salon.”r />
  Mick’s beautiful blue eyes are so dreamy. It’s like he’s looking right through me. He sees me. The real Maggie. I look down to break his piercing gaze and think about what else I do. Pinching my mouth so I don’t blab anything that comes to mind, like masturbate.

  “Well, I like cereal too.” That sounded so lame. I take a deep breath as Mick nods his head. He’s giving me time to get my thoughts together. Mick is genuinely interested in me. It’s so nice to be on a date with a guy who isn’t looking at my rack the whole time or scheming to get into my pants. Sensing my nervousness, he lays his hand over mine, calming me. I close my eyes and wiggle my fingers under his. Then I say the first thing that comes to my mind. “I have a gun.” Cereal? A gun? Can you vomit any more words, Maggie? Geez. My eyes open wide with my confession and I wait to see what he says. It’s like I’m trying to scare him away.

  “Me too.” He chuckles. His warm smile eases my nerves and I know I haven’t scared him away. “We could go to the gun range sometime. Have you ever been to one?”

  Shaking my head, I squeeze his hand. Any normal guy would be asking for the check by now to run away from my crazy. I’m glad he’s not. I don’t know if this is self-sabotage or something else but he’s not leaving.

  “What else?” Mick asks.

  Good thing I don’t have a dating profile. I’d sound like a loon. I like donuts, cereal, and guns. Oh, and I use scissors in my line of work. Yep, total murderer profile right there. Mick could be profiling me right now, for all I know. I look at his handsome face. His dimples peek out at me and I think of him with his gun. It makes me bite my lip. Damn. I want this hot cop in my bed.