Page 1 of The Curvy Girl's Father of the Bride
Chapter one
Louisa
My phone beeps and I check my texts:
Harlow 2:37pm: “Have you seen him yet?”
Thehimmy sister is referring to is Jeremy Byron, the father of the bride, my dad’s best friend, and the man I’ve been in love with my entire life.I know. I know.It’s complicated.
I fire off a reply:“No. We’re still in the car. We should be at the resort in about 15.”
Now I regret opening my big mouth. I only told my sisters my plan because I knew Harlow, in particular, understandscomplicatedbecause she’s engaged to our stepbrother Dawson.
Long story short, our mom has been married three times. Dad was her first husband, and we’re hoping Dawson’s father will be her last. They’ve only been together a few years, so obviously none of us had any sort of sibling relationship with Dawson. I only see him around the holidays when we’re forced to be together and barely know him. But that little factoid didn’t stop the biddies in our small town from going into overdrive with gossip.
I toss my phone in my purse and stare out at the rolling green hills. Tall grasses sway in the breeze. Patches of orange and purple wildflowers dot the landscape. The Beartooth Mountains that stretch across the Montana-Wyoming border lay in the background. The sight of their rugged peaks reaching up to the clear blue sky never fails to give me a sense of peace, and I remind myself that I’m here this weekend to support my godfather, not to jump his bones.
Although Jeremy is thrilled for his daughter Gillian and loves her fiancé Thomas, he knows life will never be the same. He was in his early twenties, around my age when he lost his wife. After the wedding, he’ll be all alone on his big ole rambling ranch in West Palomino. I close my eyes, letting myself drift off into fantasy land.
Jeremy is forty-seven now and drool-worthy gorgeous. Tall, still fit, muscular and sexy as hell, with a full head of salt and pepper hair. There’s a hint of grey in his stubble when he hasn’t shaved, and he has the most beautiful dark chocolate brown eyes I’ve ever seen. I don’t understand why he never remarried. Dad says it’s because every woman he dated was after his money.
He might be one of the wealthiest men in the state, but his money means nothing to me. Hell, I could probably support both of us on my salary. Not bad for twenty-four. I have my own real estate business and just bought my first house, so I’m fine.
The relaxation doesn’t stay with me for long. With images of my dream man flashing through my dirty mind, my heartbeat thuds in my ears, reverberating through my body. The thought of being around him for an entire weekend is as exciting as it is petrifying. My fantasy-plan is to knock on Jeremy’s door after Gilly and Thomas leave for their honeymoon, confess my undying love and hopefully land in his bed.
There’s always a chance I’ll make a fool of myself and horrify him, but there’s also a part of me that believes Jeremy won’t turn me down. I swear I’ve seen hunger in his eyes when he looks at me sometimes.
Every mile we cover, every field we pass, feels like I’m tiptoeing through a minefield in my brain. Somehow, I manage to keep it together during the drive without giving my secret away.
While Dad checks in at the counter, I scan the luxurious lobby. Rumor has it, Pleasure Ranch has a secret check-in desk where if you ask for aprivate riding lesson, a woman named Laramie will set you up with “company” if you catch my drift. I poke my head around the corner and sure enough, there’s a lady behind a desk next to the fireplace with three people waiting in line forhelp. Should I sneak over there and find out if the rumors are true?
“Louisa? Is that you?” A thousand butterflies launch in my stomach at the sound of that familiar deep husky voice. I turn and break into a grin. “Jeremy!” He comes in for a hug and I melt into his strong, muscular arms.
“How’s my favorite goddaughter?” His dark brown eyes give me an appreciative once over. It happens so quickly though, I’m not sure if he likes what he sees, or if he’s only being polite.
“Your only goddaughter,” I remind him and he chuckles on cue. I can’t take my eyes off his lips. Shit, I’m melting here. It doesn’t help that it’s ninety degrees today and I’m wearing a sweater.
“There you are.” A woman’s voice rings through the lobby and we both turn. “Mr. Byron.” A pretty brunette a little older than me waves with a lovely smile. Her heels click over the hardwood floor as she rushes to us. “We need your final approval for those flowers.” She bats her long eyelashes at Jeremy. “Remember? We scheduled a meeting?”
He sends a private look that tells me he’s not happy, but graciously answers, “Of course. The flowers. How could I forget?” The woman grins and has the audacity to loop her arm through his. Before she ushers him out the door, Jeremy turns. “Tell your dad I’ll catch up with you two later. Glad you’re here.”
It takes about five minutes for my heart to beat normally again. By the time we get to our rooms, I can’t wait to change out of my jeans and sweater. It was cooler when we left the house this morning. Dad is in the room next door and needs to catch up on work, but I’m ready to check out the pool. A quick swim will hopefully clear my head.
I unzip my suitcase, fingers brushing over the silky material of my new vintage polka dot bathing suit. It’s retro, cut dangerously high on the hips, low on the chest, and flatters my curvy figure in all the right places. I strip down and slip into the swimsuit and study my reflection in the full-length mirror with a grin. This is by far the most revealing suit I’ve ever owned and nothing like the standard swim-dress style I usually buy. I won’t be disappearing into any crowds wearing this baby.
I tug on a loose, breezy cover-up, and with one last glance at the mirror, I grab my room key and head out.
Pleasure Ranch Resort is the perfect country getaway for anyone who craves a side of opulence with their vacation. To my right, the main building houses several high-end restaurants, a luxurious spa, and other amenities. To my left, a cluster of cabins and suites blend seamlessly into the lush landscaping.
I saunter in my flip-flops down the meandering path and follow the signs to the pool tucked away behind foliage and a hedge of fragrant pink roses. The sound of splashing water fills the air before I turn the corner. Sunlight refracts off the water’s surface. Loungers dot the area, scattered under the shade of fancy umbrellas. The bar, at the far end, is packed and buzzing with activity.
Instinctively, I scan the space for Jeremy but know he’s probably still stuck in the meeting with the flower lady. I tighten my grip around my beach bag and look for an open lounge chair with shade.
Chapter two
Jeremy
The moment I step into my private cabana I exhale the stress I’ve been holding.
