Gentlemen Prefer Curves: A Perfect Fit Novel

by Sugar Jamison

  It took a moment for Belinda to follow her mother’s rapid changes in subject. “Is it too early for liquor?”

  A few minutes later they headed to the picnic area, fry bread and coffees in hand. Belinda was half listening as her mother went on about her aunt Azuela, who was having man troubles again.

  “I told Azuela that maybe she should try computer dating. My friend Martina, you remember her, don’t you, Pudge? She just got engaged to a nice man that lives in Hoboken.”

  “That’s nice,” Belinda replied automatically as a group of children caught her eye. Schoolchildren out and about in Durant wasn’t out of the ordinary. It was a kid-friendly place. But there was one child who caught her eye.

  Ruby. First the father, now the daughter.

  Crap.

  She was sitting away from the other children, almost directly across from Belinda, her little legs far too short to reach the ground. Her hair was a mess. She was wearing a carrot-orange shirt and pink skirt and flat strappy gold sandals.

  Shit, damn, and hell.

  It was a warm day for early spring but it was barely sixty degrees out. Too cold for bare legs and sandals. She wasn’t sure why she cared. Why did it bother her? The kid probably didn’t even feel cold.

  “I’ll be back in a bit, Mamá.”

  She purchased a little handmade cardigan from a nearby booth and approached Ruby even as her brain was screaming at her to turn away. “Hey, kid.”

  “Oh, hello,” she said softly.

  “You’ve got great taste in shoes.”

  “Thank you.” Her cheeks went pink. “They’re like yours.”

  That stupid achy, tuggy feeling snuck up in her chest again.

  She’s Carter’s kid. Stay away.

  But she’s Carter’s kid. Carter’s cute, motherless, burn-victim kid.

  “So I saw this sweater over there and I thought you would look pretty stinking cute in it. Do you think you could put it on for me?”

  Ruby nodded and Belinda helped her into the sweater, noting that her skin was cold. “I’m really surprised that your father let you out of the house without a sweater on.”

  “He lets me pick out my clothes now. I’m a big girl.”

  “I know, but you’re going to be big frozen Popsicle. If you want to wear skirts, you should get some leggings or tights. Okay? And a couple of little funky cardigans.”

  She stopped herself from saying any more. She sounded like somebody’s worrying mother.

  Belinda looked into the little girl’s small serious face and then at the classmates she was sitting away from and realized something was wrong. “Why aren’t you eating junk food and being a loud giggly kid like everybody else? Not that’s there’s anything wrong with sitting quietly. I actually prefer my children that way. But what’s wrong?”

  “My dad forgot we had a field trip today, so he didn’t give me money.” She shrugged. “It’s okay, though. I don’t need to have a snack. I’ve got a lard butt.”

  Belinda stopped herself from swearing. “Who told you that you have a lard butt?”

  “Elroy.” She looked at a small blond child who was sitting at the head of the table with a group of very rowdy boys. She recognized the kid. She knew his father. They had gone to school together.

  “Elroy? Don’t you let that little pointy-eared dumbass make you feel bad about yourself. You do not have a lard butt!”

  Ruby grinned at her, showing off her two missing front teeth. “I don’t think grown-ups are supposed to talk about kids that way.”

  Belinda shrugged. “I’m not like most grown-ups, and don’t ever let anybody make you feel like you aren’t beautiful or less than wonderful. Because you are, and if they try, you let them have it.”

  Why the hell did she just say that? What business did she have giving advice to a five-year-old? None! But she couldn’t help it.

  She looked at Ruby, remembering what it was like to be her age, remembering what it was like to be teased unmercifully when she was a child. Ruby didn’t look like most kids. She had a grown-up face and frizzy hair and a round little belly. But she was gorgeous, and if she didn’t believe that about herself now she was going to have a hell of a time come adolescence. “I’ve got money.” She took a ten-dollar bill out of her pocket and pressed it into Ruby’s hand.

  “Oh, no, thank you.”

  “I want you to have it. I want you to get something nice from here and I want you to try some of this fry bread. It’s one of my favorite things.”

  “Excuse me, ma’am. I’m Ruby’s teacher—”

  “It’s okay, Miss Milan,” Ruby said so quietly her teacher had to lean in to hear her. “She’s not a stranger. She’s my daddy’s wife.”

  “His wife?” Miss Milan asked tightly.

  “Yup.” Belinda tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled. It was true at least for the time being. “We’ve been married for years. I hope it’s okay that I share a little snack with Ruby.”

  “Sure. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes. Ruby, please join us at the other table when you’re finished.” She smiled stiffly and walked away.

  “Your teacher wouldn’t happen to think your dad is hot, would she?”

  “A lot of ladies do.”

  “Of course.”

  “Pudge?”

  Belinda looked up to see her mother frowning at her in confusion. She had all but forgotten about her mother when she saw Ruby sitting alone. “I’m sorry. I saw my friend.”

  Ruby tugged on Belinda’s dress. “Is that your mommy?” she whispered.

  “Yeah. How did you know?”

  “You’re pretty like her.”

  “Oh, what a brilliant child!” Carmina sat on the other side of Ruby. “I keep telling my Belinda that she looks like me. She doesn’t like her red hair, but it’s beautiful, too, no?”

  They spent the next few minutes talking and eating fry bread while Carmina heaped attention on Ruby. When it was time to go back to her class, Ruby was smiling. Belinda was sad to see her go and she wasn’t sure why. Ruby is the last child on the planet she should be spending time with.

  “Belinda, who was that delightful child? She’s so smart. She reminds me of you as a little girl. I like her very much.”

  The funny thing was, Belinda kind of liked her, too—which was bad. “That’s Carter’s daughter.”

  “Oh?”

  She looked at her mother, expecting her to say something, anything, but she didn’t. Even if her mother had no thoughts about the little girl and the man who was her father, Belinda had plenty of them. She couldn’t be around the kid anymore, just like she couldn’t be around the kid’s father. But it was going to be impossible to avoid them. The only way was to move out of Durant.

  “I’m thinking about moving away for a year, Mamá. Maybe to Spain. I really loved it there when we visited last winter.”

  Carmina looked at her, raised one of her perfectly arched eyebrows, and said, “No. Absolutely not. Over my dead body.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Stop in the name of love …

  Carter watched his daughter as she bopped her head from side to side and swirled spaghetti around her fork. It was one of his few attempts at cooking, and while it was far from five-star, it was edible and it wasn’t takeout or fast food. Now that he was home earlier he could cook for Ruby or at least try to. His last two tries hadn’t gone so well. He burned the hell out of the instant rice he was cooking, and the pancakes he’d tried got so stuck to the pan they couldn’t be salvaged. But the spaghetti came out okay. Ruby wasn’t complaining about it, and for the first time in a long time she seemed … happy. And he was relieved. For so long he felt like he had no idea what to do when it came to her. He still didn’t, but lately he hoped that he was making his way to the right track.

  “Did you have a good day, Rube?”

  “Yes, we saw a lady making baskets at the fair and a man let us paint on his big picture.”

  “Shit,” he swore and then immediately shook his h
ead. “Sorry. I know. I owe money to the cuss jar. But I was supposed to give you money for your field trip, wasn’t I?”

  “Yes.” She stared down at her plate, unable to make eye contact. His stomach sank. “But it’s okay. Your wife gave me some.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I saw your wife today,” she said barely above a whisper. He knew his tone had been too sharp. “She gave me some money for the trip.”

  “Shit.”

  What were the chances that Ruby would run into Belinda the same day they had their own run-in? The same day she kissed the breath out of him. The same day he found out something no son wanted to hear about his parents.

  They’d tried to pay her to leave him. His father had treated her like a prostitute when he offered her to his richer friends. It was the only way he could describe what they’d done to her. They hadn’t treated her like his wife, like somebody who deserved respect. They’d treated her like a problem to be dealt with, like somebody unworthy of human kindness. And as much as he hated what they’d done to her, as much as it disgusted him, he couldn’t stomach what they did to him. His parents didn’t care for him enough to respect his decisions. They went behind his back, they manipulated things to go their way. And for what? To preserve their reputation? It sure as hell wasn’t to preserve his happiness. He could never do that to Ruby. He could never pull her away from somebody who made her happy.

  Belinda may have walked away from him, but his parents had driven a huge wedge between them long before she did.

  He called his parents to confirm what Belinda had thrown at him because at first he hadn’t believed her. He didn’t want to believe her, but he knew it was true. His mother wasn’t home when he called, her cell phone going to voice mail when he tried calling there. His father was out of town on business, unreachable to him for the next few days. It was probably a good thing, he supposed. He was too worked up to think straight.

  They had always tried to control his life. He thought it was over when he and Bethany broke up, but he was wrong. They still manipulated him at every turn.

  “She gave me the sweater, too. But I didn’t spend the money, Daddy,” he heard Ruby say as one reached into her pocket and produced a crumpled ten-dollar bill. “I’m sorry. You said not to take things from strangers but I didn’t think she was a stranger no more.”

  She looked close to tears, and he realized how he had been looking at her. He sighed. What kind of child did he have who blamed herself for his failures? “You don’t need to be sorry, Ruby. I’m sorry. I’m the one who messed up. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself. Please forgive me.”

  “It’s okay.” She left her side of the table and crawled into his lap. “I like my sweater.” She stroked her arm down the soft white wool. “Do I gotta to give it back to her?”

  “No. Of course not. I’m just wondering why she bought you a sweater.”

  “Because I was cold. She said I needed to wear sweaters and tights when I leave the house because it’s not warm yet. She said she was surprised you let me leave the house without one.”

  “Did she?” He felt himself growing angry. She was giving his kid money, buying her a sweater, making him feel like he was an incompetent parent. Acting like … She was acting like a mother would. What the hell gave her the right? She could have stayed. They could have made things work, but she didn’t stay, and he was raising Ruby alone. She’d lost her right to have an opinion about her the day she walked out on him.

  “I don’t like it when you’re mad, Daddy. I’ll give the sweater back.”

  “I’m not mad at you, baby. I promise. You can keep your sweater,” he said even though he wanted it out of his house. Every time he looked at it he would know the source, but he wasn’t a petty man. He would never dream of asking his daughter to give back something that made her happy. “Tell me about the rest of your day.”

  She looked up at him unsure for a moment. She could read his moods better than anybody. He was angry but he didn’t want her to know that. He didn’t want her to know how miserable his day had been.

  “Talk to me.” He pressed a kiss into her curls. She relaxed then.

  “Your wife and her mommy shared some fry bread with me. Do you know what fry bread is, Daddy? It’s like fried dough but puffy. The Native Americans invented it. I liked it. Belinda’s had honey and powdered sugar on it and Mrs. Gordon’s had apples and cinnamon on it.”

  Carter’s head spun as he tried to keep up with her story. “Belinda ate with you?”

  “We talked, Daddy. She shared her snack with me because you forgot to give me money and she told me I didn’t have a lard butt and that I was beautiful and if anybody tried to make me feel bad to let them have it.”

  He inhaled, taking all of what she said in. The knot in his stomach was growing larger with every word she spoke.

  “Daddy?”

  “Yes, babe?”

  She looked up at him shyly. “I know I said I wouldn’t like her for you, but is it okay if I do?”

  What could he say to that? How could he tell his daughter not to like her? What kind of man would he be if she said no? “Sure, you can like her. It’s okay with me.”

  She smiled at him, a full bright smile that he hadn’t seen in a very long time. “Can I go color now?”

  “Yes, but make sure you read first.”

  He sat there for a long moment, knowing what he was going to have to do but not liking it. Belinda and he couldn’t be friends. Their lives couldn’t intersect. He had come to New York to divorce her and he would. After that he wanted no part of her. If they were going to live in the same town she was going to have to stay the hell away from his kid.

  *

  Belinda sat in her den staring at the monitor of her desktop. She had off from work that day but she still liked to get some work done at home. Mother’s Day was less than two months away, and she was trying to stock the store with gift items. It never failed: Every year at Christmas, Valentine’s Day, and Mother’s Day, a bunch of hapless men would flock to Size Me Up looking for gifts for their wives and mothers. She was about to place an order for silk robes when she heard her doorbell. Glancing at her clock, she saw that it was almost lunchtime. And that meant it was probably her father. Sometimes he would stop by so he could take her out for burgers and beer. She had wanted to tell her father long ago that she hated beer, but she couldn’t bring herself to. If she had to choke down a Bud once in a while to make her father happy, she would. Her father liked to spend time with her even though she knew he’d rather have a son. He was still a good dad.

  She opened her front door and instead of seeing a man in sweatpants and a Durant U windbreaker she saw a man in dark trousers and a crisp white buttondown shirt. He was the last man she ever expected to see at her door. “Carter? How did you find out where I live?”

  His jaw was tight. He looked no happier since the last time she saw him less than twenty-four hours ago. His hands were empty. She expected to see the heavy packet of divorce papers. It was the only reason he had for coming here. To finally put an end to their marriage.

  “You’re listed in the phone book. Can I come in?”

  He didn’t wait for her answer, instead just brushed by her to get in her house. She couldn’t help but notice how rock-hard his body was as it briefly touched hers. He used to jog every morning when they were together. She could still see him in her mind. Shirtless and sweaty. His body more beautiful than any man she had ever seen. She wondered if that was a habit that he still kept up. She also wondered why instead of her attraction to him diminishing over the years, it was more intense than ever.

  She shut the door behind her and turned to face him. He was staring at her, his hard eyes taking her in, his face nearly expressionless. Immediately she felt self-conscious. The way she always had around him. Her hair was too red, her skin too tawny, her body too thick to pass his inspection. But she wouldn’t let him know that. She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “Why are you here, Carte
r?”

  “I don’t want you giving my kid money.” He held out a crumpled ten-dollar bill. “She doesn’t need anything from you.”

  She was bewildered for a moment, not expecting that from him. “You forgot to give her money, Carter. She was sitting by herself on her field trip while the kids around her were laughing and eating snacks. You may not remember being a five-year-old but it sucks to be the only kid without.”

  He stepped closer to her. “She doesn’t go without. I give her what she needs. I don’t need you interfering in her life.”

  “It’s ten fucking dollars,” she snapped, feeling her temper rise dangerously. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “It’s not just the ten dollars. It’s the sweater you bought her. It’s that you told her what I should allow her to wear. I don’t need you critiquing my parenting. I don’t need you anywhere near my child. I don’t want you to talk to her.”

  She laughed bitterly, not allowing the hurt to clog her chest. “You’re just like them. You don’t think I’m good enough to be around your kid. Just like I wasn’t good enough for you.”

  “That’s not true, damn it. I married you. I wanted you. I never thought you weren’t good enough.”

  “Then why are you here, Carter? Why are you in my house demanding that I stay away from your kid? I’m not trying to corrupt her. All I—”

  “You left me because you didn’t want her.”

  “What?”

  “You walked out on me—on our marriage—because you didn’t want to be around my child. Because you were too selfish to even try to love her.”

  She hadn’t realized that she had raised her hand to hit him until she heard the crack of her hand across his cheek. His comment was so cruel it took her breath away. She would have loved Ruby, because she loved him. But he didn’t love her. If he did, he would have told her the truth. He would have noticed how his family and friends treated her. He would have realized how unhappy she was all along. “Is that what you think of me? You think I left because of Ruby? She was just a baby. She was the only innocent one in this. I left because you never told me about your first wife. I left because I realized I was married to a stranger who I was never going to be good enough for.”