Fat & Fine (Big & Beautiful Book 5)

by Mary E Thompson

  “No, Sam, you did nothing wrong. I’m the meathead who dragged you in here like a caveman then attacked you like I had a right to you. I hope you’ll still join the gym, but I promise not to bother you again. Those guys will never come back here, but you won’t have to worry about me either.”

  Brady jumped to his feet then pulled the door open. He walked to the other side of the office away from me. He didn’t look at me, but I could see fear and frustration in his eyes. It made me want to know more about him.

  He was apologizing to me like he’d done something wrong. I’d encouraged him. I wanted him. So why was he acting like he was the only one who’d started something?

  “Brady,” I began softly.

  “Sam, don’t. It’s okay. I know I scared you and I don’t blame you. Please, just go.”

  I didn’t know what to say to him so I left. I was barely out of the office when I heard the telltale click of the lock. It felt like my heart was breaking in my chest. I wondered when my instincts had gotten so fucked up. Blaine and Cade I trusted without a second thought. Two guys who hurt me for no reason. But Brady… Brady defended me, comforted me, and told me he wanted me, and I couldn’t believe him.

  There was something seriously wrong with me.

  I was too upset to finish my workout so I gathered my stuff and decided on working from home for the day. I went outside into the bright sunshine and was halfway to my car when I wanted to kick myself. I stopped in the parking lot to decide what to do but shook my head and went to my car.

  I wasn’t ready to go home and face the silence alone, but I didn’t really have anywhere I could go. Claire was giving a presentation at Addi’s school, an end of year thing, Mandy and Lexi were working, and there was no privacy at Bite Me! to talk to Charlie. On top of that, none of them would understand why I was so upset about Brady.

  There was only one person who knew what happened with Cade.

  I pulled into the small parking lot next to READ and shook my head. I was seeking out advice from a basic stranger instead of talking to my closest friends. But I knew she’d listen and understand. She’d sympathize.

  The bells on the door clanged when I pushed through. I caught a whiff of my sweaty smell and nearly turned right back around, but then I heard Riley’s voice. “You’re back already?”

  I smiled. “Yeah. I’m a little sweaty though. I should have taken a shower first.”

  Riley cocked her head at me, seeing far more than any stranger should be able to see. “I have a feeling you weren’t thinking clearly when you came here. What happened?”

  I almost started crying when I heard the concern in her voice. She’d met me once and she was concerned with how I was feeling, gave a shit about me. It was something I hadn’t heard in a while.

  “These assholes at the gym were really mean to me,” I told her, sighing in defeat.

  “What did they say?”

  I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity. “The one guy hit on me and when I asked him out he told me he didn’t date fat chicks and didn’t like seeing them in his gym either.”

  “His gym? Is he the owner?”

  I shook my head. “No, but the owner heard it and threw them out.”

  Riley’s eyes narrowed. “There’s more to this story. What happened with the owner? Did he tell them they were right?”

  “Brady? No. He defended me and tossed them out, threatening to call the cops if they didn’t go on their own. Then he took me to his office so I could calm down. I cried all over his damn shirt.”

  Riley walked me over to a section off to the side that had a few plush chairs positioned together for people to sit and read. She gestured to one of the chairs and took the seat next to me. “You like him, don’t you?”

  I bit my lip and nodded.

  “But you don’t trust yourself. After that asshole ex of yours and now the dick at the gym, you don’t know who’s telling you the truth and who isn’t. Especially with hot guys.”

  I nodded. “Exactly. I want to believe Brady is a good guy, but my radar is all fucked up. I have no clue who’s a nice guy and who’s a complete douchebag. Obviously since I trusted the two men who treated me like garbage and ran from the one who protected me and couldn’t stop himself from kissing me.”

  “Whoa, he kissed you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Like, I’m sorry those guys were dicks kind of kiss, or I want you so bad I can barely keep it in my pants kind of kiss.”

  “Um, the second one?”

  “Damn. Okay, so I have a tough question for you.”

  She hesitated and I started to get worried.

  “What the hell are you doing here with me when you could be making out with the sexy owner of your gym?”

  I laughed. “How do you know he’s sexy?”

  Riley cocked an eyebrow at me. “He. Owns. A. Gym. You don’t open a gym unless you look like you belong in one constantly. That’s why I work at a bookstore. I don’t have a gym body. But I’d be willing to bet Brady’s the hottest guy there.”

  I smiled at her affirmation. She was right, of course. I hadn’t seen any other guy that came close to Brady, but I might have been a little biased.

  “That’s why I came here. Somehow I knew you would be able to help me. Oh, and I read those books you recommended. Losing weight sucks. But it’ll be worth it when I can show my worthless ex what he missed out on.”

  “And show Brady what he’s getting,” Riley teased. My cheeks heated, something that rarely happened with me. I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face.

  “Hey, listen, this may be weird, but a bunch of my friends get together every Tuesday night. Why don’t you and Carrie join us? We all just hang out and chill. One of my friends owns the bakery Bite Me! and we go there.”

  “No, shit. That place is awesome. I’ll talk to Carrie, but that sounds great.”

  “Excellent. I think you’ll really get along with everyone. And thanks for the advice.”

  “Any time. Just make sure you ask if Brady has a hot brother.”

  I laughed. “Definitely.”

  When I left READ I went home and took a shower, then got pissed off at myself all over again. Riley was right. I didn’t know Brady, but at some point I needed to try to trust someone again, and Brady was making it pretty clear that he was someone who would be there for me, someone who would protect me.

  There was something in his eyes that made me want to know more about him. The fear in his eyes when he let me out of his office… I’ll never forget that. He was scared, not of me, but for me. And I wanted to know why.

  After spending the rest of the day thinking about Brady I had to go see him. I wanted him to know I wasn’t afraid of him. His eyes told me he’d never hurt me, but my eyes worried he’d break my heart. He was too attractive for me.

  But I couldn’t let him think I was scared of him.

  Telling myself I wasn’t getting dressed up for him, I tugged on a pair of shorts, my favorite red top, and red sandals. As I drove I convinced myself it was just because I was going to join his gym that I wanted him to be comfortable around me. Not because I liked him.

  Definitely not.

  I parked again and headed into Dave’s Gym feeling like an idiot. I wasn’t dressed for the gym and everyone who saw me would know I was there for something else. Of course, they’d probably think it was for a booty call or something.

  Damn. Why didn’t I think it through?

  Pushing past my fears I went inside and asked the lady at the front desk, a woman I hadn’t met yet, if I could see Brady.

  “Can I tell him who’s here?”

  I told her my name and showed my badge then waited as she picked up the phone. After a minute she told me I could go back to his office.

  I knocked on the door and waited for Brady to tell me to come in, then opened the door.

  Brady was pulling a shirt over his head, but I saw his bare chest before he covered it up. More scars shone on his skin. His chest w
as well-defined and stunning. His stomach looked like something out of a magazine. Six pack didn’t come close. He had eight, maybe even ten, defined abs that left me drooling. A light trail of hair dipped from his belly button below the waistband of his shorts, leaving me wanting more.

  “I didn’t think you’d come back,” he confessed, watching me closely with those intense eyes.

  “What happened to you?” I blurted out.

  Anger flashed in his eyes, but it was gone before he said anything. His jaw ticked as he worked to control his temper. “It’s nothing. What can I do for you?”

  I shook my head to clear the sight of his scars, but the image didn’t go far. “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I wish…” I took a deep breath, not sure if I could tell him the truth.

  “What do you wish, Sam?” he whispered as though he couldn’t breathe either.

  I closed my eyes and prayed for strength. “I wish I’d never stopped you. I wish I’d let you kiss me longer.”

  Brady exhaled a long breath. My eyes stayed closed, afraid to look at him. What did that breath mean? Was he already regretting touching me? Did I make a huge mistake going back there?

  Brady didn’t say anything to my confession. Without opening my eyes I spun to the door. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”

  “Sam, wait,” he said.

  “No, it’s okay. I understand. Thank you for being nice to me,” I said, fighting tears as I reached for the doorknob. Then Brady’s hand was on the door in front of me. And his knuckles were scratched up and bloody.

  “What happened to your hand?” I asked, again unable to stop myself.

  Brady ignored my question and moved between me and the door. He cupped my chin and tilted my face up to him. “I didn’t want to stop kissing you. And that scares the hell out of me.”

  “Why?”

  Brady took a deep breath and searched my face, his eyes scanning my features. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I’m not in control. I don’t trust myself to lose control, but with you I feel like I don’t have any.”

  I reached up and rested my hand against his jaw. His eyes drifted closed, and he leaned into my hand like a greedy cat wanting more. I didn’t want to stop touching him. “Is that why your jaw is always ticking when I’m around you?”

  Brady smiled and turned his face to kiss my palm. “Yeah. I need to be in control.”

  “Why?” I asked him again, wondering if he’d answer my question.

  “I won’t be him,” he whispered and I knew he was talking to himself more than he was to me. I wanted to ask who, but I didn’t. It was too personal, too much.

  “What happened to your hand, Brady?” I asked, bringing his hands to my lips. I kissed each of his knuckles softly, my eyes locked on his.

  “I was pissed at myself for scaring you. I went a little nuts on the punching bag,” he confessed as I kissed the last of his knuckles.

  I brought his hand back to my face and let him caress my skin. He touched me with a reverence I’d never felt before. My hands ran up his arms, both of us watching as we explored each other carefully.

  His hands went to my waist, and he pulled me tightly to him. My body responded instantly to his, fire mixed with ice, need mixed with want. I pressed against him, the feel of his hard body against my soft one made me want more.

  Brady’s lips came down over mine slowly, waiting for me to stop him. His kiss was tentative, but behind it was a desire he was barely holding back. If Brady ever lost that control he was holding so tightly to there was no telling what would happen. The thought excited me more than scared me, and I wondered what I would have to do to snap that control.

  With his lips on mine we kissed softly, barely even a kiss. My hands drifted around his neck and pulled him tighter to me. I raised up on my toes to reach him better and traced the seem of his lips with my tongue, willing him to open for me.

  When he did, his control slipped a little before he regained it. His tongue glided against mine, and he tasted fresh, just like he smelled. Our tongues explored instead of fought, both of us learning the other without wanting to dominate. It was sweet, it was beautiful.

  It was boring.

  I wriggled against him so I could feel his erection between us. He groaned into my mouth and his hands slid to my ass and lifted me. My legs wrapped around his waist on their own. One hand moved up my back slowly over all the bumps and valleys of my body to my shoulder.

  His tongue thrust deep and strong into my mouth, sending jolts of desire through me. I imagined that same enthusiasm between my legs and burned with need.

  Then he was gone.

  Brady pulled back from me and lowered me to the ground carefully. His hands steadied my hips, but he took a large step away from me. My heart plummeted as I waited for another guy to say he couldn’t be with me because I was too fat. Because I wasn’t right for him.

  That another man might not be bothered by my rolls, but he couldn’t stomach it.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll go,” I stammered, backing away from him.

  “Please don’t go, Sam,” he pleaded. His fingers tightened on my hips before I could get out of his reach. His eyes were closed, but I saw the pain that I’d noticed before etched across his face.

  I couldn’t leave. Not until I understood the pain.

  “Why?”

  Brady took a deep breath and rested his forehead against mine. He held me tightly but at a distance. I didn’t know what he was going through, but I needed an answer.

  “I’m not myself when you’re around, Sam. It scares the shit out of me. But what scares me more is watching you walk out that door and knowing you’ll never come back. I want you, Sam. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything, but I don’t know who I am if I’m not in control.”

  “Why do you have to be in control, Brady? What are you afraid of?”

  He shook his head and let go of me, walking across the room. He rested his hands on his desk and leaned over. The muscles in his back bunched and made me want to run my hands all over him. I could see the pain in him, even from behind.

  “It doesn’t matter. I just can’t lose control. I would never hurt you, Sam. You have to know that. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

  I stepped closer, needing to touch him, to look at him. I touched his back and he jumped, then settled against my hand. “Brady, look at me. Please,” I begged.

  He hesitated then turned his head slowly. His body stayed in place and he peered over his shoulder at me. I glided my hand around his body and tugged to get him to turn. With a sigh he turned and sat on the edge of his desk, bringing us almost to eye level.

  “Do I look afraid of you? Do I look like I want to run?” He shook his head. “I’m just as out of control as you are, except it doesn’t scare me. What does scare me is how much I think about you and how bad I felt when I knew you thought I didn’t want you. I didn’t come back here for this, but I’m not going to lie and tell you I’m not enjoying it. I’m not afraid of you Brady.”

  His hands skimmed my waist, fingers reaching from my hips to just barely below my breasts. Large hands, strong hands, sexy hands.

  “Maybe you should be. I’m afraid of me.”

  “Then we take this slow. Unless you don’t want to-“

  “No,” he nearly shouted. “I want to. Jesus, I want to. Are you sure?”

  I smiled and glided my hands up his chest then over his shoulders. “I’m sure. And one day I’m going to snap that control of yours and see what I get out of it.”

  “No, Sam. You can’t,” he said fearfully. “Please promise me you won’t.”

  “Brady, I don’t want you afraid to be yourself around me. If you’re holding back then I’ll wonder who’s really there.”

  “This is me. If I lose control it won’t be me. It’ll be… someone else. I can’t be him.”

  “Who, Brady?”

  He shook his head. He wasn’t going to tell me. It was too much for him.

  �
��Please, Sam, just promise me.”

  I could see how much it mattered to him. How important it was that I didn’t push him. As much as I didn’t want to, I agreed.

  Eight

  Wedding weekends were crazy, but knowing I avoided a torture session with my mother made it a little easier to swallow. I loved my job, but working with brides, dealing with the emotions of weddings, and working all weekend was less than desirable.

  The bride, Megan, asked me about attending the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner, but eventually decided she’d rather have me focus on the wedding day. I’d love to say I didn’t encourage her in that direction, but I totally did. Having to work both Friday and Saturday night got old in a hurry. Plus, most people cared more about the wedding than the reception, made sense, so rehearsal photos usually got tossed in a photo album or worse, a box.

  I enjoyed my day as much as I could with my limited mobility and soaked in a hot bath that night. I didn’t think I’d worked out that hard, but the muscles screaming convinced me otherwise. By Saturday morning, with the help of a few of painkillers, I was ready for the wedding.

  Megan was one of those brides I could see myself being friends with under different circumstances. She was relatively easy to work with, but she had the potential to be completely insane on her wedding day. I had my work cut out for me.

  Aside from Megan, her soon-to-be mother-in-law was a nightmare. Bobby’s mom, Sandra, thought she was the bride, or at least she acted that way. I was happy I wasn’t the wedding planner with a mother-of-the-groom like her.

  My first stop of the morning was Megan’s mom’s house. Debra was a hairdresser and recruited one of her coworkers to do the hair of the entire wedding party. Champagne was already flowing freely when I arrived, putting Megan on edge.

  “They’re all going to be too drunk to stand up! I don’t know what my mother was thinking,” she whined after she greeted me.

  Two of the six bridesmaids were sitting at chairs in the kitchen, mimosas in hand and chatting happily. The other four bridesmaids, including Megan’s best friend and maid of honor, Belinda, were digging into the fruit tray with one hand, the other holding mimosas.