Romance with curves, p.12

  Romance with Curves, p.12

Romance with Curves
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  “Hardin!” She shrieked as he pulled her into his arms, holding her against his body. She clutched the makeup bag, holding it between them like a shield. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to stop you from leaving me again.”

  Stilling, she looked up at him, stunned by the comment. Her heart stuttered then began a thunderous beat. “You…you asked me to leave last time.”

  “This time, I’m asking you to stay.”

  “Why?” She shook her head, still not willing to hope. “If it’s about the other night, you don’t owe me anything. It was just sex. We let our hormones get the best of us. It’s…”

  “Love.”

  She stared up at him. “What?”

  “It’s love, Autumn. I love you. I’ve been crazy about you for so long that I can’t remember a time when I didn’t love you.” He pulled the makeup case from her unresisting hands and threw it on the dresser, then closed his arms around her. “Why are you afraid to admit how you feel?”

  “Because I didn’t think you felt the same way.”

  “Well, I do. It’s taken me long enough to tell so, but if I have anything to say about it, I’ll keep telling you every day for the rest of our lives.” He placed a hand under her chin, tilting her face up to his. “Are you going to tell me?”

  “What?” Autumn asked, lost in the look he was giving her.

  “Do you love me, honey?” He looked positively tortured as he waited for her answer.

  “More than my life,” she whispered, wanting to take away his suffering.

  “Then don’t walk away from me, honey.” His eyes beseeched her. His arms held her tightly.

  Autumn looked at him and in his eyes she saw the offer of his love, his heart, his soul. It was the most tremendous gift she’d ever been offered. It was the perfect ending to every dream she’d ever had and the answer to all of her whispered prayers.

  Standing on tiptoes, she kissed him then, with all the hope she’d ever harbored in her heart and all the fears she’d felt there. And somewhere in that kiss, she felt her fears fade and her hopes grow.

  “Come across the hall, I’ve got something to show you.” Grinning like a fool, Hardin took her hand.

  “Hardin,” Autumn protested with a soft giggle as she followed, “your parents and several of your neighbors are downstairs. What if...”

  “Get your mind out of the gutter, woman,” he grinned, throwing open his bedroom door. Autumn’s mouth opened in stunned amazement. The room was filled yellow daffodils.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day, honey.”

  Tears gathered in her eyes as Hardin closed his arms around her, pulling her back into his strong body so that her back rested against his chest. She could feel the steady thud of his heart and, when he rested his chin on top of her head, she sighed, knowing she could stay in that position forever.

  “I know you’re wondering why I didn’t get you roses, but Mona said the daffodils…”

  “Represent a new beginning,” she whispered, turning in his arms to look up at him.

  “That’s what I want for us, honey. I don’t want to forget the past, but I want to build a new future, with you.”

  “Oh, Hardin, I want that too.” She shook her head. “Did you…? No, you couldn’t have known.”

  “Known what?” Hardin questioned, dipping his head to take a quick nibble at her lips.

  “That’s the name I picked.”

  He drew back. “What name?”

  “For the foal.” She grinned. “I named her Daffodil.”

  “It’s perfect,” he grinned. “Now, come back downstairs and dance with me before I forget my good intentions and take you back to bed.”

  “Hardin!” Autumn buried her face in his broad chest, fighting the urge to tell him to do just that.

  She allowed him to lead her down the hall, then pulled back as an unhappy thought interrupted her euphoria. “What about Trisha?”

  Hardin stopped, keeping her hand tightly in his when she would have pulled away. “She’s gone and she won’t be coming back. I made that very plain on the trip to the airport.”

  So, that’s why he’d taken her along.

  Good.

  “I thought you and she…”

  “Never.” He heaved a sigh. “I know how I made it look back then, honey. I had to let you believe it. You kept throwing up my age and I wanted you so badly. I thought if you knew that, you’d laugh, so I used Trisha as a way to save my pride.” He shook his head. “There was never anything between us except business. I may have been blind where you were concerned, but I had her number from the beginning. She’s like those plants, the fire lily we saw at Mona’s shop, beautiful on the outside but toxic to the touch. She only wanted my money and my name to help make her famous.”

  Autumn touched his cheek, then lightly ran a finger across his lips, smiling at his low growl. “Well, I want your heart, your love and your children.”

  “Damn it, woman, the party will have to go on without us.” Hauling her over his shoulder, he strode back to his bedroom, closing the door with a booted heel.

  EPILOGUE

  They were married at the end of May, after school was finished. Autumn had wanted to move back to her apartment for the rest of the school year but Hardin had insisted on driving her every morning. He was waiting for her each day after class. She’d spent every night in his arms.

  The wedding was a simple affair, held in the same church where Katy and James had been married.

  Mona had provided the flowers, of course. Katy was her matron of honor. Hardin and Katy’s dad had insisted on walking his new daughter down the aisle. Hardin’s mother had cried as she embraced Autumn. She’d been welcomed with love by all and was no longer alone. She was part of a family again.

  “What are you thinking?”

  Autumn snuggled closer to her husband, still filled with the wonder of loving and being loved by him. All the years of wanting, of hurting, of loneliness had been erased. “That I’ve never been so happy.” She kissed his shoulder. “And that I’d like to make love with my husband again.”

  “Insatiable.” Hardin bent to kiss his wife, still awed that he could touch her, hold her, kiss her. It was a dream he’d kept to himself for so long.

  Music drifted up from the yard, where the remaining wedding guests still celebrated. Autumn sighed against her husband’s lips. “Are you complaining, Mister?”

  Hardin pulled the cover away, his eyes lingering on her abundant curves. “No ma’am. I’m more than happy to oblige.”

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  LOVE TRANSCENDENCE

  OLLIE DUPREE

  CHAPTER 1

  “Put that down, Callista,” my mother whispered. “You might break it.”

  I huffed, carefully setting the teacup back on the table. Scanning the yard sale, I wandered off while my mother and aunt spoke to the owner. I strolled around the tables, running my hand along some of the items. The sun glinted off something shiny about a foot away, drawing my attention. It was a large, antique jewelry box made of cherry wood with brass hinges and knobs. There was a floral design carved on the sides with onyx and mother of pearl inlaid for the petals.

  Shuffling to it, my pulse quickened. My breaths laboring, I inched the lid up, excitement surging through my veins. As if I knew exactly where to look, I pulled the bottom drawer out, setting it aside, and slipped my fingers behind. My nail caught a tiny dent in the wood, and my lungs shallowed, my eyelids rounding. Swallowing a knot in my throat, I bent over and squinted, trying to see what I was touching. This close, my nostrils filled with the musty dust, making me wince. Tipping my head, I scratched at the groove. The panel moved, and my heart skipped a beat.

  A second time, I checked both shoulders, assuring I was being ignored. I held the side of the large box with my free hand, trying to maneuver the piece of wood in the narrow gap. After a few attempts, it made a popping noise and slid away, allowing a gold bracelet to spill out.

  I froze, my insides stilling, anticipation trembling my muscles. Inhaling a jagged breath, I tucked my finger around it and pulled it forward. The sun caught the large ruby in the center of the brass cuff, momentarily blinding me. Blinking, I gawked at the jewelry, turning it every which way in my palm. Without even looking, I knew there would be a scuff on the inside near the edge. Filling my lungs with air, I slowly turned it over.

  My stomach plummeted, fear trickling into my core when I saw the mar. How did I know that?

  Rubbing my thumb on the blemish, dark pictures flickered in my brain, but wouldn’t form long enough for me to see or understand. I smelled candles burning, rain mixing with earth. Despite it being the middle of July in the suburbs of Gettysburg, a chill encircled me, making my breaths form clouds.

  My palm warmed with the weight of the bangle. Still shaking, I slid it onto my wrist, eyeing it. A giggle rumbled through my chest, tears welling. Emotions I’d never felt before consumed me with the highest of joys.

  I went over to a freestanding mirror and gazed at myself, holding my arm out to show off the cuff. Tilting my head, I tucked my long, black hair behind my ear, smoothing the curls. My turquoise eyes sparkled, my full lips spread wide in a grin. Though it was a little big, the antiqued gold complemented my dark skin. It felt good on my arm, as if it had been made just for me, and it belonged there.

  “Callista…”

  My mother’s trembling, soft voice broke through my thoughts. Lifting my gaze, I peered at her reflection in the mirror. She was standing behind me, her face gray, her eyes bulging.

  Furrowing my brows, I turned to face her. “What’s wrong?”

  She licked her lips, her whole body shaking as she pointed. “W-Where…d-did you find…that?”

  Glimpsing at the bracelet, I held it up, touching my other hand to it. Rolling a shoulder, I motioned to the jewelry box on the table. “I found it. Can I buy it?”

  Aunt Bennu strolled over, her expression one of bored annoyance. Opening her mouth to protest, she stumbled over her feet, matching my mother’s reaction. They both stood before me, faces masked with fear, gawking with opened mouths.

  “Oh, shit, Oni. Not again.”

  Narrowing my eyelids, I pulled the arm with the bracelet to my chest, hugging it. “What?” If they thought they were taking this from me, they were wrong. I didn’t throw tantrums often, but this is one instance I wasn’t taking no for an answer. This was my bracelet, and that was that!

  Tears streaked down Bennu’s face, making me realize this wasn’t about them telling me I couldn’t buy this.

  My mom held her palm out, wiggling her fingers. “Callista, let me hold it.”

  “Mom—”

  “Callista Kherrazi, now!”

  I reluctantly tugged it off and gave it to her. She closed her eyelids, her chest puffing out with a deep inhale. Swallowing, she turned it over and peeked through her lashes.

  “Oh, shit,” Bennu muttered again.

  My mom brushed her fingertips over the scratch, a whimper escaping her throat. Taking a broken breath, she handed it back with a forced smile. “It found you again.”

  “What?”

  Both hands covered her mouth and nose as she took deep breaths. Anxiously fidgeting with her hijab, she lifted her focus to the sky, squinting against the sun. Clearing her throat, she gently stroked the back of her knuckles along the side of my face, shaking her head.

  “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  Dread eased into my blood, my eyelids thin slits of suspicion.

  “No matter what, you will always be beautiful, Callista.”

  “Mom—”

  She straightened her spine, letting a quick sob fall from her lips. Shaking her hands at her sides, her chin quivered as she closed her eyelids yet again. “Okay, my dear. Let’s get to the car and go home. We need to talk.”

  CHAPTER 2

  My father stood in the window, his legs wide, his arms crossed, staring into the front yard. His expression was stoic since he calmed down from his violent outburst when he saw the bracelet.

  No! he’d screamed in a tone I’d never heard before. His dark skin turned purple, his nostrils flaring as foam flew from his mouth. He’d swiped his arms through the air, shaking his head adamantly, spouting off in Arabic. No, not again. Not this time. I won’t have it. Take the goddamn bracelet back where you found it.

  We can’t do that, Issam! my mother had argued.

  I mean it. I will not allow it this time.

  She’d grabbed him by the shoulders, tipping her head to gaze up at him. Crying, she’d whimpered, There’s no stopping it now.

  He’d looked over at me sitting on the couch, dumbfounded, and broke down, embracing my mother, sniveling. It had sent chills to my core, for I’d never seen my father as anything other than formidable. I had in an instant, slipped into chaotic panic.

  Two hours later, I was still frozen in the same position; cross legged in the center cushion, while Bennu sat on the floor by the fireplace, curled into a ball, chewing her nails, her unblinking eyes staring at me.

  I was numb, my fingers aching from gripping the bracelet so long. I didn’t know what to think, what to feel. At first, I laughed, thinking my entire family had lost their minds. Then I assumed I was in some kind of dream state that I couldn’t wake from.

  Lifting my lashes, Bennu was still ogling me, all her long, beautiful nails chewed to stumps. My father still hadn’t moved, appearing more like a statue every second that ticked away. Dragging my attention to the other side of the room, my mother jumped to her feet to race for the front door. Where was she going?

  Opening it, I know I should have been at least a little surprise to see someone there, but after everything they’d told me the last couple hours, it somehow seemed normal that she would know we had a visitor without them even knocking.

  A white woman, in her late twenties, stood on the stoop. Her light brown eyes instantly landed on mine, a soft smile spreading across her long, oval face. Her thick, light brown hair was braided down her back to her waist, a few stray strands frizzed around her temples.

  She was wearing a white, linen shirt that draped over a shoulder and a bohemian styled skirt that was made of patches of different cloths. Bangles of various sizes wrapped around one of the arms clutching a huge, leather book to her chest.

  “Callista,” she whispered, stepping inside without so much as a look of acknowledgement to my mother.

  I bounced back and forth between her approaching me and my mother shutting the door, wiping at her sniffling nose with a tissue. She had barely made eye contact with me all afternoon.

  The closer the woman got, the more I leaned into the cushions, pulling my chin to my chest to peer at her sideways. She was beaming and gazing at me as if she knew me.

  “Callista, my dear.” My mother’s voice quivered, her fingers wringing the tissue in front of her. Coughing, she motioned, her sight transfixed on the floor. “This is Rita Clarke.”

  “Oh, she knows who I am,” she gushed, dropping to her knees on the other side of the coffee table that separated us.

  “No, I don’t.”

  She winked and set the book down, pushing the magazines to the floor. “Yes, you do, you just don’t remember yet.” Setting an elbow on top of it, she wiggled her fingers. “Gimme your hand.”

  I glimpsed first at my mother, then Bennu who had ducked behind her knees, no longer looking at me. My father’s head was also bowed, but the rest of his stance had not moved. Returning to my mother, she was nodding, her eyes glistening with fresh tears.

  “Go on, dear.”

  I was filled with unease. Making the tiniest of moves to do so, I stopped, retreated, and gazed at the fair skinned woman. Her smile broadening, she was shaking with energy. Taking a sharp inhale, I slid my fingers across her palm.

  A loud click rang in my ears as pictures flashed before my eyes, and I gasped. Sadness, love, peace, and comfort attacked from different angles, creating a whirlwind of confusion in my soul. A sensation of being shocked by one of those hand buzzers shot through me and I snatched away, shaking my wrist.

  Rita’s eyes twinkled as she settled on the floor. “She knows me. She’s already starting to wake up.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your abilities, of course. The veil is thinning, and your spirit is waking. You’ve been reading people for a couple months now, haven’t you?”

  I scoffed, fanning my hands to my side. “Reading people? What are you talking about?”

  Wriggling her fingers by her temple, she squinted. “You know, hearing thoughts or seeing other people’s memories.”

  Growing irritated with everyone’s absurdities, I sneered. “So, you’re saying I’m psychic?”

  Snickering, she rubbed her palm over the leather book. “You are many things, Callista. Your abilities range from clairvoyance to clairempathy, telepathy to telekinesis…” She sighed, shaking her head. “There is no limit to you, darling. You are everything.”

  I scoffed, crossing my arms. Was this some kind of joke they were all in on? Who was this lady? And what was the point of this mockery?

  “So, I can read minds, now, too? Can I fly, as well?”

  Her humor faltered. Rising to her knees, she stretched across the table, touching my cheek, but I snatched my head away. Why did everyone keep doing that?

 
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