Chapter 1
JANE
“You have such a pretty face, my dear.” Anyone who has heard this half-compliment as many times as I have, knows that the second half unsaid is “But you would look so much better if you lost weight.” Anyone who has heard it—you are my people. We’re the ones who shop in the plus-size section. Our sizes start with a two and parts of us still jiggle after we stop moving. We are the women who want the lights off during sex and rarely, if ever, want to climb on top. We are not the curvy girls in my books I love so much, who claim to be plus size or bigger, but halfway through the book are revealed to be a size ten or twelve and carrying an extra fifteen pounds. Pssh…I carry an extra hundred pounds on a good day. Does that keep me from reading romance books with women who I have nothing physically in common with? Fuck no. They are my escape and they help me dream. I know, in reality, my love life isn’t long enough to even fill a novella.
“Miss Jane?” Shaking off my latest tangent of a thought, I see Mrs. Milton looking up at me from her hospital bed.
“Sorry, Mrs. Milton. I got lost in thought for a minute. Let’s get you ready for lunch and get your television show on.” I love my job. My clients all seem to become more like family to me, and I love that. I have worked with Mrs. Milton now for about six months and she has grown to be one of my favorites, even if she has no brain-to-mouth filter. Lately, she has been into watching all the crime drama shows she can find.
“Now, darling, you know that we need to watch some of those fine-looking men catch some killers. If I was forty years younger and didn’t have Mr. Milton, I would be all over their boss in the suit. It’s the uptight and quiet ones who surprise you, dear. I wish my James liked the ladies ’cause you would be the best daughter-in-law.”
Trying not to burst out laughing and remembering I’m at work, I calmly reply, “He is wonderful, Mrs. Milton, but you’re right. I’m not what he’s interested in.” Her James is a great guy who I am trying to set up with one of my besties, Nicky. He needs a guy like James. Unfortunately, his man picker has been as bad as mine—hence our forever-single status.
I finish getting Mrs. Milton set up for lunch and her midday meds before it’s time for me to head to my last appointment of the day. Then it’s home to my Friday night routine of takeout, wine, chocolate, and the newest release by one of my favorite authors. My life is as simple as my hips are wide, but it’s mine and it makes me happy.
???
Pulling up in front of my place, I turn off my SUV. It almost makes a grunt before it turns off, reminding me it’s most likely on its last legs. I know I can’t ignore it forever, but for tonight, I’m not going to deal with it. I’ve got better things to occupy my time with. As soon as I put the key into the door lock, I hear Tyger on the other side of the door. Tyger is my man. He’s the most chill bulldog you will ever meet. He loves me and is the best snuggler ever, though a guard dog he is not.
After I get in, I pour a glass of wine and change from my scrubs to pajama pants and a hoodie. I grab one of the many throw blankets I have and get comfy on the couch. Yes, I may have a problem with buying all the cute throw blankets I find, but living in the PNW—Pacific Northwest—means they all get used. That makes them all justified purchases in my mind. Tyger’s favorite spot is on my lap, so he can snag any food I drop or decide to give him. Grabbing my phone for the first time since I put it on silent to go into Mrs. Milton’s house, I see I have text messages from four different people. Three of them are more welcome than the last. The first text was from Nicky telling me he would be over tomorrow night for our weekly dinner and dish. I send him a text back to confirm our regular plans. The next is a text from my sister from another mister, Vicky. She travels a ton for work, so I never know when she will breeze through town. She’s in the Deep South and going to be back in a week. She needs to have a night of dishing and chocolate. That woman knows what I like.
Next is a text from my brother, Logan, complaining about his school load this semester. He is in his last year in college and I could not be prouder of him. We are ten years apart but have been close since he was little. Even when our dear mother would rather forget my existence, Logan had always made me feel that our relationship was important to him. I remind him that this semester is more than half over and that he is always welcome here for a weekend away from school.
The last text is one I would completely ignore if I could, but knowing Jesse, if I do not respond, he will end up showing up here. I do not have enough wine in the house for that. Jesse is my ex-husband. Actually, that is more credit than he deserves. He is my ex-husband, but barely. We were married for all of six months when we were both nineteen. We have been divorced for over a decade and yet he is like a rash that will just never completely go away.
I know now we were never in love. I was in love with the idea of getting out of my mom’s house and the idea of having a loving home. Jesse thought that he was getting a cook and housekeeper who would be happy at home while he went out and slept with any woman he wanted. I may not have the greatest self-esteem, but even I know that was not the life I wanted. I started going to school and worked for a couple of months. Then I found a place of my own and moved out. He didn’t contest the divorce but still, occasionally, when he is either between girlfriends or wives—he has been married and divorced two more times—I hear from him. I think that he believes that one of these times, I will decide to go back.
Yeah, that is never going to happen. I am fine being on my own and I won’t be with someone who can’t keep his dick out of other women.
I need a date for the company charity dinner next week on Saturday. Can you manage to put the book and food down for a night so I can keep my two seats at the lead table?
On that note, I have to remember that he can be a complete asshole. His family still loves me and I love them, so I bite back all the teeny-weenie and stick-up-his-asshole comments and give him my standard reply that I know he won’t argue about and question further. “Can’t. I’m working Saturday night.”
Now the rest of tonight is for diving into the latest release by one of my favorite authors. I have been dying to find out what happens next with her series. This one is supposed to be a bear shifter. Man, if they were real, I could have my own who could actually handle all that is me and take me up against a wall.Swoon. This is why I like to escape into my books. Reality for this fat chick is that my options are slim in the real world.
In fantasy, I could be the middle of a yummy bear shifter sandwich. This is my favorite way to spend an evening—Tyger curled up on my lap on the couch with my fantasy world to escape to. This is enough. It really is.
Chapter 2
Jon
There is truly nothing like sitting back on the couch with a beer in my hand and putting my feet up at the end of a long day.A great woman next to you would make things better.Getting my mind to shut off and let me enjoy this moment isn’t always easy. I love my work, family, and friends, but there are nights where there is nothing better than silence in my own space. Maybe it was because I grew up in one loud house after another before I got to Ma and Pa’s house, but I have really begun to savor the moments of peace I get here and there. Don’t get me wrong, I also love spending an evening with my brothers or my whole family, but I can’t help feeling peace when there is no one around asking me for something or needing something from me.
One of the two exceptions to my needing alone time just walked in the door—one of my brothers, Juan. We have been best friends since we were kids playing in the backyard in our new home. He gets my need for quiet. There is a reason he is my VP. We can communicate without talking and we rarely disagree. We even hope to one day share a life together with a woman someday. We just have to wait for our missing piece to get home.
We have been in relationships individually and I think part of why they failed was because all of us combined make up the whole and without them, we are not complete. My ex never understood that, plus, she turned out to be batshit crazy on top of it. Juan got close to marriage once, but she decided family life wasn’t for her and is off traveling the world. He says they are still friends, and that they were just too young to settle down. I realize that all happened almost fifteen years ago. We are both about to turn thirty-five.
I look over when I feel the couch move as Juan plops down on the other side of the couch with a look on his face. I ask him, knowing where he just was, “How are Ma and Pa?”
He looks over his beer at me as he takes a sip. “Ma is tired, man. Her running around, taking care of Pa and trying to keep her health up, is just wearing her down. You know she does this without complaint, but she actually mentioned to Ry that she was tired today.”
I couldn’t keep the surprised look off my face. “It must be really hurting her then for her to say something. What are we gonna do?”
Juan lets out a big sigh. I swear both he and our brother, Ry, can give the biggest sighs you've ever heard of—like the world is on their chest. “Ry contacted a place that sends out nurse helpers for a few hours a day. The cost isn't that horrible and they would help Mom out for a few hours each weekday. We agreed to help on the weekends. Ma didn’t want to agree at first, but when I mentioned it would give her time to go out to lunch occasionally with the other old ladies and get her hair done, she at least agreed to meet the gal. Ry talked to the agency and they are sending a woman. He told them about Pa’s size and they assured me that this chick can handle him without a problem. Once Pa is more stable and back on his feet, we can stop the help and Ma won’t be overwhelmed. That stroke on top of his healing from hip surgery really knocked him down. I'm just glad he can still talk, and once healed, should be able to walk. We may need to trade in his bike for one of those trike things that Mick’s folks got.”
“Yeah, Pa and Ma love it. It had gotten to the point that Ma was almost refusing to go with Pa on the bike because of his knee issues.”
“Anyway, the chick is coming by tomorrow afternoon to meet Pa and Ma. If they like her, she starts Monday. I think I might need to drop in tomorrow to make sure this nurse gal can handle Pa. I don’t want them both falling and we end up with some fucking lawsuit.”
