Fancy Curves (Clearwater Curves Book 2) Page 2

  “Where is it?” I ask.

  “At my house. Just down the street.”

  “You live all the way out here?”

  “I do. Over on Lantana. Didn’t you read my personal file?”

  “No. Once I hired you, I had no reason to.”

  “Oh okay.” She says as she starts walking again.

  “Wait!” I shout. “We’ll take my car.” She smiles as she turns back around. My 2018 Porsche Cayenne usually elicits that kind of a response. We get in and she buckles her seatbelt. Her skirt has risen, and I can see her juicy thighs.

  “Fuck.” I growl under my breath.

  “What?” She asks, following my gaze to her creamy skin. She hastily pulls her skirt back down. That was not my intention.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” Fuck that. I am lying. I want to do more than stare at her. I want them wrapped around my hips as I fuck her. It causes me to shift in the seat to adjust my hard cock.

  “Don’t worry about it, Mr. Travers.”

  “Call me Clark. Please. Mr. Travers was my father.”

  “I heard about what happened to him and I am sorry for your loss.” She reaches over and places a comforting hand on my forearm, which is draped over the center console.

  “Thank you.” I say as she pulls her hand away and clasps it with the other in her lap. I immediately miss the soft warmth of her fingertips. “Tell me about yourself. And I don’t want the interview stuff. Real stuff.”

  “I told you real stuff in my interview Clark.” She laughs, and I can feel it right in my chest. I absently rub my chest, while engraving the sultry way she said “Clark” in my memory forever. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything” is too vague and a bit creepy so I stick to the basics.

  “Do you have any siblings?” I ask.

  “Two. Reba and McEntire.” It’s my turn to laugh. “I know. I know. My mama has a deep love for all things Reba McEntire. My brother hates it, so we call him Mac.”

  “Wow. She’s like a superfan?” I question.

  “Yep. Been to something like 100 concerts.” She states.

  “That’s epic. I am a Garth Brooks fan myself.”

  “I like him too, but I have a really eclectic style when it comes to music.”

  “I am not surprised.” I say chuckling.

  “What do you mean by that?” She asks. She looks pissed, but that’s the last thing I wanted to do.

  “Nothing. I have heard you jamming out in your office.”

  “Oh. Okay. Do you have any siblings?” She asks, changing the subject.

  “Just a douchebag brother, Griffin. He’s a pain in the ass, but I love him.”

  “Griffin is your brother? Griffin from Finance?”

  “Yeah. Why?” I ask. If he said anything to upset her, I am going to kick his ass.

  “Oh, nothing bad. He asked me out my first day at the office. I politely turned him down, but he’s been distant ever since then. I guess it’s a family trait.” I watch as her face morphs with the realization of what she said. In the meantime, I am going to kill my brother. All this time he has wanted her for himself? All the shit he gave me for “wanting to dick down a fat chick.” “I am sorry. That was rude and unprofessional of me.”

  “Fancy. It’s ok. I understand, and I know I am not the easiest boss to have. There have been some things that I have been working through.” I rest my hand on hers as I say this.

  “Of course. I completely understand. Your father’s death has taken a toll on you.”

  “That’s part of it, Fancy.”

  As I am driving to the restaurant there is only silence between us, until we get there. I want this woman something fierce and I will do anything to claim her.

  Chapter Three

  Fancy

  What did he mean by that? I start to think on this while we walk from the parking lot to the restaurant.

  “Reservation for Travers.” He says to the hostess.

  “Ah, Mr. Travers. Right this way, please.” She leads us to a table near the kitchen and he holds my chair out for me. Such a gentleman. Who is this guy? The hostess waits until he sits down and hands each one of us a menu.

  “Stephanie will be your server and will be with you in a moment. Please enjoy your lunch.” She says with a smile.

  Peeking over my menu, I look Clark over one last time. His hands are lightly gripping the edge of the hard cover, but I can’t help imagining as his fingers run over my body and grip my hips as he thrusts into me. I have to fan myself with my menu. Fuck. Why does he have to be so fucking handsome?

  “This is my favorite restaurant.” I say. The quiet between us is killing me. “I rarely get to come here, so this is a real treat.”

  “Is it? That’s great. I love Italian food, and this was close.” His phone rings and he takes’ the call.

  “It is close, and I love the ravioli.”

  “Shaun isn’t able to make it. It looks like it will be just us. Order whatever you want.” He says as the waitress approaches. She stares at me then Clark before speaking. I have a feeling I know what she is thinking.

  “Hi guys, I am Stephanie. Can I start you with some drinks or an appetizer?”

  “I would like a glass of the house red wine, please.” I say.

  “Sure thing.” She says and writes it down. “And for you Sir?”

  “I will have a bourbon and coke. Thanks. And some bruschetta to start. Is that good for you Fancy?” He asks looking at me.

  “Sure.” I say.

  “Coming right up.” And she is gone in a flash.

  “Ok, what do you do for fun Fancy?” His full attention is on me now and I can feel myself flush under his stare.

  “I read, watch HGTV, binge watch things on Netflix, and I bake.”

  “Really. What do you bake?” Typical guy. Straight to his stomach.

  “If it is bake-able, then I will make it.” I say honestly.

  “I must admit that I have a bit of a sweet tooth.” He winks at me.

  “Most people do, Clark. What makes yours special?” I say in a way that I hope comes off as sexy. It must, because it takes him a minute to answer me. Why am I being so unprofessional?

  “Trust me, it is special.” He is laughing heartily now.

  “Alright, what is your favorite dessert?”

  “Chocolate chip cookies that are still warm from the oven.” He says wistfully. “My mom lives in England and I haven’t had home baked goods in forever.”

  “Aww. I can make some for you when we get back to your house. Chocolate chip cookies are my second favorite. I find red velvet cake to be irresistible.”

  “I will have to remember that. Tell me more about your family.” This is starting to feel like a first date, except I am having a great time. Who knew he was such a talker?

  “My family is very eccentric. My brother Mac is a bit of a show off. He must do one up on everyone. Not in a douche-y way or anything. It is actually endearing. He is sixteen and trying to be a man. My sister, Reba is thirty and married with four kids. She lives in Brandon with her husband, who is a doctor. My parents have been married for 32 years. They met on South Beach and haven’t looked back, after getting married with only knowing each other for two weeks. They fight all the time, but a few minutes later it’s like it never happened. What about you?”

  In the meantime, the appetizers and drinks arrived.

  “Are you ready to order?” Stephanie asks.

  “Yes, I will have the chicken parmesan with a Caesar salad.” Clark says.

  “And for you, ma’am?” She turns towards me. Her leers are getting weird and I am starting to wonder if I have something in her teeth.

  “I will have the cheese raviolis with a Caesar salad.” I say, a little snippy at this bitch. Where the hell is Avery when I need her?

  “Sounds good. I will get this in right away.” And she is gone again.

  “Where were we? Oh yes. My family. I only have the one brother. My mother is
on her third husband. I think he is only a year older than I am. I have a daughter and her name is Eliza. She is ten years old and I only see her every other weekend. But, starting next weekend I will have her here with me until January. She is so funny. You know in the way only a ten-year-old can be.”

  “How old are you” I ask, interrupting him. There is nothing sexier than a man who can take care of his child. God, what is wrong with me? I am pretty sure I hated him this morning and now I am not so sure. If I am honest with myself, I am half in love with him.

  “I am thirty-three. Why? How old are you?”

  “A lady never tells her age, you know. So, I will tell you I am twenty-four.” I say laughing.

  “Not a lady, huh? I am learning all sorts of things about my trusted employee.” He smiles.

  “It’s a joke. I assure you I have all real lady bits.” I say laughing.

  “I think I need to see proof.” He says completely serious.

  “Are you married?” I blurt out. He never mentioned it, but I didn’t even know he had a daughter.

  “No. I’ve never been married. Eliza is the product of a one-night stand when I played for Detroit. Her mother is a friend of a friend. We met at a party. We weren’t in love, so there was no reason to get married. I do take care of my daughter, though.” The thought of him with another woman makes me mad. Now, I am mad about being jealous. I need to get out more. Someone paying attention to me shouldn’t make me this flustered. I learned my lesson before, but I think this is because it’s him.

  I am blushing furiously and can only nod at him. Our food arrives, and Stephanie is back. What the hell is this waitress looking at, when she looks at me like that? I wonder if I should excuse myself and check it out.

  “More wine? Another bourbon and coke, Sir?

  “Yes, please.” I say.

  “No thanks. I will switch to water.” Clark says.

  As we eat the conversation is kept light. When we are finished we continue to make small talk about work.

  “Any dessert for you and your sister?” Stephanie says, coming out of nowhere.

  His sister? How fucking rude could she be?

  “My girlfriend and I will share a piece of tiramisu.” Did he just say that I was his girlfriend? I mean, I know he only said it to put this bitch in her place. But still, it is nice to hear.

  “Sorry. I have to say that you guys don’t really fit together. I mean, have you seen you?” At this point, I am not sure if she is saying he is hot or I am a whale. Either way it’s out of line.

  “Wow.” I say out loud.

  “We fit together very well and not that it is any of your damn business. Forget the desert. We’ll take the check and I would also like to speak to your manager.” He says. Looking pissed. Stephanie pales and turns on her heel.

  “That isn’t necessary.” I say quietly.

  “It is. She shouldn’t assume things based on looks. I worked as a waiter in college at a French restaurant and would never have assumed a fifty-year-old man at my table, with a twenty year old girl was with his wife or daughter. It’s rude and costs places their customers.”

  He leaves the table. When he finally comes back to the table the check has already been paid. He reaches for my hand. Placing my napkin on the table, I grab my purse and take his offered hand. Why? I don’t know, but his large hand wrapped around mine feels good. We leave the restaurant and I don’t think I’ll ever go back.

  That was mortifying and humiliating. There is nothing like someone telling me that I am too fat to be seen with someone as good looking as Clark. What a way to make me feel good about myself.

  “Don’t listen to her. She has no idea what she is talking about.” Clark says as if he knows what I am thinking.

  “Back to your house?” I ask, wanting to forget the scene in the restaurant. However, the way it was said makes it sound like an offer for a nightcap. Or I want to be fucked. I squirm in the plush leather seat when I realize it is exactly what I want.

  “Is that what you want, Fancy?”

  “What?” I ask. I do. I do. I really want to be his. All the frustration and this silent treatment? It’s made me want him more.

  “If I take you back to my house I am going to make you mine, Fancy. Can you handle that?”

  He reaches over and grabs the seat belt, buckling it for me. I can’t help it because I am overwhelmed by his scent. Leaning into him our lips meet and I know I will never kiss another man again.

  “Let’s get home, baby. I have been waiting for this for a year. No more waiting.” He kisses me again and then we are headed back to Clearwater. He holds my hand the whole way as he is running his thumb slowly over my knuckles.

  He’s making me wet and swoony. Am I ready to give him everything?

  Yes.

  Chapter Four

  Clark

  Fuck. I have never been so pissed in my life. The waitress was way out of line and when I spoke to her manager he assured me the issue would be corrected. I have my doubts and will no longer go there. It’s that simple. When I felt Fancy’s, soft plump lips undermine I instantly calmed down. It’s amazing how she can do that for me. During the drive back to my house, I hold her hand the entire time. The warmth of her hand is comforting.

  She is quiet, and I want to tell her the things I have kept to myself, but now is not the time. When we finally get to my house there is nothing more I want than to take her to my bed and never let her leave, but I don’t.

  “I have a few more hours of work. I’d like to take you out to dinner tonight.”

  “Like a proper date?” She asks, looking down at her already bare feet.

  “Yes. There is a crab shack down the beach that I love.”

  “Sean’s?” I nod, and she continues. “My friend Avery works there. I don’t know if she is working tonight.”

  “We can go somewhere else if you want.” I say.

  “Why don’t I make you dinner? You can finish up work and I’ll head to the grocery store. You have nothing in your fridge but milk.” She says, smiling.

  “That’s sounds good. Take my credit card though.” Even though I am not taking her out, I still want to pay. As I am pulling the card out of my wallet she is shaking her head. My mouth is already watering at the thought of a home cooked meal. I can’t remember the last time I had one.

  “My treat. But I will drive your Porsche.” She says with a smirk and holding her hand out. She looks so cute standing there.

  “Sure.” I say handing her the keys.

  “I’ll be back. Finish up your work.” She says and hesitates for a minute.

  “You need something else, Fancy?”

  “No.” She places a kiss on my cheek and turns to walk away. Grabbing her arm, I pull her back to me. Tangling my fingers in her hair, I angle her face towards me, and kiss her like it is the last time.

  “Be safe.” I say, finally letting her go.

  “I will.” She says, looking dazed as she walks out the door. I hate that she is leaving but watching that ass as she walks away from me is amazing.

  I hate that I have hesitated with her and I am going to kill my brother.

  Speaking of, I pull out my cell phone and dial his number.

  “Hello brother. Why are you calling on a weekday? Is Mom ok?” Griff rushes out.

  “Ma is fine, and I spoke to her last night. I am calling about Fancy.”

  “Fancy? Is she ok? I just spoke to her the other day.” That makes me growl.

  “Have you sacked up and asked her out yet?” He says laughing.

  “What?” I demand.

  “You told me a year ago that you wanted her. I had asked her out, but she turned me down.”

  “You ragged on me you dick. You said, and I quote “I can’t believe you are going to stick your dick in a fat chick. What if you don't get it back?” You made your feelings very clear on the subject. I wouldn’t put my girl in a situation like that.” When he starts laughing, I lose it. “Are you kidding me with thi
s shit? It isn’t fucking funny, Griff. I have missed out on a lot with her. Why would you say that?”

  “Listen Clark. I wasn’t in a good place. Dad had just died, and I am pretty sure I was drunk, among other things when I said that. Besides, she turned me down and I wasn’t team Fancy right then. I can’t believe you are the idiot who listened to me. What happened to take no prisoners Clark? You haven’t been yourself since Dad died. If he was still alive and you met Fancy, you would have claimed her that same day. Your reflexes are getting slow old man.”

  As soon as he says it, I know he’s right. I have been using his reaction as a crutch. Fuck this shit. I am done with all that.

  “Thanks, brother. I know it was hard, but I am glad you are on the other side now.” We were very close to our father. Our parents divorced ten years ago, and dad never remarried, but my mom did twice. She wasn’t there for us when he died, but then again why would she be? We were adults.

  “Yeah. I got to run. My girl is getting out of class.”

  “Girl? Class?” I question. What has he done?

  “Yeah. She is a senior in high school. Don’t worry. You don’t need to call the family lawyer. She is already eighteen, but I am waiting until she graduates. Hardest wait of my life.” He laughs, and I imagine he is wiggling his eyebrows.

  I shake my head. “Jesus, you are disgusting.” I say. I don’t mean it, but still. “This girl got a name?”

  “Tessa. You’ll meet her soon. Why don’t you worry about your own girl?”

  “Asshole.” I say.

  “Love you too. Talk soon.” He says as he hangs up.

  I make my way to my office and sit at my desk. Picking up the phone, I call a few clients and schedule meetings with a couple of teams.

  The thing about being a sports agent who knows the business is I know what these guys are dealing with. From the start of training to game day, I’ve been there. The last thing I want to worry about is my agent, accountant, or lawyer taking advantage of me. My father was a lawyer who specialized in sports law. Then he opened Travers, INC, which is a one-stop shop for athletes. I always knew I would end up here, but I detoured a bit when I played.