Curvy Love: Curvy & Decadent, #5

By Dee James

I thought I could hide my true feelings and remain a friend to Sara... until the night her father talked about arranging her marriage with another man. One kiss was all it took to seal her fate. She was mine. Now and forever!

 

Sara
I collided into the most perfect man I've ever met after being humiliated for my plus-sized body at a party. I didn't expect the tall, handsome Gautam to step in and defend me, nor did I expect we'd strike a friendship. One year later, I was no longer content with our platonic friendship. I wanted it all with Gautam! Fearing he was way out of my league, I'd hidden my attraction from him. Until the night he kissed my breath away. Had I been wrong about our relationship all along?

Gautam
I met my precious girl with her golden heart, by chance. With her pure soul, endless curves, and her innocent heart, she was not meant for a man like me. Someone who'd sold his soul to stay alive. I'd long ago given up on marriage, kids, and the picket fence dream, but Sara tempted me to believe in... more. Will I have the courage to claim her as mine?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dee James
• Release date: Oct 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223381372

Dee James

Dee James is a contemporary romance author whose books have consistently featured in the Bestseller Lists on Amazon India. Dee writes quirky, innocent, and curvy heroines who find their happily ever after with sinful-looking, growly billionaires.  Sweet and steamy, her romance novellas are peppered with passionate, swoon-worthy moments along with a guaranteed fairy tale ending. If you're looking for a low-angst, feel-good romantic read with a guaranteed HEA, you're in the right place! Newsletter: https://authordeejames.substack.com/subscribe Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authordeejames/ Facebook Readers' Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/authordeejames

Book preview

#1

Sara

One Year Ago

Iam a plus-sized, curvy twenty-four-year-old woman, and no amount of sugar coating or body positivity was going to hide the fact that I was... not welcome everywhere. Especially not in a scenario like the present, a party for the launch of an affordable fashion line that was being introduced by my father’s company.

As always, I tried to blend in, taking it all in. In a five-star hotel like Le Meridien and in a city like Hyderabad, Dad had gone all out. Huge glass chandeliers that hung from the ceiling added to the glorious ambiance. Champagne glasses were refilled endlessly, and most fashion and movie royalties were present to promote this launch.

I sighed. Me, the chubby girl, was stuck in a fashion party where models, influencers, and some actors were chatting, mingling, and having a good time. A popular band was playing, and the dance floor was filling. Usually, I avoided attending these kinds of social events, but this time, I knew I had to support my dad. Against my better judgment, I’d agreed to come, knowing I’d be tortured the whole time.

My dad’s assistant, a smart woman who’d been all too excited about my coming to the party, insisted I needed a stylist who would take care of me from head to toe. The result was this disaster of a white sequin dress that was tight, itchy, uncomfortable, and blingy. And the accompanying heels were sheer torture.

The stylist had also curled my usually straight hair into what she called ‘beach waves’. Not to mention the artificial lashes she added to my huge light-brown eyes. Those torture things made blinking a chore. I was waiting to get home and peel them off my eyes. A server handed me a glass of champagne as I watched my father go up on stage to announce the line.

At nearly fifty, he was fit and handsome. A fact that didn’t go unnoticed by some socialites. I frowned, noticing their interested stares and prayed my dad had the sense to not fall for these thirty-something socialites who seemed to have dollar signs in their eyes. If one of them cared for my father genuinely, I’d be happy to welcome her into the family. Unfortunately, I knew that wasn’t the case.

Sipping my drink, I half-heartedly listened to my dad talk about the affordable line of casuals and how it was against fast fashion. He was talking about how he’d adopted sustainability. A smile laced my lips for the first time after I came in, proud of my father’s business ethics and policies that showed time and again that he genuinely cared. I wish I shared his passion for his business.

My interests were all for running my romance-only bookstore plus cafe, which was now doing pretty well. My younger sister had joined me as a partner, and together, we ran Curvy & Decadent, a bookstore cafe. We opened the store last year after a lot of planning, hard work, and excitement. A year later, finally, we were beginning to see some income trickle in.

Thinking of my sister, Amelia, I wished she was here with me tonight. She was a badass and knew how to light up a room. With her exotic looks and vibrant personality, she would have been the life of this party, the perfect accessory for my father. Somehow, she rocked her curves the way I never could.

Unfortunately for me, my younger sister moved away with my mother when my parents divorced. That was almost a decade ago. I’d spent time with my mom intermittently over the years, although I primarily stayed with my dad in our family home. When the divorce came through, I’d been nearly fourteen. By then, my mother had turned into a bitter woman, wanting to do nothing with my father.

My parents’ love had been volatile, turning to hate over the years. Instinctively, even at that age, Amelia and I had sort of decided that each of us would stay with one parent, ensuring they pulled through. In hindsight, I now realize as an adult, it was too much to take on for two young girls. But I’d been scared for my dad. He’d been heartbroken and lost, a changed man. To this day, he regrets his divorce. It pained me when I realized he was misunderstood by many, including his late ex-wife and his other daughter.

Placing my almost empty champagne glass on a table, I wished my mom were alive. She’d been so... vivacious. Until the divorce, at least. I’d lost a piece of my heart when Mom died. Every day since then has been a challenge to live through. Only Amelia’s return healed my heart. Partially.

My dad, though, had lost his soulmate. It had affected him deeply despite his measures to hide his true feelings from me. I knew him enough to know he suffered. Every single day. Blinking away the moisture that gathered in my eyes, I tried not to dwell on the past.

Coming back to the present, I stilled when I heard the conversation happening in front of me. With growing horror, I realized the two women, who looked like they were models, were talking about me. Unaware of my presence directly behind them, they gossiped with no thought.

I mean, can you imagine wearing something so hideous? The first woman, who was wearing a short red dress, snickered.

I know, right? I’d die rather than be caught wearing something that doesn’t flatter my figure. The second woman, who was taller and leaner, rolled her eyes.

I felt the prickle of tears beneath my lids at the cruelty and judgment in the women’s voices.

Figure? Honey, I’d rather die than stay alive at a size... 16. Or is it more? I could see the exaggerated shudder of the first woman from the corner of my eyes.

If she weren’t the boss’s daughter, she’d never have been invited to this party.

Uh, tell me about it. Looking at the father, or should I call him... Daddy... The first woman winked before continuing. I almost want to ask if she was adopted. They both laughed before reaching out for another drink.

This! This was the reason I didn’t enjoy social gatherings. Human beings were mean. Books were kinder. They didn’t spout mean things or judge people. It wasn’t my fault I didn’t belong in this world. I was an eyeliner and lip gloss kind of girl who preferred reading to socializing. I’d rather spend time in my store, walking, or doing yoga than attending a party or going to a pub. Humiliated and desolated, I turned around to bump into a muscular chest.

I felt a pair of brawny arms steady me on my feet. A unique woodsy scent hit my nostrils, making me close my eyes for a brief moment. With a start, I peeled my eyes open to see a wall of chest enclosed within a soft cream-colored shirt and a black coat. I craned my neck as my eyes took in the olive skin and a strong column of throat. My gaze moved up further to capture the full lips that were surrounded by stubble, a straight, almost aristocratic nose, and finally, dark eyes that now held concern and annoyance.

My breath caught in my throat. Standing before me was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. Sensing my silent perusal, his hands tightened on my shoulders, causing a zing of pleasure to travel through my entire body. Oh, wow! What was that? I’d never had a reaction to a man like this. And this man hadn’t even spoken yet. Blushing, I realized I was still staring when his lips curved. Barely.

I...I’m sorry, I whispered, mesmerized by the handsome stranger who then looked behind me with furrowed brows and pursed lips. Before I could apologize once again, he gently moved me away, directly looking at the two women who were speaking earlier.

Were you saying something, ladies?

His smooth voice held a hint of menace. Was he angry? Confused, I looked at him to see what was happening. Ignoring my stare, he took my hand in his much bigger one, all the while looking at the two women who had the grace to look guilty.

Is it the lack of carbs that causes some women to turn bitchy, or is it something else?

For a moment, I froze at his words before amusement hit me. This stranger was defending me. Oh, my! My poor heart, how will she survive this devastating combination of looks and heart? Looking the other way, I noticed the first woman turn red while the other struggled to form words. Before either of them could reply, I felt the man’s hand on my back gently nudging me toward the exit.

Shall we go? He murmured near my ear, making my heart gallop within my chest.

I nodded silently, not sure what I was agreeing to at that moment. Before I could process the whole interaction, I felt the man lead me to the lawns outside the venue, away from the dizzy lights, noise, and crowd.

Walking away from the party hall, the stranger turned left and led me forward until a gazebo came into view. Stopping inside the