Curve Patrol (BBW Erotic Romance) Read online

I gave an angry shake of my head, forcing myself not to listen or care what Noah was saying in the next room. He hadn't finished his sentence last night but it was all too clear this morning what he'd left unsaid.

  Fuck and dump.

  That's what he'd done. Fucked me. Thoroughly. Even now, angry as I was, the memory made me wet and aching for him. I swiped a sponge along the kitchen counter, scrubbing at a dot that was nothing more than a fleck of metal in the polished granite top.

  "Dude, you look like you're going to clock me--" Darling's statement broke my concentration.

  Both men were almost down to a whisper, their voices strained.

  "You were flirting with her."

  "Noah, I didn't realize--"

  "Realize what?"

  Darling's voice dropped even lower, the words almost indistinguishable. "I mean, I thought you were just taking care of Mike's little sister."

  Noah cleared his throat, his tone sounding almost normal to someone who didn't know him like I did. "I am."

  "I meant...you know -- is that all you're doing?"

  Noah answered too low for me to hear it. Three seconds later the front screen banged shut and he was gone.

  **********

  I ate my southwestern bean pie alone -- not even the prospect of a future date with Phil Darling on the horizon.

  I was okay with that. I wasn't attracted to him, hadn't been remotely attracted to any man other than Noah for a good three years. I'd felt like a liar on every one of my dates over that time period and I didn't want to lie to Phil.

  Or lie with him.

  I knew, however, I was going to have to find some guy to fuck Noah out of my system -- some guy other than my brother's old high school buddy. It was going to take a lot of fucking to erase last night. More than one man. Maybe more than one at a time. I had it that bad -- for so very long -- and last night had made it a hundred times worse.

  Sighing, I cleared the table, made the cup of hot chocolate I'd missed out on the evening before and crawled back into bed with a fresh sketchbook.

  No zombies this time. Instead, I drew my body from memory. My thighs, my calves, the full hips, the almost narrow waist and pert C cups, my pale auburn hair flowing down to cover my nipples in a faint nod to modesty.

  It was a beautiful body -- at least it was on paper. I didn't know how it appeared to Noah. Judging by his dates, he seemed to prefer smaller women. Scowling, I started to draw a line through the picture but stopped before the pencil reached the first curve of flesh.

  I pulled an eraser from my case, obliterating the harsh line. Noah might or might not have a problem with how I looked -- but I didn't. I wouldn't. I'd grown up with a big, beautiful mother my father had worshipped with his dying breath -- I wasn't going to tarnish that memory by hating what I saw in the mirror.

  Too bad my parents belonged to another generation, one raised before sub-zero sizing had become standard in the department stores.

  "Fuck." I tossed the eraser and pencil into the case, then dropped it and sketchbook on the floor. I turned off the light and rolled onto my side, trying to remind myself that I didn't give a damn if Noah Lodge thought I was beautiful, or smart or talented or anything other than his best friend's sister or the plump chick three doors down.

  I was done with him -- as done with him as he obviously was done with me.

  Reminding myself a hundred times over, I finally fell asleep.

  **********

  Shouting woke me around midnight. Shouting and screams.

  Horrible, horrible screams -- the kind they had tortured us with in those driver's ed movies in high school, pictures of teenagers in mangled cars flashing on the overhead screen, their arms bent at odd angles, mouths open in pain, the volume turned all the way up.

  I bolted upright, my gaze jerking to the left and the bedroom window. The Donovans had their flood lights on and the screaming came from that direction. I tossed my robe around me and scooped up my cell phone as I moved to the window. Drawing back the curtain, I saw a man I assumed was Mr. Donovan. He held a shotgun, the tip of its long barrel pointed at something on the ground.

  Above that something was Noah, an arm twisted in his iron grip as his deep voice boomed at Donovan. "Take that fucking gun back inside before you kill someone!"

  Noah turned his head, caught me watching him. He stared at me one long second, his gaze full of controlled fury as he applied more torque to the arm he held. The screaming started all over again, the body beneath Noah beginning to thrash.

  Hitting the speed dial for 911, I put the phone to my ear just as I heard the first blare of sirens and saw the reflection of red and blue lights bouncing off the front of a nearby house. Seconds later uniformed officers piled onto the man beneath Noah, cuffing the guy and hauling him to his feet.

  Dressed all in black, he towered over the cops, easily topping six-six. A black hood obscured the guy's face and Noah jerked it back, giving me my first real look at him.

  A kid. A gigantic kid, but a kid all the same. He had a baby face -- freckled and round. With his red hair, he looked like he could be my kid brother or my big brother's kid. Dirt and tears streaked his face. A thin line of blood mixed with mucus ran from his nose, the side of his face starting to purple in a bruise.

  Catching me staring at the kid, Noah jerked a thumb at the cops. "Get this piece -- put him in the fucking squad car."

  One of the uniformed officers started to obey. The kid's knees buckled. He folded to the ground and the cop looked at Noah.

  "I think you broke the little bastard's arm, Lodge"

  Noah's glance cut my way for half a second before he looked back to the cop. "Then put him in an ambulance. Just get him the hell out of here!"

  One of the cops standing in the circle had stopped gaping at the kid on the ground and was watching me through the window. Noah caught the direction of the guy's gaze. His arm shot out, grabbed hold of the cop's collar and pulled him close. Noah's lips moved, the words too softly spoken for me to hear through the window, and then the cop nodded. Noah let go of the guy, glaring at me as the man quick stepped out of sight and I snapped the curtains shut.

  Ten minutes later, I sat on my couch, shaking violently as a female police officer took my statement.

  "It was pretty much over before I knew what was going on," I explained. "The screaming woke me."

  Making a note in the small pad balanced on her knee, she tittered nervously. "Yeah, his arm is pretty jacked. He's lucky Noah didn't break it."

  Her response to the boy's injury unnerved me. "He looked pretty young."

  "Seventeen, but he's built like a linebacker." She shrugged. "I helped serve a warrant last week on a fifteen year old who beat and..." She stopped, seemed to reconsider what she was going to say and shrugged again. "Baby face or not, he'll get charged as an adult."

  She stared at me until I was ready to squirm in my seat.

  I cleared my throat, tried to smile even though the boy's screams were still echoing in my head. "Was there something else, Officer Hicks?"

  She blushed, surprising me. "I've been expecting to meet you for a long time, just not like this."

  I lifted a brow. I'd never heard of Amanda Hicks before she'd stepped through my front door and introduced herself fifteen minutes ago. She was a good decade older than me, but trim and athletic. Age aside, she might be Noah's type. I couldn't think of any other reason she'd expect to be introduced to me.

  "How's that?" I asked.

  "I mean, you know, someone at the station is always throwing a cookout -- and the way Noah's always talking about you..." She trailed off and glanced at the front door before her head tilted intimately in my direction. "We've got this room at the station for kids, for when..."

  Her face clouded for a minute and she brushed the room's purpose away with a wave of her hand. "Well, you know. We've got stuffed animals in it, boxes of crayons and picture books -- every last one of yours, I think. He brings the books in, leaves them at his desk for the
first few days while he shows them to anyone who'll pay attention. Then he puts them in the room for the kids."

  I blinked, not knowing what to say or think. Another uncomfortable second ticked by before I mumbled something I hoped would shut her up. "He's always been very supportive of my work."

  Laughing, she rolled her eyes at me and flipped her notepad shut. "Honey, supportive isn't the word for it."

  Before I could ask what that was supposed to mean, someone knocked against the screen's vinyl frame. The front door was open. I looked over to see Noah standing in the pale circle of my porch light.

  Hicks stood, offering her hand as she said good-bye. "I hope we can meet again, under different circumstances."

  I nodded and forced another smile on my face. There would be no police union cookout or Christmas party in my future. She was mistaken about Noah's feelings. She didn't know him like I did, didn't realize he was choosing to stand outside and knock rather than come in and that the choice wasn't without meaning. I knew what it meant and the realization cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

  I followed her to the door, still smiling. She nodded at Noah, he nodded back, his gaze leaving my face for no more than a second. When Hicks was out of ear shot, he looked down, one hand running nervously along the door frame.

  He was holding a set of keys in his other hand, metal grinding against metal as he clenched his fist. "I figured you might want to spend the night at a hotel or something."

  A hotel -- another telling choice. Not him in my bed or on my couch or me sleeping at his place. Just me, at a hotel, Noah's duty to Mike executed. The annoying little sister and one night stand secured and safe.

  I shook my head, rejecting the idea of him taking me anywhere. He reached for the screen's handle. I grabbed it first and clicked the lock. "I don't need you to keep an eye on me anymore, Noah. The kid's in the hospital. I don't think he's going to be bothering me any time soon."

  He swallowed, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His eyes drifted open and crawled slowly up my face. "That's what you really want?"

  Knowing I'd never get the lie past my lips, I nodded. I started to shut the door, but he raised his hand, stopping me.

  "You remember how to set the alarm, right?"

  "Yeah, I kn--"

  "I can...double check it." He gripped the screen handle, the knob rattling from the tension of his fingers tightening around it. "If you want me to, that is."

  I shook another lie out and finished closing the door. I threw the dead bolt and punched the new pass code in to set the alarm. Then I walked slowly through the house, shutting off the lights as I went.

  In my bedroom, I left the lamp on and crawled into bed crying.

  **********

  My cell phone vibrated straight off the night stand at around six thirty am. I picked it up from the floor, glanced at a number I didn't recognize and considered hitting dismiss. Instead, I suppressed a groan, hit answer and mumbled a greeting.

  A high-pitched voice with just a trace of masculinity burst through the speaker. "Did that fucking pervert escape or something?"

  I looked at the phone's display again to see if the caller's information had miraculously populated. Still just a number I didn't recognize.

  "Who is this?" Rude as the jackass calling me was, I managed to keep my tone polite. The area code was the same as mine, so it could be a neighbor.

  "Don Donovan -- now answer my question. Did that fuck get loose or something?"

  Two thoughts struck me at the same time. The first was more a feeling of dread at the prospect of the kid making his way to my house to finish whatever he had planned to start last night. The second thing was that Donovan's parents must not have liked him very much to name him Don.

  Suppressing a giggle and a thin thread of fear with it, I answered Donovan as he started to repeat his question. "Dude, I don't know -- and why do you ask?"

  "Because Officer Lodge is on guard outside your door."

  I heard a woman's voice speaking in a soft, unsure whisper. "I think he's sleeping, dear. It's probably not what you think -- he isn't even in uniform."

  More whispers followed as she urged him to hang up and he argued with her. I didn't wait to find out which Donovan would win that fight. I snapped the phone shut and marched into the front room, not even bothering to grab my robe before I threw the door open.

  "You stupid, obstinate--"

  Noah woke with a start, the deck chair he'd pinched from my back patio falling over with him in it. He shook his head, rubbed at his eyes. "Don't be angry, baby--"

  "Baby!" He was obviously too tired to remember he'd dumped me yesterday morning.

  "I mean, Patricia..." He blinked and gave his head another sharp shake. "I was just..."

  He floundered some more as my temper boiled over. "Noah Lodge, you colossal asshole--"

  The words froze in my mouth. He'd put a jacket on sometime last night after I'd locked the door on him. It was the same one he'd been wearing yesterday afternoon. As he picked himself up from the ground, the pockets spilled. Loose change, a slip of paper and a little black box came tumbling out.

  Noah's gaze followed mine. Seeing the box, he scooped it up and shoved it deep into his pocket like he was burying a mistake. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You are -- and you clearly don't want me here -- so I'll leave."

  Still talking, he started to turn away.

  "What was that?"

  "What?" His hand flexed inside his pocket, telling me he knew exactly what I was inquiring after.

  Instead of walking away when I didn't answer him, he bent down and gathered the rest of the spilled contents from the ground, the yellow slip of paper disappearing into the same pocket as the box.

  I told myself the box wasn't what I thought it was -- it couldn't be. Lots of things come in little black boxes. It could be anything, could be for anyone. I knew that, but I couldn't keep my mouth shut. "You know what I'm talking about."

  His hand twisted inside the pocket but didn't emerge. "Nothing you care to see, baby girl."

  His tone and the stress of the last two days hit me all at once. My knees buckled, my body folding faster than the kid had last night. As fast as I fell, Noah still managed to rip the screen door open and catch me before I hit the floor.

  "You're shaking, baby."

  No fucking joke. I pushed at him, tried to extract myself from his strong arms even though I had been dying all night just to have him hold me again.

  "Stop fighting, Pattycake. You promised no more pulling away."

  I batted at his chest. "I didn't pull away!"

  That wasn't true. I had pulled away -- but not first. Not first, not until after he'd run out and ignored my text and made it clear to Darling that he was just looking after his best friend's little sister. I swung at him again, the attempt futile as he cinched me against him, erasing the space between us, and stood up.

  "You're the one who ran out," I reminded him. "First light and you were out the door."

  "I know, baby. I was scared shitless." Cradling me against his chest, Noah shoved the door shut with his foot. He carried me to the couch. Still holding me, he sat down.

  "You want to know what's in the box, Patricia Harper, pull it out and see for yourself." He was staring hard at me, his gaze as unreadable as his voice was strained.

  I reached my fingers into the pocket but he stopped me. He fished the slip of paper out, folding it until just the name of a store and the date stamp were visible.

  Shit, he'd driven to Tiffany's in Atlanta. Whatever was inside the box, he had purchased it Saturday at a little after one pm.

  I drew a hard breath in. "Why'd you run out yesterday morning -- you wouldn't even look me in the eye."

  Half-question, half-accusation, the words erupted in a stuttering mess.

  "Baby girl, you think I'm a player -- an absolute dog."

  I shot him a look, letting him know I wasn't the only woman in a hundred mile radius holding that opinion
.

  "Not with you, baby. Never with you." A smile crept along his face, faltering as his mouth began to tremble. "I couldn't look at you because I was afraid I'd find you pulling away. I needed something to show you I was serious before you had the chance to shut me out again. That's why I didn't answer your text, either."

  I buried my face against his shoulder, my hand inching toward the pocket. He wrapped his fingers around mine. "Not yet, Pattycake."

  Twisting to his side, Noah dumped me on my butt. Pushing the coffee table away from the couch, he got down on one knee. He reached into his pocket, his hand pausing. He stared at my clothing, seeming to notice for the first time that morning just how little I had on. The lacy camisole was held together in the front with silk ties threaded beneath my breasts to lift them. Lace tap pants covered my bottom -- barely.

  He sucked his bottom lip in, his eyes slowly closing.

  When he opened them again, his hot gaze pinned me to the couch. "You're letting me take that off," he warned before his hand emerged with the box.

  The box popped open with an upward swipe of his thumb, revealing a princess-cut diamond surrounded on all four sides with a row of smaller round brilliants, another row encased in the platinum band.

  "Yes!"

  Half smiling, he licked at his top lip before his tongue slowly curled back inside. "Baby, slow down. I didn't ask anything yet."

  I nodded, a blush heating my cheeks. More than embarrassment, I was flushed from that little display of tongue and the knowledge of how very skilled it was.

  "You remember that time when you were ten and I beat the crap out of Joey Stahls?"

  I nodded again. Joey had made the very dumb mistake of pushing me down at the bus stop and telling me my freckles were dried lice.

  "Well, when my daddy was done tanning my butt, he asked me why I did it." He stopped, his cheeks burning a bright pink beneath his summer tan. "I told him--"

  His voice broke and he had to start over. "I told him it was because Joey had hurt you and made you cry and I had to kick Joey's ass because I was going to marry you when I grew up."

  My breathing shallowed to nothing. He'd been twelve. "You grew out of it, you had--"