Free Dear Soldier: BBW Contemporary Romance by Karina Ashe Page B

talk.”
    “What?” she says, careful not to disturb the bobby pins sandwiched between her clenched teeth.
    I sigh. How do you say it looks like I’m trying to be every single 90’s Disney Princess simultaneously nicely? “I feel like I’m trying too hard to impress him.”
    Kate spits out the bobby pins and frowns. “What?”
    Alright, time for a more direct approach. “You see this thing I’m in? It’s a ball gown. We’re meeting at a coffee shop that smells like patchouli.”
    “So what?”
    “ So I’m going to be surrounded by chicks who have dreads, don’t wear bras, and don’t shave their pits.”
    She winks. “Yeah, you’re gonna stand out.”
    I point at the purple, frilly, wing-like…oh hell, I don’t even know what to call it…trailing from my shins. “No shit!”
    “You’re like a mermaid.”
    “I’m on land, Kate. Mermaids live in the water.”
    She waves this observation off. “Then you’re a beached mermaid, and he’s the sexy soldier who will carry you back to sea!”
    What reality was she living in?!? I rub my temples. “Alright, I think I’ve identified the problem. Casual first dates do not require themes, especially when only one of the parties is aware that there is a theme. In fact, this is actually a really good way of ensuring there will be no future dates.”
    She shakes her head wistfully. “I think I get it.”
    “I really don’t. I don’t want him to take one look at me and think to himself, beached mermaid . Wait, scratch that. I don’t want him ever look at me and think—”
    She puts her hand on my shoulder. “Take a deep breath.”
    “I’m breathing just fine.”
    She rubs my shoulder and breathes into my ear with such exaggerated slowness that I start to feel lightheaded. “You’re just nervous.”
    “Look, I’m not nervous! I just don’t want him to compare me to a fish!”
    Kate kneels next to me and pulls me into a hug. “Yes, you are nervous.”
    I scowl and continue, “A fish that’s flopping around on the ground and needs to be picked up and carried back to the ocean…Jesus, how do you even come up with these scenarios, Kate?”
    Kate squeezes me harder. “It’s okay, Lily. On days as big as today, you’re supposed to be nervous.”
    As she rocks me back and forth, I suddenly remember the other reason I let Kate come over. She’s the only one who thinks my correspondence with Ian is romantic. Everyone else thinks it’s a little fucked-up.
    “I can’t believe you finally get to see him!” Kate continues. “And after all this time, he’s finally going to see you, too!”
    So, yeah. This is why people think this thing I’ve got going on with Ian is messed-up. We’ve spent two years exchanging letters, chatting, and talking. We know pretty much everything there is to know about the other person…except what the other one looks like.
     
     

Chapter 3
     
    Ian
     
    There’s only one woman at The Happy Pot that has a red rose splayed across her table. I notice her immediately, but not because of the rose. I see her because she’s the first thing anyone who walked through the door would see. In an ocean of granny square ponchos, oversized sunglasses, and bad Christmas sweaters, she stands out like a fish out of water.
    Literally.
    Something sheer and fin-like fans from her calves and shoulders, sparkling like dew under the antique chandelier tacked to the cracked ceiling. The heels cutting into her ankles look so big to walk in it wouldn’t surprise me if she claimed she’d swum her way here. Aqua and purple sequins stretch over her curves like scales.
    Now, I’ve personally never found scales very sexy. (I mean, really, what kind of freak would?) Which is why, as I stand in the middle of the small, dark room as hipsters discuss Kafka and the TPP over fair trade coffee, I begin to question my sanity. Because suddenly scales are the sexiest things I’ve ever seen in my goddamn life.
    I want to run my hands over those scales.