Free The Curvy Sister (A BBW Erotic Romance) by Jordan Bell Page B

she could host the wedding salon at my
house. I hung up the phone and let it fall from my fingers to the floor without
a clue as to what a wedding salon even was and it wasn’t until Jason and I’d
gotten out of bed hours later than I even realized I’d agreed to host one.
    Apparently, a wedding salon was
a fancy term for sitting in the same room with twenty gossiping women, a pound
of glue sticks, a flour sack of glitter, and enough mimosa mix to drop an
elephant. It meant I let every Blue, every King, and every bridesmaid into my
home to build romance from tulle, candles, and pennant banners. The same people
now prepping for Bailey’s wedding had also been a part of prepping for my
wedding. There was a lot more alcohol in the house this time around.
    I self-exiled to the front
porch swing after everyone had arrived with a craft project under one arm and a
mimosa in the other. The orange juice, admittedly, was mostly for color. 
    The warm sun struck my bare
toes while in my lap I wrapped blush pink ribbon around white envelopes. The
envelopes were to be hung from the rafters of the barn where guests could hide
a hand written love letter from a secret admirer or a kind note to brighten
someone’s day. Later, when the slow dances began, guests would be invited to
pluck them down. Love letters from strangers. It would have been a very sweet,
romantic idea if it didn’t make me gag a little. Each letter I tied off felt
like a needle through my heart.
    I blamed Jason for
discovering that kissing and sucking on my toes made me go momentarily blind
and delirious for putting me in this situation.
    “You’re a brave girl,”
Jonathan’s aunt Judith said to me later when she needed a smoke break. Aunt
Judith gazed across the fields towards the King farmhouse and plucked absently
at a thread that I suspected would soon unravel her knit shawl if she kept it
up.
    “Or stupid. I may be that
instead.” I shrugged into my lap. “I considered smothering them in their sleep,
but Sheriff Gibbs is already mad at me.”
    Aunt Judith snorted on her
cigarette and blew the smoke out through her pursed grin. “The best retaliation
would be to get yourself a new man and absolutely smother yourself in him.
Hell, get two or three. Nothing will make you feel more like a woman than
having three voracious lovers.”
    I grinned. “You know this
from personal experience?”
    “Oh sweetheart, the stories I
could tell would curl your toes.” Aunt Judith stubbed out her cigarette and
touched my ankle. I could feel her wrinkles against my skin. Her over abundant
smile turned serious. “We were all sorry to hear. I want you to know. You’re a
good girl and we’d have been proud to have you in our family.”
    I kept my head down until she
went inside so that she wouldn’t see the wetness on my lashes. That was one
thing I regretted about losing Jonathan. The King women were some of the
neatest people I’d ever met.
    I also wondered bitterly how
long it would take for the wrong people to stop apologizing.
    Lost in my own thoughts, I
didn’t hear the broken back door squeak open. I looked up when Bailey cleared
her throat politely.
    Our eyes met and my first
instinct was to vault over the back of the porch swing and make a run for it.
But since she stood stock stiff next to me, her fingers intertwined in front of
her, looking poised and very pink without a single knife or flame thrower in sight,
I held my ground.
    She cleared her throat again,
a tiny bird noise. Even though we both had blue eyes and blonde hair, there was
nothing similar in shade, shape, or presence. I wondered if maybe one of us had
been found in a basket on the side of the road when we were babies. Probably
me.
    “I wanted to say,” she began
quietly, “thank you for hosting today. The snacks you made were very good and
you’ve been perfectly nice all afternoon.”
    Surprise held my tongue. One
thing we’d never done all this time was talk, mostly because there seemed