Free Anywhere (BBW Romance) by Christin Lovell Page A

on, knowing I would need the added protection.
    “You ready?” I watched as Stella stuffed the same items, minus the hair supplies, into a blue leather clutch a couple inches larger than mine.
    “Yup. Let’s go get our drink on and find us some sexy papi chulos .”
    “Oh, that you know how to pronounce?” I shook my head as I walked out the door.

    Chapter Two
    Old San Juan reminded me of a cross between Miami and San Francisco. The streets were narrow and mostly one-way; they were laid up and down steep hills with cars crammed along their edges. The eclectic mix of shops, restaurants and bakeries were dotted amongst government offices and houses worth at least half a million dollars. The people danced along the sidewalks, laughing loudly as they celebrated life.
    Every shape and size woman was dressed in skintight clothes that left nothing to the imagination; the bright hues of their ensembles made me cringe as they highlighted rolls that should be concealed. Even thin women had the appearance of a beer-belly caused by the taut apparel and their shorts were so tight I was surprised they could even breathe. The men didn’t seem to mind though with their arms slung possessively around the shoulders of their dates as they strolled along the streets.
    “Ooh. I’ve seen some pretty fine pieces of sexy here but if I see one more damn rat-tail mohawk, I’m going to pull my hair out. And don’t even get me started on the muffin tops these women think are attractive.”
    I choked on my laugh as we walked towards the harbor where the cruise ships docked. The closer we got to the water, the better it felt. A faint breeze actually attempted to cool me; too bad it fanned as well as using a thin, flimsy sheet of tissue paper would. At least I still smelled good. I’d covered every part of me with my favorite gardenia lotion so when I sweat I wouldn’t smell like a wet dog.
    Coming up to the corner, we approached a hostess stand. The woman smiled and greeted us in Spanish.
    “ Un mesa por dos .” My tongue wasn’t grasping the fluency these people spoke with, but it had enough accuracy to get us by.
    The hostess nodded once, grabbed two menus and escorted us to an outdoor table. The covered patio was packed, conversations blurring into a jumbled hum that carried beyond the establishment’s borders.
    “I’m starving,” Stella said, picking up the menu off the table.
    “You must be to not complain about eating in the heat.” They did have overhead fans, which cooled the space a couple degrees.
    “ Buenos dias -“ the young woman started.
    Stella held up a finger immediately. “We need an English speaking server please.”
    “I speak English,” she said, her brows pulling together despite her smile. She was petite and youthful; her long, dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, which highlighted her model features. She wore a black polo shirt, embroidered with the restaurant’s logo, tucked into black shorts that showcased her slim, tan legs; I would kill for legs like hers.
    “Then you’ll work just fine.” Stella glanced over the menu. “What do you recommend for an alcoholic beverage?”
    “Anything with rum. All the rums we serve were brewed here locally.”
    “I’ll have a strawberry daiquiri,” Stella stated.
    “I’ll have a rum and coke with lime, please.”
    An hour later, Stella and I were more relaxed, sipping our third drink of the evening after chowing down on plantains, rice with black beans and grilled chicken. The portion sizes were huge here. We were forced to discard over half our plates because we knew our night was far from over and carrying around a to-go box would only be a nuisance.
    “Ooh, girl. Hot, Latin hunk at ten o’clock has been looking our way all evening.” I laughed when Stella tried to discreetly adjust her “girls.”
    “Go talk to him. I’ll be okay by myself for a while,” I encouraged. I’d yet to look towards the table her eyes were glued to, afraid