Read Online Divine Phoenix by Heather Rainier - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Heather Rainier
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thing makes me go off the wagon.”
Clay waited until she met his eyes again before speaking. The gold specks in the mossy-green depths of his eyes sparkled with intensity as he murmured, “Lily. I said you’re not fat. You’ve bought into the stereotypes.” He removed the wok from the fire and kept stirring. “You were always so hard on yourself. If you’ll forgive me, your mom didn’t help much, either, with the things she used to say to you.”
Her mom’s words had echoed in her memories throughout the years. “Lily, is that really what you should be eating? Lily, that is quite enough. Lily, I was never that large when I was your age. Lily, perhaps if you ate less, clothes shopping would be more fun.”
“Mom meant well. She said she worried about me.”
“She probably did, but I think she may also have worried what other people thought. No, you were never stick thin, but no one in your family was. Even your mom was curvy.” Clay cringed and shuddered. “I can’t believe I just said that, but it is true. So it should come as no surprise that she’d have a daughter that was also curvy and voluptuous.” The honest and straightforward way he said it and the way he kept looking at her made her feel jumpy inside, but she wanted to believe him.
Setting the wok aside, he crooked his finger, and she followed him to the living room. She sat carefully to avoid jostling her incision, and he reached for a book and a magazine on his coffee table. He opened the magazine, which was a celebrity news and fashion weekly.
“I bought this for a recipe it had in the back. I don’t want you to think I’m getting in touch with my girly side or anything.”
Lily laughed, thinking there was absolutely nothing “girly” about the utterly masculine man sitting next to her. He turned to a photo spread of a fashion show and gestured to the models going through their paces on the catwalk. Next, he opened the book and laid it next to the open magazine. It was a compilation of the art of a famous pinup-girl artist. The scenes on the pages featured voluptuous, leggy, busty women. Several were partially or thinly veiled nudes in seasonal themes, obviously intended for a calendar from some bygone year. Several even had pale pink nipples visible.
Clay caressed her shoulder as he looked at her and then pointed at a catwalk model who undoubtedly suffered from anorexia judging by the hollows under her cheekbones, slightly sunken chest, and protruding joints.
“Can you tell me why this is now considered sexy, and this,” he pointed at one of the curvy pinup girls, “is considered overweight? Because I don’t get it.” He turned a page in the magazine and pointed to an ad for a metabolic weight loss energy shake program, one that she’d considered trying. “This is a multibillion dollar industry bent on telling you that you’re not good enough the way you are. And you’re worried because I cooked with butter and oil tonight. It’ll taste good and you’ll be satisfied by it. We won’t be going through a stick of butter a day, so you have no reason to worry. For my part, Lily, I’m more worried about why you see yourself as fat than anything else.”
“But my husband—”
“Abused you. You can’t trust his word. I don’t know why he complained about your weight. I think you’re beautiful, and I wish you could see it.” She glanced at him and wondered if the heat she saw in his eyes was just a trick of the fading afternoon sunlight.
Lily looked at the photos of the catwalk models and the images in the art book. “You’re right, but…ugh…look at me, Clay. Really . I’m out of shape. I probably couldn’t walk half a mile without getting winded.” And that wasn’t the only problem she had, thinking of the tattoo again.
Clay smiled and shrugged. “So get in shape, but don’t kill yourself trying to lose weight, especially not to please someone else. Any man who thinks you should lose weight needs to pull
Clay waited until she met his eyes again before speaking. The gold specks in the mossy-green depths of his eyes sparkled with intensity as he murmured, “Lily. I said you’re not fat. You’ve bought into the stereotypes.” He removed the wok from the fire and kept stirring. “You were always so hard on yourself. If you’ll forgive me, your mom didn’t help much, either, with the things she used to say to you.”
Her mom’s words had echoed in her memories throughout the years. “Lily, is that really what you should be eating? Lily, that is quite enough. Lily, I was never that large when I was your age. Lily, perhaps if you ate less, clothes shopping would be more fun.”
“Mom meant well. She said she worried about me.”
“She probably did, but I think she may also have worried what other people thought. No, you were never stick thin, but no one in your family was. Even your mom was curvy.” Clay cringed and shuddered. “I can’t believe I just said that, but it is true. So it should come as no surprise that she’d have a daughter that was also curvy and voluptuous.” The honest and straightforward way he said it and the way he kept looking at her made her feel jumpy inside, but she wanted to believe him.
Setting the wok aside, he crooked his finger, and she followed him to the living room. She sat carefully to avoid jostling her incision, and he reached for a book and a magazine on his coffee table. He opened the magazine, which was a celebrity news and fashion weekly.
“I bought this for a recipe it had in the back. I don’t want you to think I’m getting in touch with my girly side or anything.”
Lily laughed, thinking there was absolutely nothing “girly” about the utterly masculine man sitting next to her. He turned to a photo spread of a fashion show and gestured to the models going through their paces on the catwalk. Next, he opened the book and laid it next to the open magazine. It was a compilation of the art of a famous pinup-girl artist. The scenes on the pages featured voluptuous, leggy, busty women. Several were partially or thinly veiled nudes in seasonal themes, obviously intended for a calendar from some bygone year. Several even had pale pink nipples visible.
Clay caressed her shoulder as he looked at her and then pointed at a catwalk model who undoubtedly suffered from anorexia judging by the hollows under her cheekbones, slightly sunken chest, and protruding joints.
“Can you tell me why this is now considered sexy, and this,” he pointed at one of the curvy pinup girls, “is considered overweight? Because I don’t get it.” He turned a page in the magazine and pointed to an ad for a metabolic weight loss energy shake program, one that she’d considered trying. “This is a multibillion dollar industry bent on telling you that you’re not good enough the way you are. And you’re worried because I cooked with butter and oil tonight. It’ll taste good and you’ll be satisfied by it. We won’t be going through a stick of butter a day, so you have no reason to worry. For my part, Lily, I’m more worried about why you see yourself as fat than anything else.”
“But my husband—”
“Abused you. You can’t trust his word. I don’t know why he complained about your weight. I think you’re beautiful, and I wish you could see it.” She glanced at him and wondered if the heat she saw in his eyes was just a trick of the fading afternoon sunlight.
Lily looked at the photos of the catwalk models and the images in the art book. “You’re right, but…ugh…look at me, Clay. Really . I’m out of shape. I probably couldn’t walk half a mile without getting winded.” And that wasn’t the only problem she had, thinking of the tattoo again.
Clay smiled and shrugged. “So get in shape, but don’t kill yourself trying to lose weight, especially not to please someone else. Any man who thinks you should lose weight needs to pull
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