Read Online Hunting for Curves (BBW Erotic Romance) by Juliane Reyer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Juliane Reyer
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switched them off.
The smell of the ocean was strong but not unpleasant and her feet scuffed over the sand-swept driveway. Under any other circumstances, she would have been floored by the location with the waves just a stone's throw away. Instead she blindly followed Evan up the steps and into the dimly lit front room.
It was a large space, with tall vaulted ceilings and picture windows overlooking the dark night, where she heard the gentle rumble of waves crashing beyond.
"Please," he urged as he flicked on more lights. "Have a seat."
"Um…" She hid her red tear-streaked faced behind her hands.
"Oh." He turned away with a courteous smile. "Third door on your left."
Her shoes clicked on the tile flooring as she entered the bathroom. She didn't even look in the large round mirror as she splashed water over her skin. She knew her eyes would be irritated but at least she could get the ruined makeup off. Then maybe she wouldn't look like a total mess in front of him.
"Would you like something to drink?" Evan called from the other room. "I opened a bottle of Chardonnay for myself."
"That's fine," she called back as she rubbed a towel over her clean face. Then she groaned as she looked at her reflection. She looked so plain without the eyeliner or blush. And of course the redness in her eyes made her look homely. But there was nothing she could do. Maybe I can convince him to turn the lights off .
With quick hands, she undid her braid and spread her hair out. Then she walked back into the room.
Evan stood next to a short coffee table and a leather sofa as he poured wine into crystal stemware. He glanced up and a small smile played on his lips. It wasn't his usual grin, more heartfelt and soft. Maybe even a little sad. Oh great, Jasmine thought. Now he pities me. She wasn't sure how this could get any worse.
He patiently waited for her to sit before he offered a glass. Then he retrieved one for himself and sat at the opposite end of the couch.
Jasmine took a sip and her gaze swept over the room, lingering over the large pieces of contemporary art on the walls. "You have a really nice place."
His eyes closed as he gave her a slow nod. "Thank you."
On a tall table by the window, sat a white sculpture of a naked man posing with his head on his shoulder, his arm hanging down as if he were reaching for the ground.
"That is a beautiful piece."
"Luke gave that to me on our second anniversary. The artist was a friend of ours."
She glanced at him and he returned a sad smile.
"Lung cancer. He passed away over a year ago."
"Oh. I'm sorry." She dropped her eyes.
"Don't be." Evan sipped his wine. He tilted his head with a faraway look in his eyes. "He didn't want anyone to mourn him. He was a brilliant man who left his mark on the world in the time he had. We should all be so lucky."
Without the faintest clue what to say, Jasmine raised her glass and took another drink. Maybe a little too fast. Her mouth was dry and the wine tickled on its way down. Leaning forward, she cupped her mouth as she tried to stifle the cough.
Evan reached for a box of tissue on an end table next to him, and offered it to her with a concerned look on his face.
She coughed once more into her hand, but she waved his gesture away as she regained control of herself. He probably thought she was going to start crying again.
"Thank you, but I'm okay." She straightened and tried to compose herself on the couch. "I didn't mean to break down right in front of you, earlier." She swirled the drink in her hand. "It wasn't exactly how I wanted the night to end."
He sighed. "I know."
There was a melancholy edge to his voice and Jasmine didn't know how to respond. She looked down at the coffee table. What was she supposed to do? Tell him everything would be okay?
She barely knew him. Not enough to offer any comfort or advice. And she was sure anything she said would sound trite, like the worst sort of greeting card clichés. What could she possibly say to a
The smell of the ocean was strong but not unpleasant and her feet scuffed over the sand-swept driveway. Under any other circumstances, she would have been floored by the location with the waves just a stone's throw away. Instead she blindly followed Evan up the steps and into the dimly lit front room.
It was a large space, with tall vaulted ceilings and picture windows overlooking the dark night, where she heard the gentle rumble of waves crashing beyond.
"Please," he urged as he flicked on more lights. "Have a seat."
"Um…" She hid her red tear-streaked faced behind her hands.
"Oh." He turned away with a courteous smile. "Third door on your left."
Her shoes clicked on the tile flooring as she entered the bathroom. She didn't even look in the large round mirror as she splashed water over her skin. She knew her eyes would be irritated but at least she could get the ruined makeup off. Then maybe she wouldn't look like a total mess in front of him.
"Would you like something to drink?" Evan called from the other room. "I opened a bottle of Chardonnay for myself."
"That's fine," she called back as she rubbed a towel over her clean face. Then she groaned as she looked at her reflection. She looked so plain without the eyeliner or blush. And of course the redness in her eyes made her look homely. But there was nothing she could do. Maybe I can convince him to turn the lights off .
With quick hands, she undid her braid and spread her hair out. Then she walked back into the room.
Evan stood next to a short coffee table and a leather sofa as he poured wine into crystal stemware. He glanced up and a small smile played on his lips. It wasn't his usual grin, more heartfelt and soft. Maybe even a little sad. Oh great, Jasmine thought. Now he pities me. She wasn't sure how this could get any worse.
He patiently waited for her to sit before he offered a glass. Then he retrieved one for himself and sat at the opposite end of the couch.
Jasmine took a sip and her gaze swept over the room, lingering over the large pieces of contemporary art on the walls. "You have a really nice place."
His eyes closed as he gave her a slow nod. "Thank you."
On a tall table by the window, sat a white sculpture of a naked man posing with his head on his shoulder, his arm hanging down as if he were reaching for the ground.
"That is a beautiful piece."
"Luke gave that to me on our second anniversary. The artist was a friend of ours."
She glanced at him and he returned a sad smile.
"Lung cancer. He passed away over a year ago."
"Oh. I'm sorry." She dropped her eyes.
"Don't be." Evan sipped his wine. He tilted his head with a faraway look in his eyes. "He didn't want anyone to mourn him. He was a brilliant man who left his mark on the world in the time he had. We should all be so lucky."
Without the faintest clue what to say, Jasmine raised her glass and took another drink. Maybe a little too fast. Her mouth was dry and the wine tickled on its way down. Leaning forward, she cupped her mouth as she tried to stifle the cough.
Evan reached for a box of tissue on an end table next to him, and offered it to her with a concerned look on his face.
She coughed once more into her hand, but she waved his gesture away as she regained control of herself. He probably thought she was going to start crying again.
"Thank you, but I'm okay." She straightened and tried to compose herself on the couch. "I didn't mean to break down right in front of you, earlier." She swirled the drink in her hand. "It wasn't exactly how I wanted the night to end."
He sighed. "I know."
There was a melancholy edge to his voice and Jasmine didn't know how to respond. She looked down at the coffee table. What was she supposed to do? Tell him everything would be okay?
She barely knew him. Not enough to offer any comfort or advice. And she was sure anything she said would sound trite, like the worst sort of greeting card clichés. What could she possibly say to a
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