Page 9 of Curvy Perfection

“And you haven’t put any money on this at all?” Kirsty asked.

This was not the first time Ward had to tell her the same thing. “No, this is the first I’ve heard of it. Trust me, I’m surprised. It’s not like we give off those vibes.” Ward saw Kirsty’s face go red. “What?”

“It’s … well, according to Bethany, you and I give off a lot of sexual tension.” She wrinkled her nose. “I mean, I don’t see what she sees. We’ve never been nice to one another. Unless you count, you know, prom night. That was it.”

“Exactly. You and I are not compatible. We never have been. It’s why we argue all the time. We’re not even friends.”

She smiled at him and it looked like a genuine smile. The kind that stole his breath, and stopped him from thinking. Crap.

“Ugh, just so you know, to be clear, Christopher, he, ugh, says the same thing. The whole sexual tension.”

“You know, I think we should get them to have an eye test or something. Maybe stop watching all those television shows they seem to love bingeing.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Christopher didn’t binge-watch anything. He rarely watched television, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. From what he knew, Bethany didn’t have time to watch television. According to Randall, any spare moment they had was spent together.

Having a large family didn’t exactly bode well for free time, or at least that was what he heard. He would love to have a large family, and not that he admitted it to anyone, but he wanted to be a father as well.

“So, we ignore the bet,” Kirsty said. “It hasn’t done us any harm, and we didn’t even know about it. Who cares?”

“I agree.”

“Which brings us to the kiss,” he said.

“Right, the kiss. Do we really need to talk about that? It was a kiss. It means nothing, right? Everyone kisses from time to time, and I think we must have tripped or something,” Kirsty said.

“Yeah, you tripped, I caught you, and in the process our lips ended up together.”

“See, this is so easily explained.” She smiled at him and he smiled back.

Ward knew he could walk away. That was the sensible thing to do, because they didn’t like each other. There was no sexual tension between them, and it was the right thing to do.

Only, he couldn’t stop thinking about that damn kiss. Pushing aside his crazy reasons and excuses, nothing made sense to him, other than the truth. He wanted Kirsty. It was crazy, completely and totally insane, but maybe the kiss had started something. Now he wanted to finish it.

“It’s not easily explained, Kirsty. You and I both know that. I have nothing to do with the bet, but that kiss I was part of. I liked kissing you. I’ve been thinking about that kiss so much it has distracted me from work. I’d like to kiss you again.”

“Ward, what are you doing?”

“I have no idea, but I can’t stop it.”

“Is this because of the bet?” she asked.

“I don’t give a flying fuck about that bet. I didn’t even know about it, and now, all I want to do is kiss you. I know you’re in an old t-shirt with stains on it, and ugly-looking shorts, but right now, I want to kiss you, Kirsty.”

She was standing, leaning against the kitchen counter.

He took a step toward her, then another step. He stopped just in front of her and stared into her brown eyes.

In that moment, Ward knew he’d been coming to the bar, seeking her out, all for those eyes. They were beautiful, dark brown.

Kirsty didn’t know this, no one knew this, but he had several art books at home locked away, with pictures he’d drawn over the years, all of them of Kirsty. He’d never admitted it to anyone, nor had he shown any of them.

Fuck, was he a weird kind of stalker? Is that what this was?

He put his hand on her hip and she didn’t pull away from him, nor did she push him away. She didn’t tell him to stop.

All she needed to do was tell him to stop and he would.

He cupped her face, and she tilted her head back, staring back at him. Those lips were a temptation—so plump, so ripe, and so ready to be kissed.