“If you ask me, that server could stand to eat a cheeseburger or five.”
Preach.
“So you like your women curvy?” I slip my hands from his and fold them in my lap as common-sense returns.
“If you don’t already know the answer to that question, you haven’t been paying attention.” His gaze rakes over me—what he can see above the table anyway—leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “Your curves are perfect.”
“Too bad the rest of the world isn’t as open-minded.” I’m not fishing for compliments, but men can be so oblivious to societal beauty standards and the impact they have on a woman’s self-esteem. As if being born with a pretty face or maintaining a twenty-six-inch waist can determine a person’s worth. “If I had a dollar for every time someone gave me a backhanded compliment, I wouldn’t have to—”
I catch myself just in time.
And this is why it’s too dangerous to let people in.
All it would take is one stupid slip of the tongue and my secret wouldn’t be my own anymore.
Brady frowns. “You wouldn’t have to what?”
“Nothing.” I force a smile and take a sip of my tea as I gather my thoughts. “I just mean that people can be insensitive. Like, they’ll say ‘You dance well for a big girl.’ Or, ‘If I had your cheekbones, I wouldn’t have to watch my weight either.’”
“That’s messed up.”
“It is, but I love my curves and I refuse to be ashamed because they don’t fit someone else’s idea of beauty.”
“The worst thing anyone’s ever said about me is that I have a dad-bod, and that came from Coop.”
I snort-laugh. “That’s actually a compliment.”
“Pretty sure he didn’t mean it as one.”
“Then the joke’s on him because women love dad bods. They’re good for cuddling.” I arch a brow. “Next time, ask if he wants to snuggle.”
Brady shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure Coop doesn’t want to cuddle with the likes of me.”
“Fair enough.” I swirl the straw in my glass, thoughts drifting back to Zoe. “I’m confident in my body and I don’t give a damn what our fat phobic server thinks, but I hate seeing women tear each other down. We already have to contend with the patriarchy and impossible Hollywood standards. We should use our energy to lift one another up.”
“Agreed, but you’re wrong about one thing.” He pauses, letting his words hang in the air. “A real man knows beauty comes in all shapes and sizes, and he damn sure recognizes it when he sees it.”
12
BRADY
“Are you a feminist, Brady?”
There’s a challenge in Piper’s eyes, but I’m ready for it.
My earlier nerves have faded and we’re starting to vibe, the tension between us crackling like lightning.
“I was raised by two strong women. Not only did they teach me respect, they taught me to look for inner beauty.” I chuckle. “It was an important lesson, because on the farm, no one cares what you look like, only if you’ve got the feed bucket.”
Piper laughs, and it’s a goddamn relief. My shoulders relax and the tension leaks from my body. As angry as I am about the server’s mistreatment of her, I don’t want it to ruin our date. It’s taken us weeks to get to this point, and the idea of Piper backsliding, of her closing up on me, is unacceptable.
“I still can’t believe you grew up on a farm.” She scrunches her nose. “I thought farmers were a dying breed.”
She’s kidding, but the comment hits a little too close to home.
Put it in the box, asshole.
I can worry about finances later. Piper deserves my undivided attention, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to give her anything less.
