Snarky Heroine

  Curvy Cafe Book Club: Book 5

  Flora Madison

  Copyright © 2022 by Flora Madison

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by Geeky Girl Author Services

  Cover Design by Cormar Covers

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  What to Read Next …

  Chapter One

  Sidney

  In all my thirty-three years on Earth, I’ve never been part of a book club, a strange fact considering I’ve been a bookseller since I was old enough to drive. Not only am I friendless in a new town, but it seems like these gals may just be my kind of people. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t losing my mind with excitement, which is why I’m an hour early, nursing a glass of Chardonnay down the street from Curvy Cafe, at the local watering hole.

  The place is packed, but I’m not surprised. Not only is it happy hour, but for a place called “Jackson Hole,” the bar’s actually pretty fancy. In fact, I’m consistently surprised at how cozy-chic Emerald Village is as a whole. It’s not the city, but for now, it’s home.

  With strangers darting around me, hugging and letting out squeals of recognition, a wave of self-consciousness washes over me. I pull my phone out when it hits me; I haven't played today’s Wordle puzzle. It’s my life’s mission to get it in one try, but dammit if it always takes me about four. My hips wiggle on the barstool, and I straighten my shoulders, face glued to the screen as I type in my first word: T-E-A-R-S.

  “I always start with Sonic.” A low, gravelly voice pulls my attention, and I’m met with the brightest pair of light blue eyes I’ve ever seen. The tall, dark stranger’s gaze temporarily paralyzes me as a rush of heat ignites my core. With his dark complexion and dimpled half-grin, he could pass for a movie star. But it’s his stature that nearly has me melting off of my barstool—equal parts tall and broad, with muscles that ripple through his plain white t-shirt. Damn!

  “Well.” I clear my throat, trying to regain composure. “Everyone has their method.”

  “That may be true. Mine’s just better.” He cocks his head, and a lock of dark hair falls over his eye. I’m about to agree with him, just so I can catch my breath from being in his presence, but not one ounce of me believes his word rivals mine.

  “I completely disagree.” I hold my screen out so he can see it, causing him to take a step closer to me. His scent fills the air between us, crisp and clean with a hint of cedar. “I have all the major players here. T-R-S and the most popular vowels A, and E.” I suddenly feel like Pat fucking Sajak.

  A beat of silence passes between us as he leans over me, examining my screen. I can almost feel his chest rising and falling with each breath he takes. An image of this gigantic, sexy stranger without a shirt flashes in my mind.

  A few more folks sidle up to the bar, causing him to press himself against my arm. I imagine what it would be like if he just leaned over and pressed his lips against mine. How long it’s been since I’ve kissed anyone—never anyone this hot. My heart clenches in my chest, my panties dampening instantly.

  “Nah, you’re wrong.” When he stands up straight, I have to strain my neck to meet his mischievous gaze. He breaks first, nodding at the bartender for another beer, who seemed to be waiting for him to order another drink. He takes a swig, then extends his hand. “Anson Stollar.”

  “Sidney Mathis.” A jolt of electricity wiggles up my arm when his giant palm engulfs mine. I seriously didn’t know they grew men like this up in the mountains; otherwise, I may have been coaxed out of the city sooner.

  “You’re new here, Sidney Mathis.” It’s not a question.

  I narrow my eyes. “What gave it away?”

  “You look out of place.”

  “What a lovely thing to say to a gal.”

  He eyes me up and down. “It’s your shoes if you must know.”

  I glance down at my black stilettos with red bottom soles. I saved up for six months to buy these bad boys, but he doesn’t need to know that. “You got a thing against fuck-me heels?”

  Anson lets out a short burst of laughter. “Oh God, no.” He groans and runs his hand through his dark hair before staring straight at my chest—which looks phenomenal in my black tank top. He licks his lips, and a rush of dormant butterflies begin to headbang in my guts. “But those are city shoes, darling.”

  “Would work boots be better? Uggs? No, wait…bedroom slippers?”

  Anson leans in close once more, and it takes all of my strength not to lean back on instinct. I’m used to men being forward, but not necessarily this playful about it. It puts me on my toes, and dammit, that’s exactly where I like to be with a man. “Practicality rules around here.”

  “Well.” I let my tongue linger against my top teeth. “Practical ain’t me….darling.”

  His full lips spread into a smile. “And that’s how I know you’re not from around here.” He pulls away, teasing me again, wishing he’d get up on me and stay there.

  “Fine.” I let out a long exhale. “I’m only in Emerald Village to help with the new bookstore chain down the street.”

  “Books Anonymous?”

  “I’m sorry, is there another bookstore down the street?” I punch up the sarcasm by looking around the bar, pointing over my shoulder. As expected, Anson laughs, and I find myself grinning like a goofball in return. There’s only one thing sexier than a man with a sense of humor, a man who, in turn, enjoys mine.

  “Anson.” The bartender leans toward us, practically shouting over the sudden rush of patrons surrounding us. “Phone. It’s Bethany.”

  In a flash, Anson’s smile falls from his face. The bartender shrugs, glancing around at the growing crowd. Every minute not spent slinging drinks is a moment closer to falling into the weeds. “Shit. I’ll take it in the office.”

  “Office? You work here?” I ask, wanting just a few more minutes with the sexy, sarcastic brute.

  “Worse, I own the place.” I nod, wishing the bartender would just take a message. “Give the lady another one on me.” He calls out before taking my hand in his. “Don’t be a stranger, Sidney Mathis.” Before I can answer, he dodges through the crowd, leaving me wanting more.

  Don’t worry, I most definitely will not. But one thing bothers me. Who the hell is Bethany?

  Chapter Two

  Sidney

  “Hells bells, this is an exciting night!” Audrey Grace, the feisty redhead who owns Curvy Cafe raises her wine glass. “Not only does this mark our one-year anniversary of book club, but we have four new members!” The three other original members, Charlotte, Willow, and Lizzie all whoop it up as I feel heat rising to my cheeks.

  Audrey pipes up again. “I’d like to welcome Ariel Russo.” Everyone claps for the woman in lavender scrubs. “Vanessa Paul.” Vanessa raises a perfectly manicured hand before smoothing her jet black bob. “Our resident day manager, Lainey Mitchum.” Lainey lets out a little yee-haw, her face already flushed from the wine. “And a special welcome to Sidney Mathis, who is responsible for our new book club discount at Books Anonymous.”

  Lizzie rushes over to me and does a little dance while everyone cheers. Now it’s my turn to blush. I couldn’t have asked for a warmer welcome.

  We all grab seats on the sofas, digging into the delicious cookie tray and assortment of cupcakes. After the two glasses of wine I had at Jackson Hole, I opt for a little water. That interaction with Anson left me hot, bothered, and wanting more. So much so, that it’s hard to concentrate on talking about our current book—which for me, is a rare occurrence, indeed.

  Audrey and Willow get into a sisterly debate on whether the heroine of the story was mean or just assertive. I’m about to chime in when Lainey nudges me in the ribs. “What’s up?” Her olive green eyes sparkle at me.

  Lainey’s the one who brought me into the club. She came in to buy this month’s pick, and we instantly bonded. When she said she was buying it for book club, she must’ve seen the longing in my eyes because she invited me on the spot, and promised me they were expanding the club and I wouldn’t be the only new girl. I, in turn, gave everyone in the club twenty percent off this month’s (and every month thereafter) pick.

  It never hurts to use your employee perks for the greater good.

  “Nothing’s up,” I say, but I can’t hide the smile creeping across my lips.

  “Oh my God, spill it.” Lainey reaches for the wine, but I stop her.

  “None for me. I already had some.”

  “What? You pre-gamed and didn’t invite me?”

  I let out a little giggle. It goes unnoticed by the group as more people have joined in the mean vs. assertive debate. “I got here early so I went to the bar down the street.”

  “Jackson Hole?” The gal in scrubs, Ariel, leans in. I didn’t know she was listening.

  “That’s the one.”

  “The owner’s so hot,” she says, fanning herself dramatically. A quick pang of jealousy washes over me. “Not my type, though. Too gregarious. My brother went to hi gh school with him.”

  “Anson Stollar?” Lainey asks. “He comes in here all the time.”

  “He does?” I can’t hide the excitement in my tone.

  “You have the hots for him.” Ariel says, narrowing her eyes.

  “No,” I say, then immediately change my tune. “Okay, fine. Yeah, he’s a fucking babe.”

  “Definitely,” Lainey agrees. “One of Emerald Village’s most eligible bachelors.”

  “Really? No girlfriend? Lover?” I give up and pour myself a small glass of wine. “Wife?”

  “Dear God, no!”

  “Then who’s Bethany?”

  “Bethany?” Ariel taps her fingertip on her chin. “Oh!” She lowers her already soft voice so that I have to lean in close. “Bethany is his mom.”

  “His mom?” I wasn’t expecting that. A wave of relief washes over me. Of course, I figured he was single from the way he was acting, but you never can be too sure. The last married man who hit on me got a knee to the balls. He was also my best friend’s husband.

  If the other woman in Anson’s life is his mother, I can handle that.

  Other woman? A little presumptuous, Sid.

  “And that’s why she isn’t mean. A woman who says what she means and means what she says is an asset to the female sex!” Willow’s voice rises above the crowd, cutting our conversation short.

  “Here, here!” Lizzie applauds, and we all follow suit. Even Audrey claps after rolling her eyes, realizing that her sister has made a fine point.

  “He’s a good guy.” Lainey nudges me once more. “You should definitely pursue him if you’re interested.”

  I wave her off like it’s no big deal, like I haven’t already been planning my next trip to Jackson Hole. It’s been a long time since a man’s captured my attention like Anson has. Hell, I’d go back over there after book club if I didn’t think it’d make me look desperate. He said it himself, I’m an outsider. Maybe women here aren’t go-getters.

  But maybe that’s why Anson Stollar is still single?

  It’s early enough on a Thursday night that we all decide to stay for one more drink after our book discussion. Seeing all of the smiling faces surrounding me, I start to imagine a better life here in Emerald Village, even if it is only temporary. The women genuinely seem to care about each other. I’ve never had a warmer welcome anywhere in my life.

  As we all grab our bits before heading out the door, each and every one of the ladies hugged goodbye. I’m not ashamed to say the gesture made me feel a little less homesick. Though the city is big and sometimes deemed mean, my life is there. Tonight, for the first time, I imagine what it’d be like to escape all of the hustle and bustle, and just live a quiet life with good friends…and the idea of nuzzling into Anson's big, strong arms doesn’t sound so bad, either.

  Chapter Three

  Anson

  It’s impossible to get Sidney out of my head. I love my mother, but the timing of that phone call about killed me. Having to tear myself away from Sidney’s rich, chocolate-brown eyes felt like losing a part of myself. Every time she brushed a strand of her chestnut hair away from the full of her cheek, I’d imagine what it would feel like to take her face in my hands and press my lips against hers. And those curves, perfectly round in all the right places. I can’t wait to get my hands on her.

  Don’t get too attached, Anson. Sidney’s not here forever.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the voice of reason that worms its way into my thoughts. No, she may not be in town forever, but I sure as hell can get to know her while she is. Though I’ve tried long-distance before with disastrous results, and God knows a woman used to the city won’t find the same type of excitement in a quaint town like Emerald Valley.

  I let out a grunt and finish counting up the drawer. When I opened Jackson Hole, I refused to let it run my life, which is why we close at a reasonable hour every night. Maybe deep down, it was wishful thinking that I’d one day meet the woman of my dreams, and we’d start a family. I can’t help picturing Sidney in that role, round and glowing, pregnant with my babies.

  Christ…slow down, Anson.

  This isn’t like me. It’s usually the women who come on too strong with me. Boring women with little to add, no playfulness to them. But Sidney’s personality is just as sexy as her appearance. I could get used to bantering with her every day for the rest of my life.

  “Back door’s locked.” My bartender, Jimmy, calls from the doorway. “I’m headed out.”

  “Good timing.” I place the money in the safe and punch in the code. “I’m headed out, myself.” I follow Jimmy toward the front door, locking it behind me as I step out into the warm summer evening. That’s when I see her, huddled in a group of women, all headed to their cars. My entire body clenches.

  Forget the stars and the moon; it’s Sidney’s smile that lights up the night sky. Her tight jeans and ruffled blouse show off her soft, sexy curves. I’d be lying if I said it was hard to keep my eyes off her cleavage during our earlier conversation. The woman is perfect and built for a man like me—not just physically. Everything about her is absolutely perfect.

  She breaks away from the group and in an act of fate, walks to the car parked right behind mine. Her sexy “fuck-me” heels—as she called them—click against the pavement. I’m a few feet behind her, racking my brain with a good opening line. Women as whip-smart as Sidney deserve more than a simple “hello.”

  Before I can think of anything, she whips around to face me with a gun in her hands. “Stop following me.”

  “Holy shit!” I jump back, shielding my face with my hands.

  Her pinched expression gives way to confusion, then relief. “Anson?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. Put the gun down.” So much for a quippy opening line.

  “You about gave me a heart attack. You know Audrey had her purse stolen out here?” Her eyes flicker to the sky. “Well, almost.”

  My eyes adjust, and I realize that the gun in her hand isn’t a pistol. It’s a mace gun. My hand flies to my chest. “Christ.” I take a cautious step in her direction, grateful to have her attention even if it is under less than ideal circumstances. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Don’t worry. You didn’t.” She holds out the mace gun, proud of herself. “I was ready to kick your ass, mister.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder, and again I’m met with an eyeful of her billowing cleavage. She looks like one of Charlie’s Angels, but thicker and sexier.

  “I’ll take your word for it.” Now that my heart rate is returning to normal, I take a breath. “That’s a pretty intense can of mace.”

  “I’m a pretty intense woman.” Her eyes narrow in on me, challenging. I nearly stiffen in my pants.

  “I can see that.”

  “So, are you stalking me now?”

  “Yep.”

  “You could’ve always just asked for my number.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” I tease back.

  The lines in Sidney’s face smooth. “Are you really following me?”

  I let out a laugh before I can stop it. “No, Sidney. I saw you out here with your friends, and since our conversation was cut short, I thought I’d come out here and ask you if you’d like to go out with me sometime.” My heart rate picks up once more, beating almost as rapidly as when Sidney pulled the mace gun on me. When the stakes are high, as they are with Sidney, it feels like a yes or no answer is equivalent to life or death.

  “Maybe,” she says. “It depends.”

  “On what?” I move closer, taking in the smell of her coconut shampoo.

  “I’ll go on a date with you if you take me somewhere interesting. That means not just dinner and a movie followed by drinks.” My brain bypasses all of that and goes straight to having Sidney for dessert, legs spread wide across my bed while I taste every ounce of her sweet juices.

  “That’s your only stipulation?” I let out a playful scoff, and close the gap between us. Sidney audibly inhales, her eyes widening. I love keeping this woman on her toes. “I’ve lived in this town all my life.”

 

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