Developing Her Curves : A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Read online

  CONTENTS

  Developing Her Curves

  NEWSLETTER

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  NEWSLETTER

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS

  LAIRDS & LADIES

  RUSSIAN UNDERWORLD

  IRISH WOLF SHIFTERS

  Collaborations

  About the Author

  DEVELOPING HER CURVES

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 286

  FLORA FERRARI

  Copyright © 2022 by Flora Ferrari

  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.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  DEVELOPING HER CURVES

  Some people flip a coin or even a house or two for profit.

  I like to flip whole towns. It’s what I do. And it’s made me very, very rich but what good is money when you’re all alone?

  Sure I can buy anything I want, but what I really want doesn’t have a price tag.

  I’d never tell anyone, but I’d trade it all, every dime if I could just find the one.

  My queen to be by my side.

  The next town, the next project. It’ll be my last. Even though I’m in my prime, I’m done.

  I’ll take up golf or fishing, I guess, and just try to enjoy the rest of my years.

  Or so I thought.

  That was before I decided on a mini-vacation to the final project town.

  Before I saw her.

  Before I met her.

  The one.

  Could a younger girl like her really go for an older guy like me though?

  Can I really flip this town as well as her mind?

  The real question is will she want everything I have to give her?

  I’m not a one-night kind of guy, and everything on the table is a forever deal.

  From the moment I see her it’s more than just the town, I wanna flip.

  I wanna flip her onto her back, give her what I know we both need.

  And not just for one night, but forever.

  Our town from now on.

  Us.

  * Developing Her Curves is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Kyle

  “Well, this time I’m doing things a little differently. I need out of this office. Out of this damned building,” I explain.

  Telling myself really.

  The team of consultants, lawyers, and my regular staff all blink up at me from the long table.

  I need out of this suit.

  Into a big warm bed with someone, I can grab a hold of and never let go of for a week.

  And by a week I mean forever.

  They call it the long table, and not just because of its length.

  Mostly because at the main table in the meeting room I’ve got a reputation of keeping people back long after hours, going over every tiny detail of my real estate development projects.

  I don’t pay anyone by the hour.

  It’s a per-project fee, and if it takes all night to work on one thing, then it takes all fucking night.

  It’s not like I have anyone to go home to, is it?

  But that’s nobody else’s problem.

  None of their business either.

  I puff air out from my cheeks. Pointing a pistol finger and thumb at my go-to guy for new project material.

  “Rick. What’s simmering on the surface this quarter?” I ask, noticing his bashful look for the first time in the decade he’s worked for me.

  Not enough mojo in your latte this morning, Rick? What is it with these people today?

  Is it because it’s a Sunday, or is it that they can sense something’s different?

  “Rick?” I ask him again sharply. He clears his throat before opening a thin red folder.

  “Uh… Cherry,” he mumbles.

  “Excuse me?” I ask impatiently, leaning my big hands on the back of a thick office chair, making it creak.

  Pretending the name isn’t familiar to me.

  Even though I know full well what the next project’s all about, I’ve been doing my own research. Made sure I slid all the information right to my team weeks back without them knowing where it came from.

  “Cherry, Mr. Lundstrom. It’s a peek-a-boo town in what used to be farm country.”

  “And what is it now?” I ask knowingly, scanning the table, waiting for the well-rehearsed reply when a new project’s about to start.

  “It’s a Lundstrom town.” Everyone mumbles, with all the enthusiasm of a losing cheer squad about to face a firing squad.

  “I said, what is it now?” I ask again, raising my voice as I try to lift their spirits.

  “It’s a Lundstrom town!” Everybody says, playing along even though it’s probably only to shut me up.

  “That’s right,” I affirm, then figure it’s time to give them some actual good news.

  “Now, I didn’t drag you all in here on a Sunday just to hear your cheering voices,” I say. “But I will be taking a working break, taking on the final assessment before planning our next project on my own.”

  There are nervous murmurs from around the table.

  “Not only will you have me out of the office for a few days, but I’ll be doing all of the inspections myself, meaning a lot of you will have some spare time on your hands.

  A ripple of satisfaction from some folks at the long table cancels out any concerns.

  The world as it is today, folks are walking on eggshells every minute of the day, wondering if they’ll even have a job tomorrow.

  But Lundstrom is as safe as houses.

  Towns full of houses.

  Legal is poring over their own folders as I caution everyone that just because I won’t be here doesn’t mean they can slack off.

  “Two of you, you know who you are, will be reporting to me directly daily or as required. So no sitting around while I’m gone,” I warn everyone, noticing how they’re instantly suspicious of one another, even though there’s nobody really checking in.

  I just say things like that to make sure people focus on actual work instead of a working holiday when I’m gone.

  I want as f
ar away from this place as possible with as little interference as possible.

  My rehearsal vacation before the big one.

  A final little glimpse at the past, at how it all started for me before I hang it all up for good.

  I guess some people are born to succeed, but it doesn’t always mean they have everything.

  A wife, kids in the yard, and maybe even a dog or two?

  Not something everyone gets in this life automatically.

  Even though I buy and sell towns full of that kinda thing for a living it doesn’t mean I’ve found my own piece of it to keep.

  So why the secrets? Why Cherry of all places?

  Well, it sounds crazy but I had a hunch.

  A kind of intuition about the place when I was scanning the maps online for small country towns.

  Aside from the name, I got a gut feeling when I saw the place.

  And not the kind that makes me wanna bulldoze everything and start over.

  No.

  It was the kind of feeling that’s made me want to visit personally.

  And for some other reason, makes me feel like this is the last project for me as well.

  Maybe I really do just need a break, but there’s something in Cherry that’s calling for me.

  And there’s only one way to find out what it is.

  THE NEXT DAY

  There are emails in everyone’s inbox with their instructions while I’m away, and my little trip to Cherry has been smooth sailing so far.

  A rental car and even some second-hand clothes make me look and feel the part of an out-of-towner tourist driving solo cross-country.

  Cherry used to be a blink and you’ll miss it kind of town that grew a little over time, but went stagnated after the local mill closed down years back.

  It’s the perfect candidate for redeveloping. All the amenities are there. It’s just a matter of making it look nice again and pricing it accordingly.

  Expensive towns are better towns.

  Your million-dollar home is worth bragging about, but the aluminum siding and lean-to-looking shacks I saw online in Cherry aren’t.

  We’ll fix all that.

  It’s what we do at Lundstrom.

  A nineteen fifties style diner looms above the flat black ribbon of highway, welcoming me to Cherry as well as offering their famous Cherry pie.

  “Better start off on the right foot,” I murmur, my well-rehearsed smile lighting up the rearview as I wink at myself.

  Yeah.

  I’ve still got it.

  But before I can even smell the home country cooking, I have to swerve to miss driving right through the diner’s main window.

  Something’s done more than just caught my eye, she’s sent an electrical current straight to my cock.

  Cherry pie?

  I think I’m looking right at it.

  At her.

  I knew there was something about this town. I just knew it.

  And aside from making every head in the diner turn my way when I hit the brakes, skidding loudly.

  I’ve managed to catch the eye of the one person in town I’m suddenly the most interested in.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Jacinta

  “Just tell me you’ll at least think about it?” Melanie asks me, in that tone where I can just picture her puppy dog eyes and pout.

  The face my best friend makes when she asks me to do the impossible, but actually makes it sound like it could actually happen.

  Taking a breath in, I stop myself from groaning. “I have thought about it, Mel, and as much as I’d love to, I can't just pack up and fly to Italy right now.”

  Not like some people.

  “Maybe once Prince Charming comes along and sweeps me off my feet,” I quip. Trying to smile but it just won’t come.

  “For now though, I haven’t even unpacked my bags from college let alone thought about how I’m gonna get by.”

  As if on cue, my mom calls out from the kitchen. Reminding me that I have a ton of things to do today already.

  “I’m on the phone with Mel, Mom!” I shout back, covering the handset but I still manage to catch Mel’s sigh.

  “I guess I should go too,” Mel says when I put the phone back to my ear, sounding deflated.

  The sounds of a busy street, cars honking, and people talking in Italian filtering through the phone.

  We had three years together at college as besties as well as roomies, and now we’re on opposite sides of the world.

  Mel’s family is a little, okay, way better off but apart from that she got herself an IT job overseas before she even graduated.

  Brains and beauty. But her can-do attitude is what made things happen for her.

  And maybe her dad’s software business with European connections…

  Me?

  I got a degree in nautical archeology, and yeah I know what it means. My job prospects are nonexistent here in Cherry.

  But today I have laundry to fold and leftovers from the diner to reheat for lunch.

  Mom’s got her shift at the diner to get to and as far as life in a small town goes, it’s about three times slower than anywhere else in the world, it seems.

  “Talk soon?” I ask, hoping Mel will call me tomorrow.

  My cell credit ran out days ago, and I’m not exactly flush with cash right now.

  “You know I will. Love ya,” Mel chirps and says, “Ciao Bella!” in Italian, which sounds amazing to my ears.

  Even though I have no idea what it means I catch the feeling. Wishing more than ever I could have our recent college days together back again.

  “I’d give anything to get outta this town. Even though I just got back,” I mumble, heaving myself off my childhood bed.

  “What’s that?” Mom calls out again. “Jacinta! I have to go, are you even listening to me or not?”

  It feels like I never left.

  “Yeah, I heard you,” I call back but my words are cut off by the front door slamming. The sound of her car revving not long after.

  Then she’s gone. And I’m alone again.

  I hadn’t planned on it, but I find myself starting to cry once I reach the kitchen. Wondering if this is as good as my life gets.

  After folding the laundry I certainly don’t feel like hanging around the house.

  It’s too depressing.

  A walk through town sounds nice, but nowhere near the diner where my mom works sounds like a plan.

  Who knows? You might just bump into the man of your dreams.

  I laugh to myself, managing to cheer myself up. Even though it is through sarcasm.

  I need it too, after folding a closet full of my old clothes my mom washed for me, ready for when I got home from college. Clothes that I don’t fit into anymore but just haven’t got the heart to tell her.

  If she can’t see it for herself.

  That baby fat I’ve carried since I was a kid?

  I don’t know what you call it by the time you’re twenty-one.

  I just call it fat.

  But before I can even get out of the yard, my mom calls me. Asking me to drop her name tag and purse, which she’d forgotten.

  Looks like I’ll have to go to the diner after all.

  It’s not fair, and it means I can forget stressing about having to avoid the place.

  It’s silly, but I had one shift there before college and it didn’t end well.

  But I’ve had trouble showing my face there ever since, which is awkward seeing as my mom works there.

  And it looks like today is no different.

  Just as I’m approaching the diner, a car screeches to a halt behind me and my heart almost stops.

  Not from the sudden noise, but from every face at the diner window spinning in my direction.

  All eyes are on me.

  I feel like dying until I turn around, looking for who I should thank for bringing me so much unwanted attention down on me.

  But my heart gives out for a second time, and for a very different re
ason this time.

  I feel my lungs empty too, a kind of dry cough of disbelief rise up.

  Am I dreaming?

  Is this actually happening?

  The man who’s almost just run me down looks like he’s stepped straight off the cover of a magazine and into a rented hatchback.

  Sure, his driving sucks, and his huge body seems way too big for that tiny car, but his face.

  That smile.

  Those eyes.

  That huge body…

  Even from where I’m standing frozen, and long before he gets out of the car, I can see he’s built like something carved from marble.

  A living, flesh and blood statue from Ancient Greece or the Roman Empire.

  My eyes seem to stumble over which part of him I want to feast on first.

  His dark, intense gaze is zeroed in on me but his brilliant smile, tugged up at the corners of his mouth seems to brighten the dark, overcast day.

  The cold breeze whips at his thick, dark hair. A slight hint of silver at the temples telling me he’s not a boy.

  He’s all man, in case I was wondering.

  Mature. Confident.

  Powerfully strong in body and in mind.

  The low rumbling sound he makes reaches me. Filling my whole body from the ground up with intense heat.

  He clenches his chiseled jaw, scanning me up and down once he realizes what he almost just hit.

  His body language tells me he’s also a man who knows what he wants.

  And right now, I’m guessing he wants me out of the damned way.