Moore To Love (37 page)

“You do know that had we met all those years ago we’d both be larger than life, and not in a good way. I’m a pretty bad influence when it comes to food.”

Lane laughs through his nose and then licks his lips as he brushes a strand of hair off my face. “You’re nothing but an amazing influence, Leni. You fill me with a happiness I never thought I’d find.”

It seems so simple when he says it that way, but on paper I still feel like we’re the mismatched couple of the century. “But you’re so healthy and fit, and from the outside you’d never know you used to be heavy. I still can’t wrap my head around why you want to be with me. Don’t you think you can do better?”

With a strong grip on my shoulders, Lane stares into my eyes with purpose. “I can’t possibly do better when I already have the best. When I look at you, I see a gorgeous, funny, talented woman with a heart of gold and the purest of love to give. And no matter what you believe, I never settled when it came to you. You’re crazy to ever think I could love you by default.”

This erases any doubts I once had but also makes me feel terrible for running away when he needed me most. “I’m so sorry I dredged up old hurts. My reaction was callous and I’ll never forgive myself for walking out on you the way I did. I have a tendency to blame my weight on everything that goes wrong in my life, if you haven’t noticed that yet.”

Lane shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “That needs to stop. Now. I can’t have my girlfriend thinking of herself as anything other than the knockout she is. I say we chalk this whole thing up to one big misunderstanding and forget it ever happened. I’m ready to leave the past where it belongs and move on. What do you think?”

What do I think?
I think I’m getting off too easy, but mama didn’t raise no fool. I’ll take it! “I think that sounds even better than McDonald’s announcing their all-day breakfast menu.”

“That good, huh?” Lane laughs, pulling me against him. “Can you promise me something?”

“Anything,” I say, certain that no request from Lane is too much to fulfill.

“No more lies. No more secrets. And definitely no more of that
I’m not good enough for you
crap. You could never be someone’s consolation prize, babe. You’re the first place trophy. Every, single bit of you.”

The meaning behind that is not lost on me, especially when his hand travels down the curve of my spine and grabs a big chunk of my booty.

“All of me, huh? You sure about that? I have a tendency to teeter back and forth more than Oprah did in the 90’s.”

“I’m positive.” He smiles. “You’re stronger than your insecurities, Leni. I guess that’s something we both have to keep reminding each other.”

Well, I’ll be.
“Did Ashley get to you with her Joel Osteen obsession?”

“Joel who?”

“Never mind.” I smack a kiss on his delectable lips and let my cares evaporate into nothingness as two lost souls get lost in each other. I don’t care if it’s divine intervention or Mercury in retrograde, Lane plus me equals perfection.

A knock on the door disrupts our reunion, forcing me to remember where we are. “Who is it?” I call out as Lane wipes away any evidence from my lips.

“It’s Mr. and Mrs. Moore. Can we come in?” Hearing Ashley announce it that way brings this whole wonderful day into perspective.

“Just a minute,” I answer, looking at Lane.

“I guess we should let them in. It is
their
wedding, after all.” Lane flashes his dimples and straightens his very dapper bow tie. I could just eat him up.
Famous last words for a chubby chick.

“Yeah. I guess we should, even if I’d totally blow this taco stand in a heartbeat to finally be alone with you again.”

Lane sweetly pecks the tip of my nose. “Leni, we have the rest of our lives to spend together. Tonight we celebrate the beginning of
their
happily ever after.”

My eyes light up and my heart somersaults in my chest at the sound of his charming implication. “Are you insinuating that you and I will get a happily ever after, too?”

“When you spend a lifetime hoping to feel half of what I feel for you, you kind of know when it’s the real deal. I can’t promise perfection, and we certainly know a lot about imperfections, but baby, you’re worth the wait.”

I nuzzle against Lane and the warmth of our blossoming love surrounds me. “Hey. Was that a fat pun?”

“Huh. I didn’t think of it that way, but yeah, sure. That weight, too.”

Lane stands to open the door and takes my hand in his. “Hey, maybe we should pay a visit to that tree tomorrow. Carve
Leni and Lane forever
in it, or something.”

“I’m down for that. It’s a special tree, isn’t it?”

“The special-est. And it’s ours.” I tighten my grip around his hand and pull him close.

“And you’re mine.”

“You bet your cute ass I am. Every single inch of me.”

One Year Later

IF YOU’RE LOOKING FOR THE
part where Lane proposed, we got married, had two point five kids, rescued a Golden Retriever on doggie death row, and I lost fifty pounds . . . keep looking, honey. It ain’t here.

Since the night of my brother’s wedding, everything pretty much stayed the same. Well, for me, at least.

Ashley and Reynold bought a beautiful home in New Jersey. My parents followed shortly after, settling two towns over in a fifty-five and over development when they found out they’d soon be grandparents to the second coming of Christ. Tatum and I nicknamed my unborn niece or nephew that when Rey and my overbearing mother went absolutely overboard with anything having to do with the baby. In fact, Tatum shouldn’t talk because shortly after she started dating Hudson, she convinced him to pull some of his multi-million-dollar land development strings to erect a state-of-the art playground and custom treehouse on the four acres of land surrounding my brother’s new mini-mansion. The kid isn’t even born yet and it already needs for nothing. Uncle Lane and I plan on spoiling the kid rotten, too.

After we said our I love yous and put the past behind us, Lane and I continued to get to know each other, flaws and all, and my weight yo-yoed back and forth so much it gave me whiplash. Turns out, when a woman is truly happy and in love, she tends to eat more, work out less, and pack on a few extra pounds. Whatevs. It’s all good because it also turns out that when a woman is truly happy and in love, none of those things mean diddly squat.

Not to worry, though, I haven’t completely gone to hell in a hand basket with my old habits. I’ve managed to make Jane and Mandy a permanent fixture in my life, even if they’ve given up on me at least twenty times in the last year. Those two charge a pretty penny for their notorious training sessions. I’d like to think I’m getting my money’s worth by giving them a run for it.

And speaking of running, Lane and I still do it often. In fact, after we moved in together and I got used to his haphazard schedule at the hospital, we decided to dedicate at least three mornings a week to the place where we first met and collided head on with our beautiful fate.

“Hey! Someone else carved their names on
our
tree!” Two days ago, Lane + Leni 4ever inside an oversized heart was the only thing marring the bark of the tree where it all began.

I rush over to the tree and Lane follows. Together, we trace the outline of the newly carved names.

“Huh. Looks like we have to share with Stella and Jack now.”

“I don’t like sharing. You know that.”

“You don’t like sharing your food, but you never said anything about not wanting to share your good fortune.”

“Listen, Mr. Optimistic, I get what you’re trying to say, but this is
our
special tree. No one else’s. I was hoping you’d ask me to be your wife under it one day. And then we’d bring our kids here once in a while to tell them all about how Mommy and Daddy fell in love over a concussion. And to take the dream even further, they’d continue the Sheffield tradition by bringing their special someone here and carving
their
names in it when the time was right. But now this Stella and Jack went ahead and—I don’t know—cheapened it all up.”

“Babe, that’s all really sweet and I can make every one of those wishes come true, but there is nothing cheap about what we got.” Lane wraps his arms around me and presses his sweaty torso against my even sweatier back.

I do have to give it to him there. Cheap is no longer a part of our vocabulary. Ever since Siobhan called on me to be
the
top model for the plus-sized collection that’s taking the fashion world by the balls, let’s just say . . . life is sweet. Like warm chocolate lava cake topped with rocky road ice cream sweet. Who would’ve ever imagined my big ass would be my biggest asset? I guess being skinny isn’t always how the better half live.

I lean into Lane’s embrace and surrender to the calming effect he will forever bewitch me with. Even on days when I feel down on myself for giving up on the weight loss goal that once dictated my every breath, Lane is sure to remind me that we have each other and everything else is an extra helping we weren’t banking on.

Pulling me back onto the track by the arm, Lane starts to jog in place. “You have time for one more lap or does Raven need you again today?” I still moonlight at the studio whenever Raven asks because makeup will always and forever be my true passion. Something about giving women the gift of beauty empowers me and I never plan on letting go of that ego boost.

I join Lane in a steady trot past our tree, and tell him my plans for the day. “Nope. No work today. I arranged it that way. After our run, some breakfast, and a nice long shower, I was hoping we could spend some quality time together—tangled in the sheets.”

“Oh, that sounds like the perfect way to waste the day away.”

“Waste not, want not.” I giggle.

“You sound more and more like Confucius every day, Leni. Do I need to hide your Joel Osteen books from you again?”

“Bullshit! You mean, do you need to hoard them for yourself again?”

“What? Can you blame me? The dude knows his shit.”

“That he does,” I agree. I can’t call myself a believer in faith, but I am most certainly a believer in love. “After all, even though I have you, he taught me to love myself and the rest will follow.”

“Smart guy, that Joel. If we ever get to meet him, remind me to thank him for knocking some sense into my stubborn girlfriend.”

“Babe, you’re the stubborn one. Stop giving him all the credit and own it. If it weren’t for you I’d still be a mopey, overweight makeup artist, dreaming her life away.”

Lane flashes me that look—the glare that silently warns me to shut my trap and accept that to him I’m the
perfect
size. “Madeline Moore, don’t make me tell you again.”

“Ah, come on. I like hearing you say it.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“You bring out the best in me. Now, say it.”

“Fine,” he huffs, although I know he loves his corny catch phrase as much as I do.

I bite my lower lip at the sight of his dimples, feeling like the luckiest chick on the planet.

Out of breath from the pace, the bright morning sun glistening off the perspiration on his forehead, Lane clears his throat as if he’s about to take center stage. Kind of fitting since the moment I laid eyes on him, he took center stage of my heart. “God made you this way so I’d have more of you to love. There. You happy?”

Happy is an understatement, but he already knows that. “Happier than a fat kid with a Twinkie.”

The End