Chapter 1

Lukas Price was not the type of man to leave work for his lunch break. At least, not usually. But today, a freak scheduling mishap—a canceled investor call and a broken espresso machine—forced him home at one in the afternoon with one of those grab-and-go bistro salad kits and an intention to answer as many emails as he could in peace before having to return to the office for the next round of meetings.

The townhouse he shared with his wife was oddly quiet at the bright hour. “Mandy?” he called through the house. “Amanda?” But there was no response. Weird…what could she have been doing? She had a book club in the afternoon…but that was only on Tuesdays, and it was Friday (and thank God). Besides, her car was still in the driveway. Maybe a friend had picked her up for margaritas and nachos?

He called her phone. It vibrated on the kitchen counter. Okay, so she wasn’t out, otherwise she’d have taken it with her.

He wandered the house looking for her–well, for her, and for signs of a break-in. If something had happened to her…

Relief washed over him as he found her in the bedroom, taking a mid-day nap.

Of course she hadn’t heard him call out. He’d always said to himself that that woman could snooze through the Fourth of July fireworks.

She was curled on her side like a sleepy queen in exile, buried under a fortress of throw pillows with her limbs wrapped around an even bigger pile of them, having wrapped the latter pile up in their softest blanket. It was like she’d assembled every pillow in the house just for this small luxury. Her hair spilled messily around her face, and her lips, parted slightly in sleep, twitched every now and then as if caught in some private reverie.

Lukas was about to tiptoe back out when he heard her sigh.

“Mmm… Luke…”

He froze.

“…So plump and gorgeous now… my big, handsome man…”

His heart skipped a beat.

Plump?

PLUMP?

He stared at her, stunned. She gave a tiny, contented snore, nuzzling into the stack of pillows he now understood she’d meant as a stand-in for him. Heat rushed to his ears. Lukas had been rail-thin his entire life. But now…now it seemed Mandy had a preference he’d never even suspected.

He waited until she stirred, blinking herself awake with a little murmur of confusion.

“Oh,” she said, seeing him. “You're home early.”

He smiled. “Just for lunch. Say…that’s a lot of pillows you’ve got there.”

“It’s kind of my afternoon ritual,” she said. “It helps me fall asleep faster if I’m all bundled up in soft, warm stuff.”

“I see,” he said. “Do you always cuddle them up and call them your ‘plump, gorgeous man’?”

Her eyes went wide. She sat up abruptly, propping herself against the headboard. “I–I talk in my–?”

“Forgive me for lingering to watch, but can you blame me? It was fascinating.”

Her face went crimson. “Oh my god. It’s not what it must have sounded like–”

“It’s okay, Mandy, I’m not upset,” he said, taking a seat on the bed next to her. “It just sounded to me like you’d like to have a heftier husband.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it, I just… didn’t know how to bring it up. I love you exactly the way you are. I didn’t want to—pressure you, or make you think you needed to change.”

He reached over to grasp her hand. “And if I wanted to change, that wouldn’t be a problem?”

Her mouth opened slightly. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” he murmured, “that if you wanted me to put on some weight…”

She stared at him, wonderstruck. “You’d do that? For me? You–? Wait. N-no. I COULDN’T let you do that, just because I have some dumb recurring dream.”

“Is it a dream?” asked Luke. “Or a kink?”

“Well I…well, I…” Mandy sat up, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and stared diligently at the carpet between her socked feet.

“I think it might be fun,” said Luke. grinning. “But only if you promise to keep calling me gorgeous. And I do mean me, not the pillows.”

***

Luke knew it sounded crazy to embark on a journey of weight gain just to make Mandy happy…which is why he wouldn’t tell anybody about it. Nobody that he knew in person, anyway. But it didn’t feel crazy to him.

Here was the thing: he’d always seen himself as a provider first, and an achiever second. From the moment he’d met Mandy, he’d known he had to sweep her off her feet. Everything he’d done had been for her. He’d excelled at Yale and launched himself into a high-powered career so that she could entertain a social life and never have to work. He took her out to shows and fancy bars not to flaunt her as a prize, but because he lived for the sparkle that reached her eyes when she was out doing something fun. And his attention to his fitness and diet had always been less about personal vanity, but the assumption that that was what would please her in a lover.

But here was the thing about assuming: sometimes, you were wrong.

And here was the other thing: getting Mandy off got him off.

What surprised him most about their new ‘project’ was how it had Mandy taking on the role of caretaker, instead of the other way around.

She started keeping the pantry and fridge full of snack cakes, rich spreads, and full-fat everything. Used to be, he would bring her her dinner as she sat in front of the TV, along with a glass of wine, and bent down to rub her feet. But now? Now, he’d taken her place before the screen. She brought him his meal and his beer, before nestling close to rub his belly, offering kisses and praise as it filled and swelled under her attentive hand.

Of course, there were setbacks. His metabolism fought back, but with her constant encouragement, she helped him win. His appetite started small, but with Mandy as his steadfast cheerleader, he nurtured it until it could handle the multiple-course meals she served him with lustful delight.

And in time, his familiar habits crumbled entirely in the wake of his new ones.

He wanted snacks and desserts now. He called Mandy from across the townhouse to fetch him something to quell his hunger, and she was always enthusiastic. When they went out to restaurants, he relished the longing look she gave him across the table as he perused the dessert menu, even if his coworkers and her friends were there. He still wasn’t saying anything about it, and nobody else did, either, but he knew he was catching stares. Those were the nights when he’d haul Mandy to bed as soon as they got home, both of them finishing in frantic, desperate unison while he pressed her into the mattress under his stuffed stomach.

And sometimes, when he was tired and full but determined, she would feed him spoonfuls of pasta off her plate or bites of cake she’d just baked, her eyes gleaming with every bite he accepted for her sake.

The first time he couldn’t button a shirt he’d worn for years, she looked like she might cream herself on the spot.

And the first time he caught himself admiring the extra softness at his midsection in the mirror with genuine satisfaction, he realized something else.

He’d never felt so damn sexy.

It wasn’t just about Mandy anymore, even if every inch he gained was a love letter to her written on his body. Somewhere along the line, she’d taught him how to read them, too.

“I didn’t know it could feel like this,” he whispered one night as she curled against him, her hand kneading the speedbump of softness that had accumulated under his wider, deeper navel.

“Like what?” she asked sleepily.

“Like…a dream come true.”