Page 27 of Riding Bare

Wordlessly, I turn my head and try my hardest to ignore her existence. As much as I want to continue the confrontation with her, I know it’s what she wants, and I refuse to give her what she wants in any way, especially my husband.

More specifically, since I’ve now had my husband. She, along with any of the others, will never touch him again, not if I have anything to say about it.

When I left the house earlier, I felt pretty in my new clothes. Confident. Cute. Now, seeing her, even just for a moment, my confidence is wavering. My body is not the same as it was even a month ago, and I have a feeling it never will be again.

I’m wearing a medium-brown T-shirt dress that hits a few inches above my knees. It hugs my body, every new round part of it, and Amos made sure to tell me more than once how sexy it was, even though I didn’t pair it with sexy shoes.

I didn’t bring anything sexy here. I left everything like that behind in boxes, and I’m wearing a pair of flat sandals.

Comfort over style right now.

I’m not sure I’ll ever go back to high heels or the corporate world in which I wore them. I don’t know what is going to await me career-wise, but until whatever this is with Samuil is done, I’m going to focus on keeping myself and this baby safe.

The newest snake bitch, the replacement snake bitch, I guess, clears her throat behind me. I continue to ignore her. I don’t like that she’s so close, but I refuse to give in to her, even for my own curiosity’s sake.

Moving toward the bar, I figure the prospect of a bartender tending it will be enough of a deterrent that she’ll slither back into her den.

“What can I get you?” the prospect asks.

I smile, wondering if he’s ever served a pregnant woman in his life. “Just a water, if you have one.”

He smirks, dips down, and then produces an ice-cold bottle of water from somewhere beneath the counter. He slides it across to me and leans forward, his dancing eyes focused on mine.

“That woman is staring daggers at you, but you already know that, don’t you?”

“What woman?” I ask.

He lets out a chuckle. “Yeah, you know that. Nice.”

As soon as he says that, light spills into the bar area, so bright that I have to close my eyes slightly just to make out the three bodies that walk through the door: two women and one man. I watch as they move farther into the space and then stop.

The door closes, and Elodie, Juliette, and Alex walk into the bar carrying trays of what I assume is food.

“Who’s hungry?” Elodie calls out.

I don’t know them very well, having only been introduced to them once for a brief moment. I do know that Alex and Elodie own a cleaning business and clean the clubhouse along with some other businesses and houses. I think Juliette might work for them, but I’m unsure.

Trembling, I lift my bottle of water to my lips and take a long pull. I don’t slide off the stool yet. I know I should. Instead, I watch as they begin to move tables around, and only when they are almost finished do I gather enough courage to slide off the stool and stand.

On shaky legs, I make my way toward them. One step at a time. My entire body continues to tremble as I approach them. If this were work, I would be fearless. If I were the woman I was months ago, I would probably be more than outgoing and introduce myself.

But this baby, this marriage, the uncertainty of the future… the isolation, it has me feeling like a scared rabbit—self-conscious and far too nervous for my own good. I suck in a breath, holding it for a moment before I let it out slowly.

“Hey,” I call out.

Elodie moves toward me, not stopping until she’s closed the distance between us and her arms are around me. I lift mine as well, still shaky and trembling.

“I’m so glad you’re here and we get to hang out,” she murmurs before she releases me, taking a step backward, and then Alex wraps his arm around me in a hug, followed by Juliette.

“Okay,” Elodie announces.

At the same time, Alex claps his hands together, but he’s the next one to speak. “Let’s get this food set up, because when those boys walk out of that room, they are going to be hungry as fuck.”

He’s right. They probably will. I know my brothers. They heard there was going to be a BBQ, and they probably didn’t eat before they came, which means they’re going to absolutely demolish everything in sight. Then they’ll drink and start looking for some other way to spend their time, which is usually my cue to get the hell out.

“Alrighty, tell me how I can help,” I offer.

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