Page 57 of Riding Bare

His hand slides up the center of my back, tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck, then he tugs it back slightly, forcing me to look into his eyes. His lips twitch into a smirk, and he clears his throat.

“There is going to be a war.”

I try to jerk away from him, but he doesn’t let me. His fingers tighten, pulling my hair so hard that my scalp hurts. I open my mouth to speak, but he shakes his head a couple of times, effectively shutting me up.

“I’m not fucking around, sweetheart. Not with you. Not with our family.”

“No,” I hiss. “People die in war, Amos. No.”

His lips twitch into a smirk. “You think I’m stupid?” I start to answer him, but I don’t think he’d like the answer. Because if he’s openly going to war with the Perov Bratva, I think he actually might be stupid.

Although, what does that make me?

I offered to do anything, an open-ended offer with zero stipulations.

I can’t judge any of his decisions, because I’ve probably made a worse one by going to Samuil. This is the perfect opportunity to tell him.

But I don’t.

I can’t.

The words don’t form. Instead, I just stare at him and hope that he doesn’t think to ask me anything about it. I won’t be able to lie, but maybe I can just get this figured out and handled without him ever knowing.

“Nothing is going to happen,” he announces. “I swear that shit to the depths of my fucking soul, sweetheart.”

I want to believe him. “How?”

Anxiety consumes me at the thought of something happening to him. I haven’t even told him how I feel about him yet. I can’t imagine Amos dying without me telling him that I love him, but I’m not ready to say it yet—so I’m not ready for him to die.

“I got this handled, Skel.”

He lifts his head, touches his lips to mine, and then he releases me. He throws his legs over the side of the bed, sits up, stands, and then stretches, as if he doesn’t have a care in the whole world.

As if he hasn’t just announced that he’s going to start some kind of war with the Perov Bratva. I don’t know much about them, but what I do know is that they’re ruthless. I know they work together, but I can only imagine that with that relationship, if Amos does anything they perceive as betrayal, they will not stop until we’re crushed into dust.

Amos walks into the bathroom. I hear the shower turn on, and then, what feels like only moments later, turn off again, and he appears with a towel wrapped around his waist. My mouth waters at the sight of him, damp and naked. At least I know he’s naked beneath the towel. And I know he’s gorgeous.

He reaches for the dresser drawer, tugs it open, and takes out a pair of underwear. He pulls them up his legs, then takes his towel off, unfortunately, and tugs on a T-shirt, then his jeans. He’s barefoot as he moves around the room.

“I think your brother is outside. I’m going to check, then make you some breakfast. You hungry?”

Swoon. Absolute swoon. Food and my brother. I don’t know how this life could get better. He walks toward the door, stopping before he turns his head over his shoulder. His gaze finds mine.

“Starving,” I exhale.

His lips twitch into a smirk. “Sweetheart,” he rasps, “you keep looking at me that way, I’m going to have to take my clothes off and slide back into bed.”

“And this is a bad thing?”

He chuckles before he speaks. “I have some shit to handle. We just talked about it.”

We did, and I would rather he do anything else. I don’t want a war. I don’t want any part of a war. I just want to have this baby and live my life in happiness and peace, but I know that doesn’t come cheap.

I’m going to have to try and figure this out without Amos discovering anything. I don’t know if that’s possible, but I’m going to try. I chew on my bottom lip and wonder if Gauge will help me in secret. I hope he will, because now that he’s here and keeping tabs on me, he’s my only hope for that.

“Then yes, I would love some breakfast,” I say, then curve my lips up into a smile.

If he notices my fib, he doesn’t call me on it. I don’t want breakfast as much as I want to have a conversation with my brother about Samuil. I don’t say that, though, because I don’t want Amos to know a damn thing.