Curly (Hell's Handlers MC Florida Chapter 1) - Page 43

“Thank you.” With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Nancy handed over the thing she called a bathing suit.

“I feel bad for David,” Brooke said as she examined the stretchy material. “You’re scary.”

“Don’t you forget it.” Nancy winked. “But I give a damn good BJ, so it all works out for him in the end.”

Barking out a laugh, Brooke shook her head. “Scary and crazy. I’m gonna put this on now before you come at me.”

“Good idea. I’ve already got mine on under this.” Nancy indicated her adorable white coverup dress. “I so need a day to lounge by the pool. Work has been beyond crazy lately, and I haven’t had a chance just to chill.”

“I hear that,” Brooke said as she walked into the bathroom. She shut the door and stripped out of her T-shirt and yoga pants. “What’s David up to today?” she called out.

“Golfing with the boys. Blech.”

Without peeking in the mirror, she finished undressing and stepped into the bathing suit bottoms. Huh, okay, they weren’t too bad. The waist came up pretty high, giving a slight flattening to her stomach pooch. Brooke ate pretty well, exercised, and didn’t hate her body. She just wasn’t twenty-five anymore, and it showed. Also, after years of being told she was always too heavy, followed by too masculine when she would ramp up her workouts, then disgusting and gaunt once she lost dropped some weight, having a positive body self-image wasn’t easy. Evan had found flaws in her figure no matter what she’d done or how hard she’d tried to earn his admiration, including sticking to his strict diet and exercise plans.

Nothing she’d done impressed Evan or met with his approval. Of course, now she knew it was more about his issues than how she looked or what she did, but the cutting words still played in her head now and again. He’d taken the most offense to any signs of aging. A wrinkle here or gray hair there would set him off on a tirade about how he’d shackled himself to a lazy wife who refused to care for her body and forced him to seek out other women.

A shudder ran through her. “That’s over,” she whispered. “Nothing he thought matters. Stop thinking about the loser.”

“You say something?” Nancy asked.

“Just talking to myself,” she called back as she tied the halter strap behind her neck.

“Talking about how hot you look?”

“Ha. You’re hilarious. Okay,” Brooke whispered to herself. “On three.” She counted in her head, blew out a breath, then turned to the mirror with a hand over her eyes. Then she counted to three again and spread her fingers.

Well, she looked…pretty good. She let her hand fall to her side. She had pretty good-sized boobs. A thirty-six C. Over the years, they’d begun their downward journey, but this suit gave her lift and cleavage. A lot of cleavage. And the high-waisted bottoms kept her abdomen smoothed out. Of course, the little bit of cellulite on her legs would show whether she wore a one or two-piece, so that was a sunken cost.

All right, this was passable, especially since it would only be her and Nancy lounging by her pool for the next few hours.

“Time’s up. Get that fine ass out here.”

Oh, her ass. She turned and craned her next to look at her bottom in the mirror. This bathing suit lifted everything. “Coming.”

She opened the door and stepped into her bedroom to a low whistle.

“Damn, Brooke. You are absolutely insane to put yourself down. You look amazing. I’d kill for those boobs. Look at these boor itty bitty titties,” she said, staring down at her small chest.

Nancy was crazy. She had a body women killed for. Or paid thousands and thousands of dollars to achieve artificially. “Okay, the rule for the day, no self-body-shaming. Out loud or in our heads.”

A smile broke out on Nancy’s face. “Done. Let’s get some drinks and soak up some harmful sun rays.”

Twenty minutes later, they were lounging on chaises beside Brooke’s pool. A small table between their chairs held a pitcher of margaritas as well as a bowl of chips and guac. Yes, I was only one in the afternoon, but it was a Saturday, and they deserved a treat.

“I’m pretty sure the only time I’m going to move for the next few hours is to flip over. Does it work for you if David swings by to pick me up at four when he’s done golfing?” Nancy wore a sunny yellow bikini with a much slinkier cut than Brooke’s. Round white sunglasses took up most of her flawless face as she lay on her back with her arms dangling off the sides of the chaise.

The sun warmed Brooke’s skin and relaxed her muscles to a state of drowsy bliss. Moving seemed a monumental and unnecessary task. “Yeah, that’s perfect. I’ve got someone swinging by at six to adopt one of the dogs, so that’ll give me time to get everything ready for him.” Speaking of the dogs, her crew was scampering around the yard playing with each other and generally having a fantastic day. Ray supervised the other pooches from a shady spot beneath the covered area she’d had built for the dogs to escape the brutal summer sun. She’d turned on a sprinkler, and the water-loving pups ran around in the spray, happy as could be.

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