Mason gave a quick wave through the glass that separated the outdoor yoga studio from the spa. He’d finished his last appointment and was closing up, as they were just getting started.
With the sun setting over the trees, creating a deep topaz glow over the lake, it was easy to get lost in the comfort of nature. The mountains rose up in the background, their trees sparse from winter but preparing to bloom. When they were full of leaves, the mountain would look like it was covered in green shag carpet. Bad if you put that in your house, but lovely rolling down the side of a mountain.
The Ouachitas were beautiful. They were home. And no matter what, it had to stay that way.
Bailey stretched into a new position.
Yoga was the one form of exercise she truly enjoyed. Mostly because anyone could do it. Doc liked to say Yoga was for every body and everybody. And it was true. As was evidenced by their little group. Lithe like Doc and Layna. Curvaceous and petite like Clara. Buxom and tall like Bailey. Or pregnant like Josie and Bethany.
Bailey might be on the fluffy side of perfect, but she could downward dog and crow pose with the best of ‘em.
They went through a short sequence to loosen up and shed the tension they’d accumulated throughout the day before moving on to some more advanced poses. This was Bailey’s favorite part, when she got to test herself.
“How are we feeling, ladies?” Doc asked, easily moving into a dolphin pose.
“Much…” Layna inhaled slowly, and then exhaled. “Better.”
Clara’s lilting voice floated over on the breeze. “Agreed. This was a good idea, Doc.”
Bailey stared at Josie from between her own legs. The human-turned-cougar shifter was almost six months along and her belly was starting to swell. She looked cute as anything, but the C word was off limits. She preferred to be called prego-chic. And she was always asking them if she was waddling or not. The answer was not, but she was paranoid.
Bailey grinned. She wouldn’t mind the waddling if she had a young growing inside her. She’d waddle with pride.
Mama used to say it would never happen for her. That she wasn’t the kind of female any male would want to build a streak with. And Gash had said he didn’t want young to father. Another reason she needed to think carefully before mating him. Because Bailey definitely wanted to be a mother. She’d be nothing like the female she was born to.
She came out of her pose and lifted one foot high in the air, her eyes catching on the other pregnant mate.
She’d be like Bethany. The female was patient with her son, Rhys. And kind, yet stern when she needed to be. She didn’t mock him when he failed, and she never threatened to leave him out on his own if he didn’t attract a mate. Of course, he was only three. But Bailey knew it would be the same when he was twenty.
Rhys wouldn’t find himself out on the streets alone, like she had.
“Bai, you okay there?” Doc asked, her voice slow and calm like the tinkling music that played over the speaker.
“Sure. Why?”
“Your cat was growling,” Josie answered.
“Oh. Sorry.”
Bailey went back to the prayer position to center herself. Breathe stress out, breathe life in.
She didn’t need to think of her mama. Not when she had so many people in her corner now. Any one of these females would have her back, and already had at some point over the years. Even Clara, who she’d only met six months ago. These were her family now. Her streak. And it was all she needed.
And mate, her tiger piped up. Need him. He’s mine.
“Alright, ladies. Let kick things up a notch for our Bailey-girl. She needs the challenge.”
“I’m in,” Clara murmured.
“Me too,” Josie added.
“Ditto,” Bethany breathed.
“Fuck yeah.” Layna. She was the only person alive who could make ‘fuck’ sound like a prayer.
Doc took them through a sequence of poses. This time, difficult enough Bailey had to focus to hold them. It was just the distraction she needed. When her mind was tuned with her body in order to carry out a headstand, there was no room for worry or awful memories of the past.
Minutes ticked by and the sun sank lower, but Bailey had found her calm. Right there, with her friends, who would never throw her to the wolves. Literally or figuratively.
Namaste.
***
Gash stared through the wall-sized glass window, struggling for breath and a way to hide his raging hard-on. Holy hot mother of fuck. He was done for.
His day was busy, getting the bears up to speed on security protocols and familiarizing them with the lodge. Not to mention they each wanted a cave on the property, and one of the only two in existence was somewhat occupied. Clara used to live in it before she’d mated Eagan, and now it held some special significance or something. They wouldn’t let anyone near it without a fight.