“I’m supportive,” I muttered, reaching over and squeezing her thigh gently. A cocky grin curved my lips, and I winked. “And trust me, I know how to help you breathe.”
Her cheeks flushed bright pink, and she bit her lip, clearly fighting a smile. “Behave. We’re in public.”
“Barely.” I glanced around the mostly deserted parking lot and sighed. “All right. Let’s get this over with. But if it gets weird, I reserve the right to walk us the fuck out.”
She laughed, her voice a sweet melody that warmed my chest as I helped her out of the vehicle. She smoothed the soft cotton dress over her growing bump, the simple teal fabric hugging her curves in a way that made my mouth go dry. I placed a hand possessively on her lower back, guiding her toward the entrance.
Inside the community center, we were directed to a brightly lit room filled with expectant couples, yoga mats, and pastel-colored birthing balls. Poppy’s grip on my hand tightened slightly, nerves flashing in her hazel eyes as we found an open spot. I set down our mat and watched as she sank gracefully onto it, her legs tucked beneath her. I joined her, leaning back on my palms and scanning the room with a mixture of curiosity and mild dread.
“Colter, relax,” she whispered, her lips twitching with amusement as she placed a gentle hand on my thigh. “You look like you’d rather be anywhere but here.”
“There is definitely somewhere else I’d rather be right now, baby. But I’d do anything for you. Including”—I eyed the cheerful instructor setting up her demonstration doll at the front of the class—“learning how to breathe.”
Before she could respond, a guy sitting on the mat next to us turned, his gaze dropping appreciatively over Poppy before he flashed a toothy smile. “Hey there. First class?”
Poppy smiled warmly. “Yeah. I’m a little nervous.”
He chuckled, shifting closer. “Don’t worry, I can give you some pointers. This is our third session.”
I felt a muscle in my jaw tick, my entire body tensing. My eyes locked onto the asshole who’d dared to speak to my woman, my protective instincts flaring to life with a rush of possessive heat. I shifted slightly closer to Poppy, draping an arm firmly around her shoulders and pulling her snugly into my side.
“That’s nice.” I met the guy’s startled gaze head-on. “But we’re good. Maybe you should focus on your own wife.”
He blinked, then his eyes dropped to my cut before he visibly swallowed as he realized his mistake. He muttered a quick apology and abruptly turned away.
Poppy giggled softly, nudging me gently. “That was a bit intense, don’t you think?”
I glanced down at her, my thumb brushing possessively against her shoulder. “You’re mine, baby. Nobody else needs to be giving you pointers.”
Her cheeks flushed deeper, and she leaned closer, resting her head against my shoulder as the instructor called the class to order. “You really don’t do subtle, do you?”
“Nope.” I pressed a kiss to her temple. “Especially not when it comes to you.”
She sighed, relaxing into my hold as we settled in for whatever the hell was about to come next.
The instructor clapped her hands with an overly cheerful enthusiasm, instantly commanding the attention of every expectant couple scattered across the room. Draped in a long, flowy cardigan in soft pastel shades, and speaking in a tranquil tone that suggested nothing had ever ruffled her composure, she was the very picture of Zen. I narrowed my eyes subtly, inherently distrustful of anyone who relaxed.
“Welcome, everyone,” she began warmly, her smile serene as she glanced around the group. “Tonight we’re going to practice breathing techniques and labor support positions.”
At her words, Poppy shifted subtly against my side, and I immediately sensed the tension slipping into her posture. I tightened my arm around her shoulders and brushed a soft kiss against her temple, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo.
“Baby, if they expect me to start doing yoga, we’re leaving,” I teased.
Her lips twitched, suppressing the laughter that sparkled in her beautiful hazel eyes. She tilted her face toward me, whispering softly, “You promised to behave.”
“I promised to try,” I corrected, my mouth quirking into a crooked smirk as she shook her head, amusement radiating off her. The moment between us was interrupted as the instructor continued, guiding everyone with soft commands about dilation, contractions, and some concerning mentions of “partner participation,” which made suspicion creep over my skin.
Moments later, she gestured toward us all, her voice annoyingly gentle. “Okay! Let’s have the partners move behind the mothers so you can support them through breathing exercises.”
I groaned inwardly but complied, shifting behind Poppy and settling myself onto the mat. The position naturally guided her back against my chest, my legs bracketing her hips, her warm body nestled perfectly against mine. My heart thumped a little faster when my arms came around her belly, anchoring her against me. Her hand moved automatically to rest atop mine, and a surge of possessiveness swept through me, tightening my grip just slightly.
“You comfortable?” I asked softly, brushing my thumb absently over the curve of her belly.
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured contentedly, relaxing further into my embrace, making my pulse quicken at her simple trust.
At the front of the room, the instructor demonstrated a slow, controlled breathing rhythm, her voice soft and melodic as she guided the class. “In through the nose…out through the mouth.”
Everyone began breathing in unison, making me feel more irritated than relaxed.
