Epilogue
ACE
Iparked the SUV outside the community center and shot a glance at Poppy sitting beside me, her hands nervously twisting together over her rounded belly.
She was nearing six months pregnant, glowing and so damn beautiful that it was almost painful to look at her without dragging her back home and into bed. Again.
“Do we really have to do this?” I asked. “I mean, breathing is something humans have managed pretty well for thousands of years. I’m pretty sure you don’t need a class for it.”
Poppy rolled her eyes, giving me a playful swat on my arm. “It’s not just about breathing, Colter. It’s about preparing for childbirth and being supportive.”
“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.
I lasted exactly eight seconds before Poppy’s shoulders began to subtly tremble, signaling her quiet laughter.
My lips curved slightly in response, and I leaned in, my voice low and teasing against her ear.
“If I breathe like that while you’re sitting in my lap, this class is about to turn into a very different kind of exercise. ”
Her suppressed laugh turned into an adorable snort, drawing curious glances from a few nearby couples. Even the instructor shot us a polite smile edged with mild exasperation, clearly warning us to behave. I tightened my arm around Poppy’s waist, trying to keep a straight face.
“Let’s focus, everyone,” the instructor called out.
Poppy tilted her face back slightly, a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. Her hand patted mine softly, her voice gentle but playful. “Try.”
I released an exaggerated sigh, but I couldn’t deny her anything.
I murmured near her ear, “In through the nose.” She obediently inhaled, her breathing slow and measured. “Out through the mouth.”
Her warm breath ghosted over my arm, sending a ripple of desire through my veins.
She shifted again, unintentionally—or maybe very intentionally—brushing herself more firmly against my already growing erection.
A sharp breath escaped me as I fought to keep my control, my fingers tightening instinctively against the soft curve of her belly.
I froze when the baby kicked firmly against my palm.
My eyes widened, my entire world pausing in surprise as I looked down at where my hand rested.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, awe and shock thickening my voice.
Poppy’s soft laughter filled the air as she turned her face slightly toward mine, her voice a tender whisper. “That’s your son saying hello.”
“Our kid just kicked my hand.”
“He does that when he hears your voice.”
The instructor was now explaining something about contraction timing, but I wasn’t hearing a word of it.
My gaze fixated on Poppy’s belly, wonder stirring deep within my chest as another tiny, determined kick pressed against my palm.
My throat tightened unexpectedly, emotion gathering like a storm beneath my carefully guarded control.
“That’s…weird,” I muttered, my voice a rough rasp.
She hesitated, glancing back at me with sudden uncertainty. “Good weird or bad weird?”
I drew a slow, steadying breath, my hand still cradling the curve of her stomach. I pressed a lingering kiss to her temple. “Good weird, baby. Really good.”
The instructor clapped again, breaking the moment as she announced the next exercise. “Okay! Now we’ll practice pressure support during contractions.”
I immediately leaned closer, brushing my lips against Poppy’s ear as I murmured, “If anyone here asks me to massage your hips in front of strangers, I’m going to lose it.”
She laughed again and turned her head, kissing my cheek gently. “Colter?”
“Yeah?”
“You realize you’re already doing the most important part, right?”
I arched a brow slightly, feeling both curious and cautious. “What’s that?”
She smiled softly, warmth radiating from her expression. “Showing up.”
I huffed quietly, my voice gruff as I muttered, “Baby, I showed up because if I didn’t, you’d let some idiot like that guy over there try to help you breathe.”
She relaxed back into me again, contentment radiating from her.
Surrounded by pastel-colored walls, yoga mats, and a room full of expectant dads who looked seconds away from fainting every time someone said “cervix,” realization crashed over me.
I’d fought wars for my club, handled millions of dollars without blinking, and buried enemies without losing sleep.
But holding Poppy, feeling our son kicking beneath my palm…
that was the most terrifying and best thing that had ever happened to me.
The instructor’s next words jolted me from my thoughts. “Partners, place your hands on the mother’s hips and apply firm pressure.”
Poppy glanced up at me, mischief dancing in her eyes. “You heard the lady.”
I stared down at her, desire already tightening my body. “If I start touching your hips like that, we’re not making it out of this room. Then I’ll have to kill people for hearing and seeing things that are only mine.”
I was only half joking, and she knew it. But she still giggled.
My hands tightened involuntarily on Poppy’s hips, heat streaking through my veins as I struggled not to picture her stretched out naked beneath me instead of sitting on this damn yoga mat.
She shifted subtly, pressing herself more firmly into the cradle of my body, and I gritted my teeth against a low groan threatening to escape.
Drawing a deep breath, I reluctantly followed the instructor’s gentle command and slowly pressed firm pressure against Poppy’s hips, feeling her muscles relax beneath my touch.
She leaned back into me, her hair brushing across my chest and filling my senses with the scent of coconut shampoo.
The gesture was innocent enough, but my body reacted immediately, and my jeans grew uncomfortably tight.
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling mischievously, clearly aware of the effect she was having on me.
“You good?” she asked, her voice pitched for my ears alone.
“You’re playing with fire, baby,” I warned under my breath, squeezing her hips gently in emphasis. My fingers flexed against her soft skin, making it clear exactly what kind of trouble she was causing.
Poppy’s lips curled into a teasing little smile, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Am I?”
“Keep it up, and I’ll drag you to the nearest empty room and show you.” I leaned down so my lips brushed the sensitive skin just behind her ear. She shivered lightly in response, a quiet gasp slipping from her lips.
From across the room, the instructor called out more directions in an almost musical tone, guiding couples through positions that seemed far too intimate for a public setting. Poppy shifted again, brushing the curve of her ass more firmly against my already straining erection.
“Fuck,” I hissed softly, my voice strained with the effort it took to stay in control. “You’re killing me here.”
Her laughter made my heart thump harder as she turned her head slightly to whisper, “Is it wrong I’m enjoying this so much?”
“Just remember, payback’s a bitch.” My tone was a low, heated promise. “Keep teasing me like this, and I won’t be responsible for what happens when we get home.”
She smiled sweetly, her cheeks flushed with color as she leaned her head back to rest against my shoulder. Her hand found mine where it rested on her hip, fingers entwining with mine, giving a gentle squeeze. The tender gesture nearly broke the last shreds of my control.
The instructor’s soothing voice brought me sharply back to reality as she guided everyone to relax again, murmuring about breathing patterns and positions to ease discomfort.
I forced my attention back to the class, mentally counting to ten and thinking about anything other than how perfect it would feel to lift Poppy into my arms, carry her from this place, and show her exactly how much I wanted her.
After another eternity, the instructor finally wrapped up the session, her cheerful voice cutting through the room.
Couples began to rise slowly, stretching and talking quietly among themselves.
I helped Poppy to her feet, my hands lingering possessively at her waist, and guided her toward the exit without another glance at the others.
She shot me a teasing look over her shoulder, laughter in her eyes. “You sure got quiet there at the end.”
“Trying not to embarrass us both by throwing you over my shoulder in front of all these people.” My voice was a rough rasp as we stepped outside into the evening air.
She laughed, turning in my arms to wrap her hands around the back of my neck. “Maybe I wouldn’t have minded.”
My gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes, burning with heat and promise.
“Good to know,” I growled, bending to brush a firm kiss against her mouth. “Because we’re sure as fuck not gonna make it home.”
She smiled against my lips, her voice barely more than a breath. “I was hoping you’d say that.”