Home > Raspberry Tart Terror (Murder in the Mix #30)(18)

Raspberry Tart Terror (Murder in the Mix #30)(18)
Author: Addison Moore

He closes his eyes a moment. “Trust me, with my family’s genetics on board, having supernatural abilities will be the least of its worries.”

“Hear, hear.”

“Besides”—he gives my shoulders a quick rub—“Everett’s got his own worrisome quirks.”

“Oh? Like what?” I don’t even bother to hide the amused smile budding on my lips.

“The guy used to sleepwalk as a kid. He’d hit the fridge at all hours of the night and spill milk all over the counter. Eliza hated it. She even took him to see a shrink to see if they could fix him. But they didn’t. He was still at it when Alex and I moved in. He’d do all kinds of nutty things. He used to turn on the shower at three in the morning and then head back to bed. If this kid is Everett’s, it could really do a number on your water bill.”

A laugh bubbles from me. “Duly noted. I’ll have to put a baby lock on all the shower doors.”

“For the next eighteen years,” he teases.

Serena gives that whistle around her neck a shrill blow. “Welcome one and all to the class that will prepare you for the transition to parenthood. Coaches, I’d like for you to sit behind our mamas-to-be and allow them to lean against you. And please try to abstain from any hanky-panky while you’re with us.” A warm round of laughter circles the room as the coaches all get into position.

Noah wraps his arms around me from behind, and I can feel his warm breath over my hair as I lean against him. Everything has always been so natural between Noah and me.

“We’ve got this, Lot,” he whispers with his lips right over my ear, and a shiver runs through me. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

I nod up at him as a flood of emotions hits me.

God forbid Everett ends up doing time for that little stunt with Flo’s body last month. If that’s the case, I’m going to need Noah more than he realizes. There’s no way I can do this alone. I can hardly take care of myself, let alone a helpless infant.

Serena gives another quick blow of her whistle, causing the baby to jump in my tummy—and I’m betting that just happened across the board.

I look up at Noah. “If she keeps that up, she’ll send every woman in this room into premature labor. The baby doesn’t like it.”

Noah lays both of his hands over my belly and the baby jabs at him, making his dimples go off in turn.

“Now”— Serena waves a clipboard at us—“according to my roster, every single one of you will be first-time parents. So on behalf of my co-leader and myself, we offer you a warm congratulations. If you don’t mind, I’d like for you to go around and introduce yourselves and fill us in on your birthing plan.”

A few couples give their names, occupations, and birthing plans before it lands on us.

“I’m Lottie Lemon.” I give a little wave. “I own the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery down on Main Street. And I plan on having a natural delivery as well,” I say as I hold a hand out to the two women who went before me. “And by natural, I mean in a bed with a team of doctors and nurses equipped with all the good drugs they’re willing to give me.” The room lights up with laughter. “And this”—I glance behind me—“is Detective Noah Fox, my boyfriend.” A breath hitches in my throat as I give Noah that deer in the headlights look. “I mean, he’s not quite with the force anymore.” I nod out at the crowd. Nor is he technically my boyfriend. Okay, fine. He is exactly that. “He’s on leave at the moment. There was a little hiccup with a body they found in his yard last month.” A few gasps circle the room. “And to be truthful, I actually have a husband. But he couldn’t be here tonight.”

The woman in a pink tracksuit next to me presses her hand to her chest with a look of relief on her face.

“So he’s not really your boyfriend then—he’s just a friend.” She laughs. “You almost made it sound as if you had a husband and a boyfriend.”

Another round of laughter circles the room.

“Well, actually”—I look out at the crowd of smiling faces—“he’s in the running to be the father. There’s a bit of a paternity debacle at the moment.” I grimace as the words stream from my lips. “But we’re all on friendly terms. No one has to worry about my husband bursting through those doors with a baseball bat or anything. He and Noah are actually quite close. They were stepbrothers once.” Another collective gasp circles the room. “And on that note”—I look to the woman next to me in the pink tracksuit—“why don’t you go next?”

After a few minutes, we’re all acquainted and Serena instructs our coaches to give us a back rub. The coaches get straight to rubbing, and the room fills with sounds of ecstasy.

Dear Lord, it really does feel like heaven.

“On second thought,” I whisper to Noah through a moan. “Maybe this wasn’t such a stupid idea.”

“The best part is, we can continue the endeavor once we get home.” He sniffs my neck as he says it, but I’m enjoying myself too much to reprimand him—or deny him the right to continue the endeavor once we hit the house.

Serena and Lainey come around and teach each of the coaches how to properly administer a rubdown in the event we were having some real deal hardcore contractions.

“You’re looking good,” Lainey offers her enthusiasm. “Noah, you’re really going to want to get in there when she’s in labor. Maybe make sure your hands stretch all the way down her back. You might want to try to rub her legs and feet, too. When I was in labor, I kept getting a charley horse right behind my thigh, and Forest spent hours between my legs.”

“Hours?” I muse. Funny how I chose to focus on that part of the conversation. I’m not touching the between the legs comment.

“That’s right.” She nods his way. “You’re going to have to build your endurance, too. Just make sure to give her a good rubdown every night. It’ll help her sleep better in the meantime. And who knows? You might get lucky yourself. This is Lottie we’re talking about.”

“Oh, stop it.” I give her a playful swat on the arm.

Serena and Lainey teach us a few simple breathing techniques to go along with that full body rubdown.

“Okay”—Serena blows her whistle once again until the din of conversations in the room quiets down—“I always close with what I like to call a trip to the bedroom. I’m guessing all of you have enjoyed a little bedroom time or you wouldn’t be here tonight.” A quick chortle circles the room. “I’d like to have a couple volunteer to come up and get comfy on this bed.”

“Oh, pick us!” I wave my hand as I smack Noah on the leg until he yanks me up to a standing position. “I’m just dying to lie on that thing,” I say as I waddle over with Noah in tow.

Serena has me lie down right over the spacious and cool crimson-colored comforter and it feels like bliss. My eyes close of their own volition. Another minute like this and I might just start snoring in a room full of people. Ask me if care.

“Who knows where this is going?” Serena asks with a note of excitement, and I lift an eyelid to get a better look at her. “That’s right. We’re going to give a few pointers on functional and practical positions while making love to your partner.”

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