Falling for the Mom-to-Be. Jenna Mindel

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      Annie finally opened her eyes. “I should get ready for my class.”

      “Maybe you should skip today.” He sounded worried.

      “Oh, no.” She popped out of her seat. “I’m fine. Really.”

      Matthew didn’t look as if he believed her. In fact, he looked irritated.

       Welcome to the club.

      Irritation and worry were Annie’s daily companions, lined up behind the empty feeling of loss. Right now she couldn’t take the concern in Matthew’s eyes. Nor the desire to lean on him. He had broad shoulders that she’d cried against before. She didn’t want to do it again or she might not stop.

      “So what did the doctor say about all this?”

      “The usual stuff, I suppose.” Annie didn’t want to admit her fears or that high-risk label. It’d only make Matthew worry that much more. She didn’t want him hovering too close, either.

      “When will it be born?” Matthew pressed.

      “It?” She laughed when his cheeks reddened.

      “He, she... I don’t know what to say.”

      Annie patted his shoulder and felt his muscles tense beneath her touch. “Before Thanksgiving.”

      “That’s before the close of the shipping season.” Matthew stood up and faced her.

      Why’d he look so concerned? “Yeah, so?”

      “So...I want to be there.”

      Annie’s stomach flipped but she shook her head. What was he thinking offering up something like that? “I’ll be fine. Ginger can go with me.”

      The curse of every single mother reduced to having their friends there for delivery instead of the baby’s father. She and Jack would have had all winter together with their child. And now?

       Christmas was going to be horrible this year.

      Matthew saw too much and stood too close. “Aww, Annie.”

      Annie backed away before she did something stupid like pulling him into her arms. Those broad shoulders of his were calling out for another good cry.

       One, two, three...

      Her tongue felt dry and thick, but she managed to say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      * * *

      The following evening, Matthew stepped inside Annie’s dance studio. She’d taken over a space once used as an exercise gym. The storefront remained a wall of windows that Annie had covered with see-through fabric framed by maroon velvet curtains. The other walls were covered with mirrors. Classical music played softly over the sound system.

      A few people that he assumed might be parents lingered while Annie worked with a group of young girls. They stood in a single line and gripped a waist-high bar.

      “First, second, third...” Annie called out the numbers as she moved into different positions. Up on her toes, down, pointed leg out, back in.

      Her students followed her lead.

      Annie didn’t use a bar and she moved with fluid grace. Her hair had been twined into a knot at the back of her head making her neck look long like the rest of her. She wore a leotard over black leggings and a filmy skirt. Her stomach looked as trim as the rest of her.

      Jack had met Annie at a coffee shop in Grand Rapids where she’d been a ballerina with a company there. She’d left performing behind when they moved north and set up this studio. If he remembered correctly, she taught both ballet and exercise—advanced stretching or something.

      Annie caught him watching her and faltered.

      He smiled. She must have been beautiful on stage.

      Checking her watch, Annie announced. “Okay, ladies, that’s it for today. Nice job.”

      A chorus of “aww” rang out.

      While she talked to parents, he toured the wall of fame decorated with pictures of local dance productions Annie had been involved with and previous students that had gone beyond what this area had to offer.

      He turned when he heard her approach.

      “Sorry.” Her face flushed. No, her skin glowed. But that could be from the sheen of healthy perspiration along her forehead. She wiped it away with a towel and then looked up at him. “What are you doing here?”

      Good question. “I thought I’d go over the invoice that lists out the roofing materials with you.”

      She tipped her head. “You could have brought it over tomorrow.”

      “I was on my way home and thought maybe you’d want to grab dinner.” Showing Annie what she paid for on the roof was reason enough to stop by. But then, maybe it was about spending time with her, too, making sure she was okay. Stopping by her house later wasn’t a good idea, and tomorrow, he’d be busy with the roof, hurried along by Luke.

      “Dinner, huh?” She looked wary.

      “Are you feeling up to it?”

      Then annoyed. “You don’t have to worry about me, you know.”

      “I know.” So why was he? He thought about her a lot. Maybe too much. “But we both have to eat.”

      She smiled. “I am hungry and cooking doesn’t sound appealing tonight.”

      “I’ll even let you pick the place.” He smiled back.

      That earned him an evil look of mischief like the old Annie. “There’s a new restaurant down the street that’s good.”

      Matthew got nervous considering what Annie thought was good food. “Do they serve real meat?”

      “Yes.” She chuckled and sat down to unlace the ribbons of her ivory-colored ballet shoes with the square toes.

      “Does it hurt?”

      “Does what hurt?” She pulled off a sheer footie sock.

      “Standing on your toes like that.”

      Annie stretched out bare feet and wiggled her skinny, calloused toes that were taped in places. “I’ve exercised them all my life to make them strong, so I’m used to it. But my feet are ugly.”

      He’d never noticed her feet before. They looked work-hardened but not bad. “I’ve seen prettier.”

      She clobbered him in the shoulder but laughed. It sounded good hearing her laugh. “Let me throw on a cover-up and we’ll go.”

      “I’ll СКАЧАТЬ