Breathe with Me (With Me in Seattle, #7)(8)

“The moms like to see them in frilly dance clothes.” Jax shrugs and then laughs when a little girl, while watching herself in the mirror, makes a complete turn, transfixed by the sight before her. “And the girls like it too.”

I nod and then squat to help another girl with her shoes.

Before long, the excitement backstage is mounting. The girls are excited to show their mom and dads what they’ve learned. Or just show off onstage. We have girls of all ages dancing today.

“Ten minutes!” Jax calls out and the little girls all clap excitedly. “Hey, isn’t that your Mr. Hot Tamale in the audience?”

I frown and glance out from the curtain and survey the audience. Sure enough, right there in the front row, is Mark with Luke and his family.

What are they doing here?

I glance back at Jax with what I’m sure is panic written all over my face. He laughs and pats my shoulder. “Go say hi.”

“Oh God.” I clutch my stomach and inwardly cringe when I think of the way I threw myself at him at Mom’s funeral. I don’t know what came over me. I saw him, and it was as if no time had passed at all and I just knew in that moment that he was the only one who could comfort me.

And then I realized what I’d done, and when I pulled away he was aloof and someone I didn’t know.

He didn’t even say goodbye.

I bite my lip and decide what the hell? “I’ll be right back.”

“No hurry, we’re ready back here.” Jax winks and turns his attention to a mom asking about adult classes.

I walk out from backstage and approach Mark and Luke.

“Hi, guys,” I say with a bright smile. “What brings you here?”

It’s then I notice the stunning blonde sitting to Mark’s right, and the baby girl she’s holding.

Holy Jesus, Mary and Joseph, he’s married with a kid?

And that is the sound of my heart shattering and lying on the ground.

“Hi, Meredith,” Luke replies with a smile. Mark’s head jerks around as he takes the baby from his wife.

“What are you all doing here?”

“We’re here to watch,” Luke says and balances a toddler on his knee. “This is my wife, Natalie, and our children, Olivia,” he points to the little girl on his lap and then to the sleeping baby nestled in his wife’s arms, “and Keaton.”

I smile and shake Natalie’s hand and then turn my attention to Mark.

“I see congratulations are in order for you too, Mark.”

He frowns for just a moment and then seems to remember that he’s holding the infant. “Oh! This is Stella,” he kisses her head and my chest aches. Oh God, he looks amazing with a baby in his arms. But it’s not our baby.

Do not cry. Do not freak out. You can get through this. Keep smiling.

“She’s beautiful,” I choke out in the worst monotone voice I’ve ever heard. He’s watching me carefully and the woman beside him is typing furiously on her phone, then looks up at me and smiles.

“Hi! I’m Jules. Sorry, I was just texting my husband. He’s worried about Stella. He always worries.” She laughs and tucks her phone in the Louis Vuitton sitting at her feet. “It’s really very cute.”

“Not your baby, then,” I say to Mark and am mortified to hear the relief in my voice.

“No, Nate might have issues if I had children with Mark.” Jules laughs and nudges him with her shoulder. “Mark might not survive Nate’s wrath if that happened.”

“I would be a dead man,” Mark agrees with a laugh.

He kisses Stella’s head again with that naughty smile on his lips that I’ve always loved. He looks delicious in a red T-shirt and worn jeans.

“Maddie, Josie and Sophie are my nieces,” Jules continues and takes Stella back from Mark. “This is our family.”

My eyes follow her gesture and then I feel them just about bug out of my head when about twenty people wave at me, including Brynna and Stacy, whose daughters are in my class.

“You brought the whole family to a dance recital?” I ask in surprise.

“Maddie and Josie pretty much guilt-tripped us all into coming,” Mark replies. “Apparently, they’ll be heartbroken if everyone isn’t here.”

“Extortionists,” Caleb mutters.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Meredith Summers. I own this studio. Thanks for coming! I hope you enjoy the show.”

I turn to leave and am just inside the curtain to backstage when a strong hand grips my arm and spins me around and I’m looking at a very sexy Mark Williams.

“Did you need something?” I ask as calmly as possible. His lips twitch, and I know I’m not fooling him.

“I don’t have a wife and kid, Mer.”

I shrug a shoulder and gaze blindly around, avoiding his face. “Okay. It’s really none of my business.”

“No, it’s not,” he agrees softly. “How are you, M?”

I bite my lip and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m fine. A little busy right now. I’m sorry that I flung myself at you at Mom’s funeral, I was just really emotional and—”

“It’s okay,” he interrupts and shakes his head. God, he grew up nice. He’s filled out, his shoulders are broad and strong and his biceps strain against the sleeves of his T. He’s grown a couple of inches. His hair is a little longer than he used to wear it, just a little shaggy, like he hasn’t had a haircut in a while.