With that, Cordy pushed past him and out the door. She looked as sexy from the back as the front, with an ass he’d love to take a bite out of and hips made to cradle a man.
Cordelia Johnson looked damn good pregnant. Chance wouldn’t have said he had a taste for pregnant ladies, but she was making him reconsider. Not herpersonallythough, because a woman like her deserved more than one night with a man like him.
The door smacked shut behind her. Everyone in the Donut Palace started whispering.
Right. Chance still hadn’t figured out what was going on. He looked over the bulletin board, searching…
Oh hell.Shock smacked into him as he read Cordy’s ad. Yeah, that would do it.
“Can you believe that?” Mr. Ulker asked. He was a retired gentleman who spent mornings at the Donut Palace with his buddies in the Old Timers’ Corner. “She’s advertising for abirthcoach.”
Chance held in his sigh. People talked about Cordy’s job in the same scandalized tone—apregnantbartender. He had to remind them she was servingthe liquor, not chugging it down.
“What’s a birth coach?” Mr. Slade asked. “Isn’t she going to have a doctor there?”
“Some people don’t,” Mr. Ulker said sagely. “They just go out into the forest and do it. Or they use a kiddie pool. I saw it on the YouTube.”
Chance shuddered. Mr. Ulker watching birth videos on YouTube was the kind of horror Chance wished he’d never known existed.
“She wants someone to go with her into the forest?” Mr. Slade shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
Chance made sure he kept smiling. “That’s not what she wants. She needs a partner for a class. They have classes before you give birth. You go with a partner.”
Helena Hansen tossed them a dirty look from the Parents’ Corner. Apparently, their choice of conversation was inappropriate.
Chelsea Tyler cleared her throat, catching Chance’s attention. “I tried to ask her about it,” Chelsea said, “but she wouldn’t look at me. She seemed embarrassed, and I didn’t want to make it worse.”
Chance had to admit asking for a partner for a birth class was one of the more unusual postings on the board. It ran more to handyman ads, lost dogs, and roosters needing re-homing. Question was, why was someone as self-contained as Cordy advertising for that? She had to be desperate, but why?
“They have classes?” Mr. Slade scoffed. “To teach you what?”
Mrs. Slade might have had a different attitude since she’d delivered six babies of her own, apparently without Mr. Slade’s help.
“Young people these days don’t know how to do anything,” Mr. Ulker said.
Behind the counter, Liberty Valance rolled her eyes, but she kept her mouth shut.
“No one asked you,” Chelsea snapped. “So maybe mind your own beeswax.”
“She put it on the board,” Mr. Slade said. “That made it the whole town’s business.”
“Anyone can post anything on the board.” Liberty’s tone held a warning. “As long as it’s not pornographic or illegal.”
“Those birth videos I saw on the YouTube were pornographic.” Mr. Ulker waggled his eyebrows.
“Maybe since you watched all those videos,” Liberty challenged him, “you’d be the perfect person to be her birth coach.”
Mr. Ulker actually considered it for a moment. That was the final straw for Chance.
Chance grabbed the flyer and tore it down. “You know what? I’m going to answer the ad. So it’s not your business anymore.”
He might be the world’s least likely labor coach, but he was a damn sight better than Mr. Ulker.
“Thank you,” Liberty said. “Now, does anyone want any donuts? Or maybe some freshbrunsviger? Or refills on coffee?”
That got everyone’s attention. They returned to what was important: their breakfast foods.
Chelsea caught his eye again. “I don’t have time to be a birth coach.” She bounced her baby on her knee. “But I want to help. I just don’t want to offend her. She seems…” Her mouth compressed when she couldn’t find the right word.
