Baby Lessons

rescuing a kitten in a tree,” Wade interjected, oh so helpfully.
Madison laughed. “Seriously? That’s a real thing that you do?”
“He does.” Wade nodded. “He also rescues other cute animals. Last week it was a pair of ducklings stuck in a storm drain.”
For the love of God, would he stop talking already?
Jack raked a hand through his hair, tugging hard at the ends. Time to set the record straight before Wade started planning their wedding. “Wade, this is Madison Jules. She’s my...”
Night nanny.
The words were right there on the tip of his tongue, but Madison interrupted before he could get them out.
“Um, actually I need to talk to you about the whole nanny thing,” she said, smile faltering.
And that was all it took for something in Jack’s gut to harden into stone.
“Well.” Wade shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. “I’ll let you two chat. It was nice to see you again, Madison.”
“Nice to see you, too.” She grinned, but it didn’t reach her eyes the way it always seemed to do when she was busy arguing with Jack.
Despite the warning bells currently going off in his head, a proprietary surge of awareness flowed through his veins. Good grief, he was a mess.
“So,” he said once Wade was out of earshot. “What can I help you with, Madison?”
She took a deep breath, and then her face crumpled. “Stop it, would you?”
He blinked. What had he done now? “Stop what?”
“Stop being so nice and...and—” she glared at his bandage “—heroic,” she spat, as if it was a dirty word.
Jack wanted to laugh, but he didn’t dare. “I’ll do my best.”
“Honestly. Could you please just go ahead and do it?” She wrapped her arms around herself as if it took every ounce of her strength to hold herself together, and Jack was reminded of the lecture Wade had given him on the rig after the first time he’d seen her.
Don’t you think she seemed a little vulnerable?
He’d scoffed at the idea back then, but suddenly it didn’t seem so far off base.
“Madison.” He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from tacking an endearment onto her name. Honey. Sweetheart. Darlin’. Why did he keep forgetting she was his employee? “I’m not sure what all this is about.”
Over her shoulder, Jack spotted Wade, Cap and Brody watching them through the upstairs kitchen window, and he wished they were having this conversation someplace else other than the front steps of the firehouse. Anyplace else.
He lowered himself onto the bench, which wasn’t entirely out of view, but better.
Then he patted the empty space next to him. “Talk to me. Please?”
She sat down gingerly beside him, all womanly softness and polka dot chiffon. God, she smelled fantastic—like daisies and sunlight, with just a telltale hint of baby powder.
“I’m fired,” she said succinctly. “There. If you won’t say it, I will.”
He reached for her hand with his, then caught himself and rested his empty palm in his lap instead. “You’re not fired.”
“Oh, please. I so am. And I definitely deserve it. I’m sorry to barge in at your workplace like this, but I thought it would be best to get this over with so you’d have time to find someone else to take care of the girls.” She gave him a decisive nod. “Someone better.”
He looked at her long and hard. He didn’t want someone better. He wanted her. “Still not firing you. Sorry.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Fine. Then I quit.”
“Resignation not accepted.” He stood and planted his hands on his hips. “Now that we’ve got that all settled, I should probably get back to work. There’s probably a baby animal in need of saving somewhere.”
She flew to her feet just as he started to walk away. “Wait!”
He arched a brow. “Is there something else?”
She studied him for a quiet moment, and something unspoken passed between them—something beyond banter and bravado—something real. And a strange sort of joy bubbled up inside Jack as he got his first glimpse of what it might feel like to be on Madison’s good side.
“Toby is a Chinese crested,” she blurted without preamble.
Jack was lost again. Keeping up with this woman was a full-time job. “A what?”
“A Chinese crested. It’s a type of dog.” She pulled a face. “A hairless one. He’s got an impressive collection of hand-knit sweaters, though.”
So Toby the three-year-old who worshipped her was, in fact, a dog. That explained the baby powder. And the diapers. And the rest of the mess she’d made.
“I would expect nothing less than a stellar wardrobe for the canine in your life,” he deadpanned.
“He’s not technically mine. He belongs to my aunt. I’m staying with them for a while.”
A while. Jack tensed, and he wasn’t entirely sure why.
He shrugged. “You’re still not fired.”
“But I lied,” she countered.
“We all lie from time to time,” he said, thinking of his letters to the Lovestruck Bee. He’d been actively lying about his own identity to a stranger in the newspaper every single day. For weeks. “We’ll see you Friday night, Madison. Ella and Emma are looking forward to it.”
So was he, but Jack didn’t say so.
We all lie from time to time.
A lie by omission was a lie, all the same.

Chapter Seven
Dear Editor,
With all due respect, if listicles are indeed a thing, as Queen Bee insists, I shudder to think what will come of children’s storybooks.
Sincerely,
Fired Up in Lovestruck
Dear Editor,
I can’t help but wonder how Fired Up in Lovestruck feels about Goldilocks and the Three Bears?
The Three Little Pigs?
One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish?
The Three Billy Goats Gruff?
I could go on, but I have a column to write.
My point—even kids love lists. How does Fired Up think they learn to count?
Sincerely,
Queen Bee
Dear Queen Bee,
Touché. You got me.
Sincerely,
Fired Up in Lovestruck
The following Saturday morning Madison couldn’t help feeling just a tiny bit triumphant as she walked to the library for her volunteer shift at story hour.
The night before she’d somehow managed to survive another shift at Jack’s house with his adorable twins. They slept