Baby Lessons

the far wall. There are plenty, so I’m sure you can find something fun.”
“Oh, sure.” Madison nodded as if she had any clue what kind of book might be appropriate for the children of Lovestruck.
She’d sort of assumed that the librarian would select the books, but Honey was already bustling toward the general fiction shelves, pausing along the way to help an older patron who seemed to be having trouble using one of the community computers.
Okay, then.
She could do this. If she could handle eight straight hours with twin six-month-olds, she could certainly handle story time at the library. And once it was over, she’d head straight back to Aunt Alice’s and take the mother of all naps. Her part-time night nanny gig was proving to be more exhausting than the cocktail circuit on the Upper East Side.
She headed straight for the shelf labeled with a little castle insignia that read Fables & Fairy Tales. Right off, she found The Three Little Pigs, Goldilocks and the Three Bears and Three Billy Goats Gruff, all stories she’d mentioned in her recent retort to Fired Up in Lovestruck. They’d worked for her column, so she supposed they’d work for story time, too. The Dr. Seuss collection was situated nearby, where Madison spotted One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish on the bottom shelf.
Why not?
She bent to grab it on her way to the story circle, but the moment she returned to an upright position, she plowed straight into a wall of muscle—and that wall just happened to be wearing a helmet and a good deal of fire-retardant clothing.
“J-Jack,” she managed to sputter as she crashed facefirst into his chest. There was that smoky smell again, this time mixed with the gentle aroma of fresh, clean soap.
He reached for her shoulders, holding her steady as the books in her arms slid to the floor in a pile of rhyming verse and whimsical illustrations. “Whoa, there. Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You didn’t.” She shook her head hard enough for a long curl to fall in front of one of her eyes. She still longed for her flat iron on a daily basis. “I mean, I’m not scared.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
Everything about Jack frightened her—from the way the low timbre of his voice caused heat to swarm low in her belly to the protective warmth of his big hands and everything in between. Oh, no. She really was developing feelings for him, wasn’t she? Her pants might actually be on fire.
A hysterical little laugh bubbled up her throat. Oh, my God. Get a grip, it’s only a harmless crush.
“You sure you’re okay?” Jack studied her.
“Just peachy.”
He released his grip on her, and for a moment every cell in her body seemed to weep at the loss of contact. Then he reached to brush the hair from her eyes and tuck it tenderly behind her ear, and a riot of goose bumps broke out over her neck and all the way down her arm.
“Ahem.” She coughed to keep herself from purring like a kitten. “Ahem. What are you doing here...in all of your, um, regalia?”
“Regalia?” He laughed, and it occurred to Madison that Jack didn’t do so nearly often enough. “It’s just turnout gear. Hardly regal.”
Agree to disagree.
He gestured toward the library’s circulation desk, where Honey was chatting with another uniformed firefighter. “I’m here with Wade. We’re doing the biannual inspection of the library’s fire extinguishers. And you? Are you here picking up a little light reading?”
He smiled, then bent to gather the storybooks, still scattered at their feet.
Madison knelt beside him and righted the overturned copy of The Three Little Pigs. “Actually, I’m volunteering. I’m reading at the children’s story hour. It starts in just a few minutes, so I was getting a few books together.”
Jack’s gaze locked on to the book in her hands, and his smile faded ever so slightly. “Volunteering. That’s great.”
“My aunt Alice suggested it,” Madison said.
Jack nodded absently as he gathered himself back to his full height and took a closer look at the books he’d picked up from the floor. A few more children entered the library and skipped toward the story circle while their parents ambled behind them, clutching coffee cups from the Lovestruck Bean.
Madison would have killed for a maple latte right then. Who knew you could bring food and beverages into the library? Once again, things in Vermont were proving to be breezy and relaxed...
With the notable exception of the air swirling between her and Jack. He’d gone stony-faced all of a sudden. Any and all traces of earlier camaraderie seemed to vanish so quickly that Madison wondered if the flirty vibe she’d picked up on had only been the product of wishful thinking.
“Um, I should probably head on over there,” she said, tipping her head in the direction of the children, who’d begun crawling all over each other in anticipation.
He looked up finally, brow furrowed, and handed the picture books back to her. “Interesting selection. Any reason why you chose those particular books?”
“Sort of.” Madison shrugged. She kept forgetting that the few people she knew in Lovestruck didn’t realize she wrote for the newspaper. Ah, the joys of being forced to write under a cutesy pseudonym. It wasn’t exactly a state secret, though. She should probably tell him. “Actually, I...”
“Madison!” Honey waved at her from the story circle. “We’re ready for you!”
Madison waved back and cast one last look at Jack. Was it her imagination, or did he look oddly pale? “Sorry. Duty calls.”
“Of course,” he said woodenly. “Go.”
She lingered for a moment, tempted to stay so she could try and figure out why he was acting so strangely. Silly, really. There were children waiting for her, and since when had Jack and his moody streak become her problem?
“Right. See you later,” she said, squaring her shoulders as she walked away.
She didn’t have any intention of making a life here, with or without a brooding fireman and his darling twin babies.