Baby Lessons

strange all of a sudden, like something rusty that hadn’t been used in a while. A long, long while. “You’re entitled to your feelings. It’s not silly.”
The smile wobbled off her face and what was left in its place was an expression so raw, so vulnerable that Jack almost felt like he should avert his gaze. But he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. A hush fell between them, and the only sounds that registered in Jack’s consciousness were the splash-splash of the twins in their bath seats and the beat of his own heart, pounding as if it had just recognized a kindred spirit.
“That day at the coffee shop you mentioned you’d grown up without a mom,” he finally said. “Is that what the sudden tears are about?”
She nodded. “In a way, yes. She died when I was just a baby, so it was always just me and my dad until he died a few years ago. I loved him very much, but I’m beginning to realize how much my mother’s death shaped the way he raised me.”
“How so?”
“To be strong, independent and practical, which are all great attributes, but...”
“But strength alone doesn’t leave much room for connection.” Jack nodded. He understood exactly what she was trying to say. How could he not? It was the same sentiment his mom and the guys at the firehouse had been repeating to him over and over again for the past year.
He hadn’t wanted to hear it, though. He wasn’t ready. He had his daughters, and they were the only connection he needed.
Or so he’d thought until his night nanny smiled at him from behind a veil of tears, and the urge to kiss her became so overwhelming that he could hardly breathe.
“Exactly.” Her gaze slid toward the babies in the tub and then back toward him. “I suppose I owe you a thank-you. I was beginning to think I’d make a terrible mother someday, but now...”
Her voice went all soft around the edges, and the gratitude in her expression just about killed him. He knew right then and there he could never, ever ask if she was Queen Bee. The answer to that question just might have the power to break a heart. Maybe even two.
“There’s more to being a mother than knowing how to change a diaper, Madison. Simply showing up is a hell of a good start.” He wasn’t sure which one of them leaned in first or if they’d simply been drawn to each other by some invisible force, but she was suddenly right there, just a whisper away, so close that he could see the bloom of her pulse in the dip between her collarbones. He could see the heat in her eyes, as precious and unexpected as liquid gold. Somewhere deep inside, he felt himself slowly begin to crack open, and it felt so damn good, like he could take his first full gulp of oxygen after holding his breath for months.
He cupped her cheek in one of his hands—the lightest of touches, but it sent shock waves of awareness coursing through him, warm like honey. “You’ll make a wonderful mother. Trust me.”
“I trust you,” she whispered, and the last shred of Jack’s resistance fell away.
His gaze dropped to her perfect pink mouth and he dipped his head toward hers, almost undone by the thought of tasting her. The scent of lavender swirled in the air, wrapping them in a dream, and somehow Jack summoned the wherewithal to send her a questioning look, because as much as he wanted this, he needed to know she wanted it, too.
She nodded, lips parting, and every cell in his body seemed to cry with relief. But in the final moment of sweet surrender, just as their lips were about to touch, two simple syllables dragged him away from the moment and back to reality.
Dada.
Madison’s eyes flew open, and she found a shell-shocked Jack staring back at her less than an inch away. Goodness, he was a beautiful man. At this close range, his bone structure alone was almost enough to make her weep.
“Did you hear that?” he blurted.
She nodded. “I certainly did.”
Dada. She’d heard it as plain as day, just when she’d thought nothing on God’s green earth could have stopped her from kissing Jack Cole.
But this was a good interruption—an almost miraculous one, as evidenced by Jack’s whoop of joy.
“I can’t believe it.” He shook his head and whooped again, then bent over the edge of the tub peering back and forth between Ella and Emma.
“Dada,” he said. “Dada, dada, dada.”
The girls let out twin squeals. Ella reached for Jack’s nose and captured it in her tiny fist, and he laughed a deep belly laugh that made Madison feel like crying for some strange reason.
He shot her a quick glance. “Which one of them was it? Do you know?”
“I’m not sure.” Some nanny she was. She’d been too busy kissing dada to tell which twin had just spoken her first word.
Almost kissing, technically.
It was a crucial difference. They hadn’t actually locked lips, and for the life of her, Madison wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved.
Okay, that was patently false. Her heart swelled for Jack and his dada moment, but she couldn’t shake the sense of something unfinished—a moment of pure magic that had slipped right through her fingers.
It was for the best, though. She’d let herself get carried away by the kind things Jack had said to her, and for a wild, unguarded moment, she’d imagined that he and his little girls belonged to her. As crazy as it seemed, she’d almost believed that destiny had brought them into her life. Could it be that all this time, she’d been chasing a byline, longing for bigger and better things, when what she’d really needed was right here in Lovestruck?
Impossible.
“Dada,” Jack said again, and this time, Emma giggled and let out a long stream of baby talk.
“A-ga, a-gagagaga.” Her tiny face lit up in