Dear Editor,
My sincerest apologies to Queen Bee for my comments about the applesauce recipes recently listed in her column. Upon further experimentation, I concede that her advice about removing the apple seeds was entirely correct.
However, in today’s paper readers are treated to yet another whimsical dribble of words from Queen Bee. While “Three Ways to Use Yarn to Entertain Your Toddler” seems helpful on the surface, I must ask why a professional journalist insists on writing her material in this annoying list format. Also, a mere three items hardly constitute a list.
Three? Seriously?
Sincerely,
Fired Up in Lovestruck
The sooner, the better.
They’d been Sarah Cole’s exact words when she’d called Jack at the station the night before.
Her name is Madison Jules, and I think she’s just what you’re looking for.
Jack sighed as he ran a hand over Ella’s soft, downy head and glanced out the window of the Lovestruck Bean. His mom had been insistent—he was to call the woman she’d met at her knitting class immediately for an interview.
In theory, Jack agreed. In practice, however, an immediate interview necessitated getting a substitute for the second day of his shift. He’d done so, mainly because he was well aware of how indebted he was to his mom. There was absolutely no room for negotiation. If she wanted him to do something, he did it. Plus, the guys at the firehouse were more than happy to cover for him if it meant he might get some actual help at home. He hadn’t even had to secure a sub. Wade volunteered to do it for him, so long as Jack stuck by his earlier promise to hire the next qualified applicant for the job.
So Jack had acquiesced and made the call. A few hours of phone tag with the mystery woman in question had followed, but he’d eventually scheduled an interview via text. Then he’d headed home early, tucked Ella and Emma into their baby wrap carrier and trudged down to the coffee shop to meet his possible future night nanny. And now…
Now she was late, which didn’t exactly bode well.
He rocked back and forth, keeping up the gentle motion that typically lulled the twins to sleep. It wasn’t quite working, though. Emma cooed happily, and her tiny little eyelashes were doing the slow-blink thing that meant a nap was imminent, but Ella’s little legs kicked up a storm.
“Shh,” he murmured and paced the length of the coffee shop. Maybe he should have had the nanny come to the house instead of trying to do this over maple macchiatos in one of the busiest places on Main Street.
Then again, he’d never set eyes on Madison Jules. He didn’t know the first thing about the woman, other than she liked to knit baby booties. That seemed like an excellent sign, though. It conjured an image in Jack’s head of a grandmother-type with her hair in a bun and glasses hanging from a chain around her neck. Someone whose entire life revolved around babies. Someone punctual.
He frowned and dug his phone out of his pocket to check the time. A text message flashed on the display.
Running a few minutes late. So sorry. Almost there.
The message was followed by two emojis—matching cartoon baby heads.
Jack stopped pacing.
Emojis?
He glanced out the window again, somehow no longer certain his night nanny was an actual grandmother. But that was fine, wasn’t it? Shame on him, really, for jumping to conclusions about knitters.
Everything’s going to be fine.
Ella let out a happy squeal, rousing a sleepy-eyed Emma. Jack pressed a soft kiss to the tops of their sweet little heads. First one, then the other. Then he looked back up and froze when his gaze locked on a familiar woman dashing through the crosswalk, straight toward him.
She had a halo of dark, windswept curls and warm, brown eyes—eyes that he’d seen in his dreams for several nights running. She was wearing another pair of sky-high stilettos with glossy red soles that were ridiculously impractical for rural Vermont, but damned if they didn’t make her legs look a million miles long. A large designer handbag was slung over one of her slender shoulders, perfect for carrying around a bushelful of apples.
Or, Jack thought nonsensically, possibly his heart.
His jaw clenched as once again, his mother’s words spun through his head.
Her name is Madison Jules…
She’s just what you’re looking for.
* * *
Madison was running late, and it was all Fired Up’s fault.
She’d planned her entire lunch hour around the coffee date she’d scheduled with Sarah’s son, John, but then Mr. Grant had called her into his office—again—to gush about the ongoing success of the feud. She’d been forced to sit and pretend to be excited about the fact that some random stranger was publicly insulting her again, as if it was a good thing.
It was a good thing, she supposed. Under the current circumstances, anyway. So long as she and Fired Up kept antagonizing each other, her job was secure.
But being mocked over and over didn’t exactly feel great. She wanted to be appreciated for her actual work, not the fact that she’d managed to spectacularly antagonize one of her readers. Was that really too much to ask?
A pickup truck honked at her as she dashed through the crosswalk. She waved in apology and blew a corkscrew lock of hair out of her face. She was so late. There was no way she’d get the night nanny job. Maybe that was okay, because she wasn’t sure she even wanted it. She should be in Manhattan right now, pitching articles for Fashion Week. Instead, her boss had decided to print her troll’s recent letter to the editor on the front page.
Oh, how the mighty—and stylish—had fallen.
The minute her nanny interview was over, she needed to send another round of emails to her contacts in New York. She needed to get out of Lovestruck. She needed her life back—her real life.
But first she needed to convince Sarah’s son that she was the next best thing to Mrs. Doubtfire. She was so not in the mood for this.
“Sorry!” she called out to anyone and everyone as she burst through the door of the Lovestruck Bean.
Every head in the establishment swiveled in her direction, save one. There didn’t seem to be an infant in sight, much less twins, and within seconds the patrons all turned their attention back to their coffee drinks.
Madison deflated a little, and then narrowed her gaze at the broad, muscled back of the person who’d managed to ignore her frazzled arrival. Heat crawled up her neck, and her stomach did a nervous little flip. She’d know that back anywhere.
Ugh, what was the surly firefighter doing here? This wasn’t good. Not good at all, given her track record of making a complete idiot out of herself every time he was near.
She squared her shoulders. Fine. She’d deal with it. Sarah’s son hadn’t even arrived yet, anyway. Maybe Lieutenant Grumpy would be gone by then. He definitely didn’t seem like the type to linger over his latte.
She fished through her bag for her cell phone and fired off another text to John, the father of Sarah’s angelic grandtwins, just to let him know she was at the Bean, ready and waiting. The second she hit Send, a nearby phone chimed with an incoming text message.
Odd. Madison gnawed on her bottom lip and glanced around. She tried to ignore Lieutenant Cole, but as usual, her attention was drawn to him like a magnet. So very annoying.
She frowned as she watched him pull an iPhone out of his back pocket. No. Her pulse kicked up a notch as she checked her own phone, and sure enough, a read receipt flashed beneath the text she’d just sent.
No.
Way.
He couldn’t possibly be Sarah’s son, could he? Madison hadn’t caught Sarah’s last name. She only knew that the single dad in need of a night nanny was named John.
Her heart sank to the soles of her patent leather Louboutin stilettos. Jack was a nickname for John, wasn’t it? She cursed small-town life under her breath. This would never happen in a city as big as Manhattan. In New York, she could have humiliated herself in the produce section of the supermarket and taken solace in the fact that she’d never again run into the hot first responder who’d witnessed her mortification.
Flight-or-fight instinct kicked in hard, and she started toward the door. She couldn’t work for him. No way, no how. She wasn’t sure if she despised him or if she wanted him to kiss her, and neither of those options was appropriate for an employer-employee relationship.
But her feet slowed to a stop halfway to the exit as the full implication of the sight of his chiseled back finally dawned on her. Jack had seen her text. He’d probably seen her approaching the coffee shop. Yet, there he stood—actively avoiding her.
Message received. He didn’t want to hire her any more than she wanted to be his nanny. It shouldn’t have bothered her, considering the fact that she was midflight herself. But it did bother her. Very, very much.
She spun around, marched straight over to him and tapped him on his sculpted shoulder. Good grief, how often did someone have to work out to have muscles like that?
She contemplated this question as he slowly turned to face her, mainly so she wouldn’t be forced to think about why she always seemed to be poking him in order to instigate a confrontation. But then there he was—looking down at her from his towering height—and she suddenly couldn’t think at all. Or breathe. Or do much of anything other than gape at the sight of him with two small babies strapped to his chest in some kind of sling contraption.
Her throat went dry. She wasn’t even a baby person, but wow. This was beyond adorable. He couldn’t have looked more attractive if he’d been caught saving an entire family of kittens from a tree.
“Hello,” he said, frowning. As usual.
Madison felt herself smile as she took in the pink bow headbands jauntily placed on each of the babies’ heads. Twin girls—identical, with matching, precious faces, tiny rosebud mouths and their father’s dreamy blue eyes. One of them laughed and kicked her little feet, and it took every bit of self-control Madison possessed not to melt into a gooey puddle at Jack Cole’s arrogant feet.
She forced herself to meet his gaze. “Are you hiding from me?”
“No,” he lied, the twitch in his scowl a dead giveaway.
Madison crossed her arms. “So you normally skulk in corners like this?”
“Always. I’m an expert skulker.” He shrugged one massive shoulder. “It’s kind of my thing.”
She smiled again before she could stop herself. “We keep…um…running into each other, but it seems we haven’t met properly. I’m Madison Jules.”
She stuck out her hand, and he took it. She braced herself for another delicious spark like she’d experienced the other brief moments they’d touched, but this time was different. His grasp was warm, and there was something more honest about it this time. Tender, almost.
It made Madison feel oddly weepy. She aimed her attention back toward one of the twins, blinking at her with impossibly long eyelashes. Were all babies this cute, or just his?
“So.” She swallowed. “You have twins.”
“I do.” He dipped his chin toward one of the girls and then the other. “Emma and Ella.”
Even their names were darling.
Madison nodded. “I met your mom last night at knitting class and she told me you were looking for a night nanny.”
Why was she still talking? She was supposed to chastise him for hiding from her and then walk away with her dignity intact instead of hinting that she might be serious about the job.
He rested a protective hand on each of his daughters’ tiny chests. “Right, but…”
“But you think I’d be terrible at it?” She would, probably. But the fact that he thought so stung for reasons she didn’t care to contemplate.
“I didn’t say that,” he countered.
“You didn’t have to.”
He shook his head. “It’s not…”
Then he stopped, sighed and glanced out the window toward the fire station across the street. The air between them swirled with the heady, homey scents of sweet maple and freshly ground coffee. Madison couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to rock this man’s beautiful babies in her arms, to feed them and dress them in warm footy pajamas and press tender kisses to their soft little heads while their daddy slept in the next room.
The notion was ridiculously intoxicating. God, what was happening to her?
“Look, I know I haven’t made the best first impression. Maybe we could start over? I’m sorry I’m late for this interview, but I got distracted this morning by…” She glanced down at the copy of the Bee in her hand and tossed it onto a nearby table. Facedown, so she wouldn’t have to see Fired Up’s latest missive in the corner of the front page. “Never mind. It’s dumb.”
So dumb.
Three bullet points totally counted as a list. What could someone who wrote handwritten snail mail possibly know about modern journalism? Absolutely nothing. Readers had the attention span of gnats nowadays. If she didn’t organize her articles into tiny, easily digestible bites, no one would read them. It was just the way thing were.
But why she was wasting her time thinking about Fired Up while she was in the throes of the most awkward job interview of all time was a mystery she couldn’t begin to fathom.
“Anyway. I might not be the worst person in the world to babysit your twins.” Her heart gave a wistful little squeeze. Don’t say it, just don’t. “I grew up without a mom around, too, so…”
His gaze swiveled back toward her, and his icy blue eyes softened, ever so slightly. Madison felt achingly exposed all of a sudden, so she hugged her Louis Vuitton tote to her chest like a child with a security blanket.
“Right. Well,” she stammered. “Good luck finding the perfect nanny.”
“Wait,” he snapped as she turned to go. Then softer, almost under his breath, he said. “Just wait a minute. Please?”
Every logical thought in her head told her to walk away and never look back, but Madison had never been a slave to logic. It was probably the most striking difference between her and her nemesis, Fired Up. So she stopped, took a deep breath and waited for whatever it was that Jack Cole wanted to say.
“Are you at all—” His gaze narrowed and he enunciated the following word with great care “—qualified?”
Not in the slightest. Madison’s only response was a hopeful smile.
He gave it another shot. “Have watched over a little one before? Ever?”
“There’s a three-year-old named Toby who positively adores me,” she said proudly.
It wasn’t a lie. Not entirely. He’d said little one, and Toby was definitely little, albeit not exactly human.
“Okay, then. I suppose you’re hired.” Jack Cole nodded, and an irrational surge of joy flowed through Madison until her hands started to shake. “Can you start tonight?”
Tonight? As in, just a few hours from now?
“Absolutely.” She nodded with far too much enthusiasm for a person who didn’t actually want the job in question.
And it was then that Madison realized she wasn’t entirely sure what—or more accurately, who—she wanted anymore.
* * *
Madison arrived at Jack’s house promptly at six, anxious to show that yes, she was an actual, responsible adult who could get places on time when she wasn’t feeling hopelessly distracted by a letter-writing troll with no sense of humor or whimsy whatsoever. Unfortunately, this stunning show of punctuality meant that she’d had to go straight to her new night nanny gig from her job at the paper, so she was still dressed in her best Chanel blouse and Marc Jacobs skirt with the twirly hem, along with her go-to pair of Louboutin heels. Not exactly prime nanny attire, but she’d have to make it work. They were babies. How much harm could they do?
She knocked on the door, reminding herself not to go all breathless when Jack answered. He was her boss now. Not her real boss, technically, since this was more of an undercover situation than her actual career. But still, boundaries and all that.
Not to mention the fact that she still found him wholly annoying. Why shouldn’t she? He thought she’d be such a terrible nanny that he’d actively hid from her at the Bean. Never mind that his instincts had probably been spot-on, hiding from her was just mean and, truth be told, par for the course for the cranky fireman.
There was nothing annoying about his appearance when the door swung open, though. He was wearing a T-shirt that perfectly hugged his firefighting biceps and a pair of faded jeans that looked as soft and comfy as something straight out of a dryer sheet commercial. They were the exact same shade of blue as his eyes, which yes, could have been construed as mildly annoying if Madison had been in any way attracted to his cozy, single-dad vibe. But she wasn’t.
Not much, anyway.
“Hi,” she said. “Night nanny reporting for duty.”
He looked up her and down, and a slight frown tugged at the corner of his mouth as his gaze lingered on her shimmery pink blouse. “Um, is that what you’re wearing?”
She arched a brow. “Do you have something against French fashion?”
“No. It’s just…” His frown deepened. Honestly, she’d never met such a frowny man in her life. “Never mind.”
Good. She didn’t want to get into another argument with him before she even managed to breach the perimeter of his home. “Shall I come inside now?”
“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Of course. Sure.”
Madison stepped inside as he swung the door open wide with about as much enthusiasm as someone welcoming the plague into his home. Things were going great so far. Just peachy.
She looked around and was surprised to find his cottage warm and inviting—in direct opposition to Lieutenant Cole’s general mood pretty much every time she’d been around him—and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was usually a kinder, gentler version of himself and for some reason saved his grumpier moments just for her. She was beginning to suspect the latter, which intrigued her more than she wanted to admit.
Focus.
Babies. Column. Professionalism.
She squared her shoulders and did her best to give off a Mary Poppins vibe. “Where are the twins?”
“Their room is right down the hall.” Jack led the way, and she walked alongside him, doing her best to ignore the way his heroic muscles flexed as he moved.
For about the thousandth time, Madison wished he was an accountant or an engineer instead of a fireman. Honestly, anything that didn’t involve saving innocent people from burning buildings or spending an ounce of time in the gym.
“Here we are.” He pushed a door open, revealing a cotton-candy-hued nursery that made her melt right there on the spot.
It was as pink and girly as a cupcake. She loved every inch of it.
“Please tell me you painted these walls yourself,” she said before she could stop the flow of nonsense from her mouth.
“I did, why?”
“No reason,” she said, biting down hard on her lip to keep herself from smiling at the thought of Jack with baby-pink paint spatters in his hair. Adorable.
A squealing sound came from one of the pretty white cribs that sat side by side against the far wall. Baby sounds—right, the whole reason she was here.
She walked over to the crib and peered down at the sweet infant lying on her back and playing with her feet, much like the happy baby pose Madison had done about a thousand times in yoga. She’d had no idea how on the nose those pose names could be.
“Why, hello there, Emma,” she said in her gentlest tone.
“That’s Ella,” Jack corrected.
“Totally.” Madison nodded. “Ella is what I meant to say.”
Good grief, she couldn’t even tell them apart.
Her grip on the edge of the crib tightened as the first wave of panic washed over her. What was she doing here? Was Jack really going to just stand there and watch her do her job? He was supposed to be sleeping.
She smiled at him. Go to bed. Please, please just go to sleep.
He didn’t budge. He just stood there as if he was waiting for something, and that something probably had to do with her actually interacting with one of his children.
Okay, then. She was going to have to pick Ella up. No problem. She could totally do that. She’d never actually held a baby before, but how hard could it be? It was probably no different than holding Toby, especially since Toby didn’t even have fur.
“Here we go,” she murmured, reaching into the crib. “Come here, Emma sweetheart.”
“Ella,” Jack said.
Not helping! Madison slid her hands beneath Ella’s tiny back, but trying to actually lift her felt strangely similar to trying to scoop up a wet, floppy noodle.
Not that Madison knew much about noodles, either, since apparently, she was a complete failure in the domestic realm. Gosh, why hadn’t she ever taken home ec or child development in high school?
Because you were too busy perfecting your staystitching and hemming techniques in sewing class and writing about Fashion Week for the school paper.
She’d nailed her final senior sewing project—a white faux fur swing coat. She’d actually worn it last winter to the Vogue offices and gotten loads of compliments.
The baby in her hands kicked, drawing her back to the present…to Vermont, where she was an utter failure at everything that mattered.
“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.” Time was ticking away, and she’d yet to heave the sweet little tot into her arms. She was going to have to just do it and hope for the best before Jack realized what a mistake he’d made and told her to leave.
As carefully as possible, she picked Ella up, being especially mindful of her soft baby head, because she remembered reading something about that once in a magazine. It was awkward at first, because Ella insisted on squirming instead of just peering up at her and waiting patiently to be lifted, like Toby always did. But nor did she try to lick Madison’s face—Toby’s favorite thing—and that seemed like a definite bonus.
Finally, she managed to get Ella snuggled against her chest and was rewarded with a breathy little coo that gave her heartstrings a wholly unexpected tug. I did it! She breathed a sigh of relief. Hanging out with these two cuties wouldn’t be so hard. Five minutes down, seven hours and fifty-five minutes to go.
She snuck a glance at Jack, who seemed to be watching her with far less open hostility than he normally did. In fact, there was an aching quality to the way he was looking at her. It made her heart beat hard, and she almost forgot that at some point she’d have to pick up both of his daughters at the same time. Was that even possible? She wasn’t an octopus.
“There, there,” she whispered when the baby in her arms whimpered. “I’ve got you, Emma.”
“Ella.” Jack sighed and the tender expression on his face faded away.
Madison breathed the tiniest bit easier. She could handle a distant Jack Cole. The gentle, scruffy, single-dad version of him was shockingly appealing all of a sudden.
“I knew that,” she lied. “I was just testing you.”
What had she gotten herself into?
* * *
What have I done?
Jack stared at his bedroom ceiling, wide awake at three in the morning. Madison’s presence in his home was impossible to ignore. Somewhere beyond his closed bedroom door, he could hear the lilting softness of her voice as she talked to Emma and Ella in hushed tones. He pictured her delicate feet tiptoeing from one end of the house to the other every time one of his cedar floorboards creaked. Every move she made seemed to echo with sound that vibrated through him, setting his senses on fire.
He knew it was only his imagination. To Madison’s credit, she wasn’t actually making much noise. The twins were having a good night. Every time Ella or Emma starting crying, the tears seemed to stop within seconds. That was when the rhythmic sound of the rocking chair would start, lulling him to sleep right along with his daughters.
But inevitably, he’d dream about Madison and wake up minutes later in a tangle of bedsheets, gasping for air.
This was never going to work. The whole reason for hiring a night nanny was so he could get some rest, and simply breathing the same air as Madison made him feel distinctly restless.
He hadn’t had a choice in the matter, though. He’d promised Wade he would hire the next qualified applicant. Madison had been pretty vague about her experience, and Jack hadn’t asked a single question about the child she’d mentioned—Toby—who “positively adored” her. Why wouldn’t he? She seemed perfectly worthy of adoration.
Besides, Jack had already made up his mind to hire her at that point. Not at first, obviously. At first, he’d been more than a little skeptical. And yeah, he’d actually been hiding from her in hopes of avoiding ending up with a nanny who seemed to court chaos wherever she went.
It was the comment about growing up without a mother that had done him in. Not just the words, but the way she’d said them—so matter-of-factly, even though he could see how vulnerable and open they’d made her feel. Madison was a mystery he couldn’t begin to unravel, but in that moment of truth, he’d wondered if maybe his mother had been right. Maybe she really was just what he was looking for—not for him, but for Ella and Emma. Maybe she could care for his girls and understand them in a way that no one else could.
He hoped so. God, how he hoped. They deserved more than just a single father who worried every damn day that he’d never be enough for them. He wanted to be the rock his daughters needed more than anything else in the world, but he was just one person. What if something happened to him at work one day? He was a firefighter. He put his life on the line on the regular without thinking twice about it. It was his duty.
He squeezed his eyes shut tight and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyelids until he saw spots. One day at a time, he reminded himself. He just had to do his best, take each day as it came and have faith it would all work out. Hiring Madison didn’t make much sense on the surface, but it felt right. For an honest, aching moment in the coffee shop, it had even felt like destiny.
Now, here in the dark, it felt like a mistake. Had he lost his mind? Just days ago, Madison had almost burned down a barn with a hairstyling tool and now he’d given her free rein over his oven, his stove, his microwave and probably a dozen or so highly flammable household goods. She didn’t even seem to know how to dress appropriately for taking care of infants. The thought of her dry-cleaning bill was enough to give him a migraine.
And she’d looked a little panicky before she’d picked up Emma. Ella, damn it! Now she’s got you mixing them up. But once his baby had been in her arms, Madison’s whole body seemed to sigh, and Jack had never wanted to kiss a woman so badly in his life.
He threw the duvet aside and climbed out of bed. Once he took a quick look around to make sure everything was safe and sound, maybe he’d be able to sleep. He’d act like he needed a glass of water or something. Nothing out of the ordinary about that, right?
Sure. Because the only thing keeping you awake at night is fire safety. It has nothing at all to do with the fact that you’d walk through a burning building just to kiss the woman who’s puttering around your house while you lie in bed alone.
His teeth clenched as he pulled a T-shirt over his head and tugged it into place. After days, weeks and months of rigidly controlling everything around him, he’d allowed himself to become the oldest and worst sort of cliché—a dad who was hopelessly attracted to the nanny. He wondered what Queen Bee would have to say about this most inconvenient turn of events.
A lot, probably.
In fairness, he’d been attracted to Madison before she’d become the nanny. He didn’t really understand it. He’d gone months without thinking about any sort of physical intimacy at all, and then just the brush of Madison’s fingertips had nearly dragged him to his knees. It defied logic. He ached for her.
He desperately wished he didn’t—then, and especially now. If forced to justify his predicament to Queen Bee, he would have said it didn’t really matter if he found his nanny attractive because nothing would come of it. Ever. His family came first, followed by his job. There was nothing left of him after that—not even enough for a brief physical encounter and certainly not enough for a relationship. That was the sad truth of the matter.
Queen Bee would probably roll her eyes and call him a liar, not that he had much stock in her opinion. Still, the thought was infuriating.
He slammed the dresser drawer shut and stalked out of the bedroom. The hallway was dark, and even though he’d been moving about the shadows of his home every single night since the twins had been born—six months of late-night feedings, six months of midnight diaper changes and bottle washing—he stubbed his toe on the baseboard as if he’d suddenly wandered into the unknown. Lost.
He cursed under his breath and limped toward the kitchen, blinking against the assault from the overhead light in the den. Something seemed off. The room was empty. Madison and the girls were nowhere to be seen, but it looked like a baby powder bomb had gone off. Just about every surface was covered with a thin layer of the stuff.
Jack sneezed three times in rapid succession. Then he shook his head in an attempt to rattle his sinuses free and sneezed again. Once he was able to fully breathe, he took a closer look at the mess. Half a dozen diapers littered the floor. Weirdly, they seemed clean. They were just sort of…mangled? Most of the self-adhesive strips were doubled over and stuck to themselves. Jack stared down at the mess and shook his head.
Clearly, Madison had never changed a diaper before. He knew the signs well. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. There was one very important difference between his situation and Madison’s, though. Jack had never insisted he’d make a great night nanny.
A darkened iPad had been abandoned in the middle of the diaper debris. He bent to pick to up, dusted the baby powder from its screen and pressed the home button. A diagram with directions for mixing baby cereal flashed to life. Jack sighed. He was almost afraid of whatever disaster awaited him in the kitchen.
Rightly so, as it turned out. The sink was full of half-empty bottles, the microwave door was open and a bowl with the hardened remains of rice cereal sat on the rotating tray. Of course. Where Madison Jules went, disaster followed. Why would he have expected anything less?
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. He was going to have to fire her. He didn’t have much of a choice, did he? The mess didn’t matter, but the implications of it most definitely did. She’d clearly never been anyone’s nanny. He’d bet good money on the notion that she’d never babysat anyone before, either.
This is what he got for thinking with his heart instead of his head and going all tender inside at the thought of Madison as a motherless little girl. Had he learned nothing from the Natalie fiasco? His heart couldn’t be trusted. It got him in trouble every time.
Not qualified.
Not qualified at all.
He was off the hook. He could go back down the hall where she was probably creating more mayhem in the twins’ bedroom and fire her right that second. Even Wade would have done the same.
For some reason he wasn’t in much of a hurry to do so. Instead, he flipped on the faucet and let the water get steaming hot. Then he went to work, washing bottles and putting them in the electric steamer, any hope of getting a proper night’s sleep lost, once and for all.
Once the kitchen was put back together, he tackled the den. Half an hour later he had baby powder in personal places he hadn’t even realized he possessed, but his home was somewhat orderly. He took out the trash, picked up Madison’s iPad and walked with purpose toward the nursery. He’d simply hand her the tablet and let her go. Surely, she’d understand. On some level, she’d probably even be relieved.
Or, she’d hate him even more. Either way, he was doing the right thing. No question.
But his footsteps slowed as his daughters’ bedroom came into view. A faint sliver of light was visible beneath the closed door, and he waited for a long moment with his hand on the doorknob, straining to hear Madison’s voice or the quiet swish of the gliding rocking chair. He heard nothing, just the hushed fury of his own heart, pounding in his chest. Too fast. Too hard.
He turned the knob as slowly and quietly as he could, then gave the door a gentle push. It opened with a muffled groan, and a thick lump formed in his throat at the sight of what he found inside.
Madison was fast asleep in the glider with a twin tucked into the crook of each elbow, his babies pressed snugly against her soft curves. Ella and Emma were dressed in their fanciest set of matching pajamas—ultrasoft white onesies scattered with tiny pink rosebuds and a profusion of pink satin ruffles. Their names were spelled out in swirling embroidery on their tiny chests, and even though Jack suspected Madison had dressed Ella in Emma’s pajamas and vice versa, he couldn’t quite bring himself to care.
He’d made the same mistake on more than one occasion, and it hardly seemed like something to complain about because his girls looked perfectly content, perfectly happy. Moonlight poured in through the big picture window, bathing their sweet faces in silvery light. Ella’s fist wrapped tight around one of Madison’s slender fingers, and Emma made the snuffling little lamb noises that she only made when she was in her very best mood.
This. Jack swallowed hard. This is what matters most.
Not the baby powder explosion, not the mess, not even the learning curve. Connection mattered. Love mattered. And if there was even the possibility that his daughters might find that with Madison, who was he to take it away?
He opened the YouTube browser on the iPad, clicked on a medley of lullabies and placed the tablet gently on the table beside the glider. He studied Madison’s features—so damned beautiful, like something out of a dream in the lavender light of the full moon. Who are you? he wondered. Who are you, really? What strange twist of fate had brought him such an inexperienced nanny, and why did he want so badly for her to stay?
It was late, and he was suddenly tired again. Maybe more tired than he’d ever been, so he snuck out of the room and walked the quiet, lonely path back toward his bed.
And for the first night in a very long time, Jack Cole slept like a baby.