by Teri Wilson
“What do you mean you don’t live here?” he asked in a wooden voice he hardly recognized as his own.
“Well, I do, but I don’t.” Her eyebrows squished together like she was trying to make sense of her own words.
Join the club. Jack’s jaw clenched. “I’m not following.”
“I’m a fashion journalist. I’m just here working at the Bee and staying with my aunt until I get an offer to move back to New York,” she said, sounding wholly unconvinced. Still, this news was an unexpected arrow straight to Jack’s heart. “I guess I thought you knew that. I mean, it’s no secret that I don’t exactly fit in here.”
His first instinct was to automatically agree since he’d had the same thought nearly every day he’d known her. But somewhere between nearly burning down her aunt’s barn, reading Vogue aloud to his six-month-old daughters and all her ridiculous listicles for the Bee, she’d made a place for herself in Lovestruck. He couldn’t imagine his hometown without her, but apparently, she had one foot out the door. Just like someone else whose departure had turned his life completely upside down.
Not all women are like Natalie, you know.
Wade had said those exact words to Jack on the very day he’d met Madison, and somewhere in the dark pit of his heart, he knew they were true. But he couldn’t think straight in the wake of the bomb Madison had just dropped. His chest felt impossibly tight all of a sudden, like he couldn’t catch a full breath.
She’s right. The realization hit him with the devastating force of a five-alarm fire. This would never work.
What had he been thinking? That one near miss of a kiss meant he could let his guard down? It seemed laughable now. He couldn’t do this. Ever. He couldn’t invite someone into his life—into his daughters’ lives—only to have her pull a disappearing act.
“I wish you would have told me you were only in Lovestruck temporarily back when I hired you,” he said tersely.
Hypocrite much?
She wasn’t the only one withholding information—he was still keeping the biggest secret of all. But what did it matter now?
It matters, you fool. You know it does.
“It’s not like I’ve got fashion editors beating my door down. I haven’t gotten a single job offer since I’ve been here, and lately I’ve been thinking that maybe...” Her voice drifted off as she studied his expression, and then she crossed her arms—a barrier between them. “Never mind. You’re right. I’m leaving the first chance I get.”
He nodded. “Great.”
“Great,” she echoed, and Jack wasn’t sure which one of them sounded more miserable.
“You know what? It seems nice and peaceful around here.” Madison cast a wistful glance toward Emma and Ella’s room, and Jack’s gut hardened because he knew exactly what was coming. “I don’t think you need me tonight. In fact, maybe it would be easier if I go ahead and quit.”
She stared daggers at him, but beneath the sudden fury in her gaze, her big doe eyes shimmered with hurt.
This was the moment for Jack to make things right, once and for all. If ever there was a time for honesty, it was now. He knew he was being unfair—dragging his past baggage around and dumping it at Madison’s stiletto-clad feet. If he had half a brain, he’d fall to his knees, tell her the truth and beg her forgiveness.
He definitely couldn’t let her resign. The last thing he wanted was for her to quit. He’d convinced her to stay once, and he simply needed to do it again.
But in the end, whatever ceremony of words would fix the mess he’d made simply wouldn’t come fast enough. Madison Jules wasn’t waiting around for him to talk her into staying this time. She grabbed her overnight bag, turned on her stylish heel and walked right out the door.
Down the hall, Emma and Ella began crying in unison, almost as if they knew.
Chapter Eleven
Dear Editor,
This is my final letter. Please let Queen Bee know she’s free to write whatever she likes, and I’ll withhold any future commentary. Any attempts by the Lovestruck Bee or a certain morning show to identify me are entirely unwelcome.
It’s over. I apologize for any hurt I’ve caused Ms. Jules.
Sincerely,
Fired Up in Lovestruck
“Do you want to talk about it?” Wade said as he tossed a wet, soapy sponge at Jack the following morning in the front drive of the fire station.
“Not particularly.” Jack slapped the sponge against bright red steel.
The two of them were on truck-washing duty while Cap and Brody had been tasked with the less envious job of household cleaning. There wasn’t a fireman in the world who preferred scrubbing toilets and shower stalls to cleaning the rig, particularly on a sunny summer morning when a cool breeze was blowing in from Green Mountain. The flag above the firehouse flapped in the wind, and bubbles rose from the big bucket of suds next to the ladder truck, floating down Main Street in an iridescent parade.
It was an especially lovely morning in Lovestruck, in stark contrast to the less than lovely thoughts spinning round Jack’s mind. And no, he most decidedly did not want to talk about it.
But Wade being Wade wasn’t about to let it go. “I saw your letter in the paper this morning. I’m guessing this means you haven’t told Madison that you’re her secret nemesis?”
“Correct.” Jack scrubbed hard at an invisible spot on the wheel hub. Couldn’t Wade see he was busy? “Nor do I intend to. I told you—she’s not taking care of the girls anymore. She’s got her sights set on a big important job in Manhattan. There’s no longer any point in setting the record straight. That letter was closure, my friend.”
“Closure. Got it.” Wade dunked a second sponge into the bucket and got to work scrubbing beside Jack. “It’s kind of crazy that she turned out to be Queen Bee, though. All this time you’ve been writing letters to your night nanny. What are the odds?”
Jack sighed. He couldn’t wait for the day when Wade found someone he was seriously interested in. And that day would surely come, even though for the time being, Wade seemed intent on dating every available woman in Lovestruck. Jack knew Wade, though. Deep down, he was a teddy bear. When he eventually fell for a woman, he’d fall harder and deeper than anyone Jack had ever met. Jack planned on hounding him night and day about it, turnabout being fair play and all. He knew his friend was only trying to help, but couldn’t they discuss sports for once? He’d bite the bullet and join a summer fantasy football league if it would stop the Madison interrogations.
“It’s an awful strange coincidence. That’s all I’m saying.” Wade covered his eyes with his hand and squinted at him in the sunlight. “Some might even call it fate.”
Jack arched a brow. “You already did—just the other day at the library, remember?”
“That’s right, I did. And that was before I even knew she was Queen Bee.” Wade shook his head. “Damn, I’m good.”
Jack couldn’t help but laugh, despite the complete lack of humor in the situation. “Forget it, man. I meant what I said in the letter. It’s over.”
His heart was having a little trouble catching up with his head; that was all. He’d started dreaming about her again—the way she’d risen up on her tiptoes just to be closer to him, the way her soft, innocent eyes turned to liquid fire when she was angry or aroused, that perfectly impertinent little mouth of hers. Madison was a challenge—a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out—and God help him, it was one of the things he loved best about her.
The dream had seemed so real that he’d woken up, climbed out of bed and expected to find her down the hall in the twins’ room, rocking his daughters to sleep. Then he spotted the empty rocking chair, and he remembered that the only thing waiting up for him in the dead of night now was a crushing sense of regret. Even worse, he’d finally opened the shopping bags that Madison had left behind and they’d both been filled with gifts for E
mma and Ella from her trip to New York. She’d shopped for his girls while she’d been away, and he hadn’t even been able to tell her the simple truth about who he really was.
He’d done the right thing, though. It was better to end things now, before they really started, than to wait until her bags were packed for good.
“She’s planning on leaving,” he said quietly and focused all his attention on the soapy swirls his sponge made on the fire engine’s surface.
He didn’t want to see the look on Wade’s face. Wade was the one person in his life who would understand just how the idea of Madison moving away would make him feel. It was a light switch flipping off. He’d barely even begun to allow himself to want something more with her.
And now?
Now he’d found out she was Queen Bee and that she’d never intended on staying in Lovestruck, both on the same day. It was too much.
Except if he was really being honest with himself, the light she’d somehow managed to rekindle in him hadn’t switched off. Not really. It still burned bright, and despite his years of experience fighting fires, he had no idea how to extinguish it.
Wade grew still. Out of the corner of Jack’s eye, he could see his friend’s hand, motionless, as soapy water dripped down from the sponge in his hand and pooled onto the ground in a dingy gray puddle.
“What do you mean she’s planning on leaving?” he finally said.
“She’s only here temporarily. She never intended to stay. She had a big job writing for a fashion magazine in New York, and now she’s just biding her time in Lovestruck until she can go back.” Honestly, it explained so much, particularly some of her more questionable columns. Not to mention her shoes. He really should have seen it coming—of all the people in the world, Jack should have known.
“But there’s no specific end date?”
“No,” Jack said. He wished there were. The sooner, the better, so he could get his life back on safe, solid track.
Wade shrugged. “It sounds to me like you’re getting all worked up about something that hasn’t even happened yet just so you can avoid the real problem.”
Jack didn’t have to ask him what that real problem might be. He knew. The sight of his stack of handwritten letters splashed across his television screen was impossible to forget, as was the talk show host’s parting words.
Fired Up in Lovestruck, come out of hiding. The world wants to know who you are!
“You might have a point.” He cursed under his breath. He felt like he had a target on his back and any moment a television news crew might pop out from behind the nearest bush and shove a camera in his face. “But what if she does it? What if she gets the job offer of a lifetime and leaves Lovestruck without a backward glance?”
“I think you’re asking yourself the wrong questions, man.” Wade tilted his head back and looked up at the cloudless blue sky, then offered Jack a knowing grin. “What if she stays? What then?”
* * *
Mr. Grant and the staff at the Bee were so thrilled with Madison’s Good Morning Sunshine appearance that they threw her a literal party. After the argument with Jack the night before, she’d sort of hoped to sneak into work the following morning, dash off a column and spend the rest of her day emailing contacts in New York. She wasn’t sure how or why she’d let her job search completely stall in the past couple of weeks, but that ended now.
Jack had done her a favor by accepting her resignation this time around. Now she’d have plenty of time to follow up on the two measly Skype interviews she’d had since moving to Lovestruck and to send messages to the various editors she’d worked with over the years. Thanks to her Good Morning Sunshine appearance, people who she’d never been able to get on the phone might actually take her calls. The next time she saw Jack, she should probably thank him for letting her quit and reminding her where her true priorities lay. Truly, she should. And she would...
But first, she had to deal with the giant black-and-yellow balloon bouquet on her desk and a sheet cake decorated with a buttercream bumblebee and the words Congratulations Queen Bee spelled out in yellow frosting.
“You did good, Madison. I’m proud of you,” Mr. Grant said as he juggled a paper plate sagging beneath a brick of vanilla cake. “All of Lovestruck is proud of you.”
Madison doubted it. She could think of a couple exceptions right off the top of her head—Jack, for one. And her trusty old adversary Fired Up in Lovestruck for another.
“Thank you,” she said. “I guess I thought you might be disappointed that it’s all over.”
“What’s over? Oh, you mean the latest letter?” Mr. Grant waved his fork at her. “Don’t you worry about that. You just keep courting him and he’ll come back around.”
“Keep courting him?” Gross.
Her boss shook his head as he swallowed a bite of cake. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just, you know, write another article that might bring him back out of the woodwork. Everyone in America is reading the Bee right now. We have to strike while the iron is hot.”
“Super,” she mumbled, and then she slinked back to her desk and wrote some nonsense about the top ten humorous onesies on the market for infants while her own plate of cake grew hard and stale. She just didn’t feel much like celebrating, and she didn’t even crack a smile at the number-one onesie on her list—Party in the Crib.
The feud with Fired Up in Lovestruck had never been her idea of fun, but now trying to lure him back into writing a letter to the editor was complete and total misery, possibly because she was beginning to think that Jack hadn’t done her a favor, after all. He might have even broken her heart.
All morning she’d been timing her trips to the printer just right, so she could catch sight of him at the station across the street during his morning equipment check. She took her pages from the printer tray one by one and pressed the warm paper to her heart while she craned her neck for the odd glimpse of him going over the massive engine with a soft yellow cloth, buffing it until it glistened like a shiny red apple.
She told herself she was only acting like a creepy stalker because she wanted to make sure Jack was okay. It didn’t take a genius to know why he’d reacted so badly to her casual reference to moving back to New York. In that moment she’d reminded him of his ex. She’d seen it in the way the color had drained right out of his face, and the second the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to reel them back in. She hadn’t even been sure if she’d meant them—everything had been so confusing lately.
But did it even matter why he’d gone so pale? He didn’t want her in the same way she wanted him. He’d made that clear before she’d said a word about leaving Lovestruck. She couldn’t believe she’d nearly tried to kiss him. How could she have misread the situation so badly? Jack had said some nice things to her, and she’d taken them purely out of context. After being his night nanny for just a handful of days, she’d gotten caught up in the fantasy of playing house with him and the twins.
And now it had stopped. She had her life back, thank goodness. No more sleep deprivation. No more dragging herself into work at the paper after taking care of infant twins for half the night. No more getting to the office only to discover she had spit-up on her clothes.
No more Jack Cole.
“You dropped another stitch, dear,” Aunt Alice said, hovering over Madison’s shoulder at knitting class later that evening. Toby stood at her feet, wagging his skinny little tail with just a puff of hair on the end and gazing at Madison in silent judgment.
“I know.” Madison struggled with another simple garter stitch. Jack’s mother was seated right beside her, and she wanted so badly to ask Sarah how he and the twins were doing that she could barely concentrate on her needles and yarn.
“Do you want me to fix it for you?” Alice held out a hand.
“No, thank you.” Madison examined her sloppy baby bootie in progress. “I’ve
grown rather attached to the idea of finishing this project all on my own, even if it’s kind of a mess.”
I find all your imperfections utterly perfect. Jack’s voice rang in her head like a bell, and she had to bite down hard on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from tearing up.
Great. She’d managed to get through the entire day in one piece, and now she was going to lose it in front of Sarah Cole.
“I think you’re doing a lovely job,” Sarah said, looking up from her neat, even rows of knitting.
“Thank you,” Madison managed to say around the lump in her throat. “I’m not exactly a knitter. I probably should have started with something more basic.”
Then again, the only reason she’d joined this class was to meet some poor, unsuspecting babies she could exploit for her job. God, she was a terrible person.
Sarah offered her a sympathetic smile. “You’re fine. It’s not until we really challenge ourselves and jump right in that we realize what we’re capable of, right?”
“Exactly right.” Aunt Alice nodded as she took her seat again on the other side of Madison. “And the more you try and control the outcome, the more trouble you’ll have. See your nice section of stitches by the toe?”
She pointed her knitting needle at a few neat rows of loosely connected garter stitches in the middle of Madison’s half-finished project.
“I guess that part doesn’t look so terrible,” Madison conceded.
“That’s because you loosened your grip on the yarn when you were knitting that section. Are your hands hurting right now?” Her aunt arched a brow.
Madison’s hands were indeed aching. “A little.”
“You’ve got to let go, sweetie.” Alice winked.
Madison glanced back and forth between Alice and Sarah. The other students sitting around the table kept on knitting, their needles making rhythmic clacking sounds that had become oddly soothing to Madison since she’d moved in with her aunt.
