Baby Talk and Wedding Bells

“I’ll definitely look forward to those.”

The old man finally moved toward the elevator and Braden stepped forward. “Miss MacKinnon?”

She turned toward him, and he saw that her eyes weren’t green, after all, but a dark chocolate brown and fringed with even darker lashes.

“Good morning,” she said. “How can I help you?”

“I’m here for...Baby Talk?”

Her mouth curved, drawing his attention to her full, glossy lips. “Are you sure?”

“Not entirely,” he admitted, shifting his gaze to meet hers again. “Am I in the right place?”

“You are,” she confirmed. “Baby Talk is in the Bronte Room on the upper level at ten.”

He glanced at the clock on the wall, saw that it wasn’t yet nine thirty. “I guess we’re a little early.”

“Downstairs in the children’s section, there’s a play area with puzzles and games, a puppet theater and a train table.”

“Choo-choo,” Saige urged.

Miss MacKinnon glanced down at his daughter and smiled. “Although if you go there now, you might have trouble tearing your daughter away. You like the trains, don’t you, Saige?”

She nodded, her head bobbing up and down with enthusiasm.

Braden’s brows lifted. He was surprised—and a little disconcerted—to discover that this woman knew something about his daughter that he didn’t. “Obviously she spends more time here than I realized.”

“Your mom brings her twice a week.”

“Well, since you know my mother and Saige, I guess I should introduce myself—I’m Braden Garrett.”

She accepted the hand he offered. He noted that hers was soft, but her grip firm. “Cassie MacKinnon.”

“Are you really the librarian?” he heard himself ask.

“One of them,” she said.

“When I think of librarians, I think of Miss Houlahan.”

“So do I,” she told him. “In fact, she’s the reason I chose to become a librarian.”

“We must be thinking of different Miss Houlahans,” he decided.

“Perhaps,” she allowed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on something upstairs.”

“Something upstairs” sounded rather vague to Braden, and he got the strange feeling that he was being brushed off. Or maybe he was reading too much into those two words. After all, this was a library and she was the librarian—no doubt there were any number of “somethings” she had to do, although he couldn’t begin to imagine what they might be.

As she walked away, Braden found himself admiring the curve of her butt and the sway of her hips and thinking that he might have spent a lot more time in the library as a kid if there had been a librarian like Miss MacKinnon to help him navigate the book stacks.

Chapter Two (#ulink_d40bda9a-38d7-5a18-a1f3-3506e11f3be9)

By the time he managed to drag Saige away from the trains and find the Bronte Room, there were several other parents and children already there—along with Cassie MacKinnon. Apparently one of the “somethings” that she did at the library was lead the stories, songs and games at Baby Talk.

She nodded to him as he entered the room and gestured to an empty place in the circle. “Have a seat,” she invited.

Except there were no seats. All of the moms—and yes, they were all moms, there wasn’t another XY chromosome anywhere to be found, unless it was tucked away in a diaper—were sitting on the beige Berber carpet. He lowered himself to the floor, certain he looked as awkward as he felt as he attempted to cross his legs.

“Did you bring your pillow, Mr. Garrett?”

“Pillow?” he echoed. His mother hadn’t said anything about a pillow, but when he looked around, he saw that all of the moms had square pillows underneath their babies.

“I’ve got an extra that you can borrow,” she said, opening a cabinet to retrieve a big pink square with an enormous daisy embroidered on it.

He managed not to grimace as he thanked her and set the pillow on the floor, then sat Saige down on top of it. She immediately began to clap her hands, excited to begin.

Ellen had told him that Baby Talk was for infants up to eighteen months of age, and looking around, he guessed that his daughter was one of the oldest in the room. A quick glance confirmed that the moms were of various ages, as well. The one thing they had in common: they were all checking out the lone male in the room.

He focused on Cassie, eager to get the class started and finished.

What he learned during the thirty-minute session was that the librarian had a lot more patience than he did. Even when there were babies crying, she continued to read or sing in the same soothing tone. About halfway through the session, she took a bin of plastic instruments out of the cupboard and passed it around so the babies could jingle bells or pound on drums or bang sticks together. Of course, the kids had a lot more enthusiasm than talent—his daughter included—and by the time they were finished, Braden could feel a headache brewing.

“That was a great effort today,” Cassie told them, and he breathed a grateful sigh of relief that they were done. “I’ll see you all next week, and please don’t forget the Book & Bake Sale on the fifteenth—any and all donations of gently used books are appreciated.”

Despite the class being dismissed, none of the moms seemed to be in a hurry to leave, instead continuing to chat with one another about feeding schedules and diaper rashes and teething woes. Braden just wanted to be gone but Saige had somehow managed to pull off her shoes, forcing him to stay put long enough to untie the laces, put the shoes back on her feet and tie them up again.

While he was preoccupied with this task, the woman who had been seated on his left shifted closer. “I’m Heather Turcotte. And this—” she jiggled the baby in her lap “—is Katie.”

“Braden Garrett,” he told her, confident that she already knew his daughter.

“You’re a brave man to subject yourself to a baby class full of women,” she said, then smiled at him.

“I’m only here today because my mom had an appointment.”

“That’s too bad. It would be nice to have another single parent in the group,” she told him. “Most of these women don’t have a clue how hard it is to raise a child on their own. Of course, I didn’t know, either, until I had Katie. All through my pregnancy, I was so certain that I could handle this. But the idea of a baby is a lot different than the reality.”

“That’s true,” he agreed, only half listening to her as he worked Saige’s shoes back onto her feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cassie talking to one of the other moms and cleaning the instruments with antibacterial wipes, which made him feel a little bit better about the bells that his daughter had been chewing on.

“Of course, it helps that I have a flexible schedule at work,” Heather was saying. “As I’m sure you do, considering that your name is on the company letterhead.”

“There are benefits to working for a family business,” he agreed.

Cassie waved goodbye to the other woman and her baby, then carried the bin of instruments to the cupboard.

“Such as being able to take a little extra time to grab a cup of coffee now?” Heather suggested hopefully.

He forced his attention back to her, inwardly wincing at the hopeful expression on her face. “Sorry, I really do need to get to the office.”

She pouted, much like his daughter did when she didn’t get what she wanted, but the look wasn’t nearly as cute on a grown woman who had a daughter of her own.