Laura Marie - The Seal's Second Chance Baby

“I’m sure I did...” Mabel ducked into the hall bathroom to fluff her white hair. “Now, hurry. I don’t want to be late.”

“For the record, you must have been talking to angels, since you sure never ran any of this past me.”

“Watch your sass, or I’ll downgrade you from maid of honor to punch bowl attendant.”

Effie rolled her eyes.

Under the best of circumstances, prepping Cassidy and all of her gear was never easy, but on short notice? The task was darn near impossible. By the time Effie swapped comfy jeans and a T-shirt for a sundress and wrestled the baby into a cute yellow gingham romper, her fifteen minutes had ticked to five. After loading the diaper bag, stroller, carrier and her purse in the back of the minivan, then plopping the baby into her safety seat, Effie was not only exhausted, but ten minutes off schedule.

She slid behind the wheel, relieved to have at least made it into the car.

“Couldn’t you have at least tried doing something with your hair?” Mabel cast a dour glance in Effie’s general direction. “I don’t want Wallace thinking he’s marrying into a bunch of hillbillies.”

Overheated, Effie turned on the engine and AC before yanking down the visor to peer into the lighted mirror. Good grief. The ponytail she’d slept on hung sideways with more hair out than in. For added flavor, compliments of Colt, there was oatmeal just over her right ear. Effie said a quick prayer for his teacher, Mrs. Logan. She’d need all the help she could get to hog-tie him to his desk.

“Is this better?” Effie asked after yanking out her elastic, only to smooth her hair back and work it back in.

Mabel frowned. “I like it better down. And when you add a bit of curl. For sure wear it that way at the wedding. I don’t want it looking bad for pictures.”

It was official. Her normally sane grandmother had turned into Bridezilla.

* * *

“THERE’S MY BLUSHING BRIDE.”

While Effie struggled into the crowded café with Cassidy on her hip and the diaper bag over her shoulder, Mabel glided to where her groom sat at a table loaded with rowdy geriatrics Effie recognized from the Grange Hall, where she drove her grandmother most Saturday nights. Funny how she hadn’t noticed Wallace, too. Had Mabel deliberately kept her distance?

Mabel and Wallace shared a brief embrace and kiss, then he pulled out a chair for her alongside his.

“Hope you don’t mind,” he said to Effie, “but there’s no more room here, so I figured you could sit with Marsh.” He nodded to the room’s far corner, where his grandson glowered over a mug of coffee.

Effie opened her mouth to tell him that as a matter of fact, she very much minded, but the group of three women and four men was too loud for her voice to have even been heard. Resigned to her fate, she lugged the baby a little farther.

As if the whole town was relieved school was back in session, honky-tonk played on the jukebox. Laughter and high-spirited conversations rose above the music. The scents of strong coffee and bacon and the café’s famous cinnamon rolls had Effie’s stomach growling.

“Are you as sick of this wedding as I am?” she asked upon reaching Marsh’s table.

“Oh, hey. Yes.” He jumped up to help her with Cassidy’s bag. “Welcome to the kids’ table. I wouldn’t be surprised if the waitress shows up with a pair of smiley-face pancakes.”

“I know, right?” The brief brush of the back of his hand against her shoulder had her fighting a flutter of awareness low in her belly. Gracious, he was a looker. He hadn’t shaved, and if possible, when he politely removed his cowboy hat, his hair looked even worse than hers.

She’d always had a thing for untamed cowboys.

Case in point—her no-good ex.

Once she’d sat herself in a chair, her cell on the table and Cassidy on her lap, Marsh asked the waitress to bring a high chair, than slapped his hat back on.

“Thank you,” Effie said, relieved to duck behind the laminated menu. When the waitress returned with the high chair, Effie hefted Cassidy in, then ordered hot tea and a cheese omelet with hash browns.

“Question,” Marsh said once they were alone. “Do you remember hearing anything about this meeting yesterday afternoon?”

Laughing, Effie shook her head. “I walked my boys to the school bus, thinking Cassidy and I had the whole day to ourselves, only to learn I was wrong.”

“Sorry.” Marsh sipped his coffee.

“Why should you apologize? I assume you had better things to do this morning, too.”

“True—no offense.”

“None taken.” She fished the baby’s favorite rubber whale teething toy from the diaper bag and set it on the high chair’s tray. “This engagement happened so fast. The wedding’s the third week in October. My head is spinning.”

The waitress came and went with her tea. Effie added plenty of sugar.

“What if we divide and conquer?”

Effie wrinkled her nose. “You mean like Mabel and I handle flowers and you and your grandfather tackle beer and wine?”

“Exactly.” He leaned in. “You have no more time or desire to be around me than I have to be around you. This way, we make Wallace and Mabel happy without the two of us being miserable. Sound like a plan?”

“Sure.”

The waitress arrived with their meals, and Effie dived in, closing her eyes while savoring the gooey cheese.

But upon glancing into Marsh’s hooded, dead-sexy gaze only to realize she wasn’t miserable, she swallowed and then froze. What had she just agreed to? It wasn’t as if she craved seeing the guy, but now that she’d lugged Cassidy and her gear into the real world outside her grandmother’s modest home, she recognized that along with the café’s food being far tastier than her own, she’d been tapping her toe to the lively music. Her baby girl grinned from all the neighboring diners’ waves and silly faces.

Marsh might have admitted he was miserable, but she was far from it. Breakfast out was actually kind of a fun treat.

As for the view across the table? Whew...

Even brooding, Marsh Langtree’s chiseled features were ridiculously easy on the eyes. Proven by the fact that she wasn’t the only woman staring. How could his wife have left him? He seemed like a stand-up guy. Why had the death of their son driven them apart instead of bringing them closer?

Her cell rang.

One glance at the caller ID snapped her from her thoughts—Admiral Byrd Elementary.

“Need to get that?” Marsh asked.

“Unfortunately.” What had Colt done? Dipped a girl’s braids in paint? Freed the occupants of the teacher’s hamster cage or ant farm? Effie steeled herself for the worst. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Washington? I’m sorry to bother you, but—” Effie recognized the voice of Samantha, the school office clerk.

“What did Colt do?”

Samantha laughed. “Actually, nothing. The twins’ teacher just wanted me to see if you’re available next Thursday for a brief field trip. The kids are learning about money, so they’ll be walking to the bank at the end of our block. Mrs. Logan is desperate for volunteers.”

“Please tell her I’d be happy to help.” Effie released the breath she’d been holding.

“Perfect. I’ll let her know.”

Upon disconnecting, Effie couldn’t help but smile.

“Good news?” Marsh asked.

“In a roundabout way.” She skimmed her palm over Cassidy’s soft blond curls. “My twins are a handful—well, mostly Colt. He’s oldest by three minutes, and always in trouble. This school year couldn’t have come at a better time, as I’m in sore need of a parental breather. Anyway, during kindergarten, I got far more calls than I would have liked from the boys’ teacher, and with today being the first day of school, I saw the caller ID and assumed the worst.”