Checked Out – Lena Cove
CHECKED OUT
LENA COVE
Stella
Wrangling three kids into the library should qualify as an Olympic event.
Rosie (five, stubborn, and obsessed with princesses), Theo (three, energetic, and prone to sudden escape attempts), and Mia (one, currently teething and furious about it) are my charges, and as much as I love them, getting them through the doors without losing one is a miracle every single week.
"Rosie, hold Theo’s hand. Theo, do not run toward the stairs. Mia, sweetheart, I know you hate everything right now, but if you hold on, we’ll be inside in a second?—"
The blessed whoosh of the library’s automatic doors saves me, and suddenly, we’re inside the cool, book-scented sanctuary.
Storytime at the Westwood Public Library is the highlight of our Thursday mornings.
It keeps the kids entertained, helps them burn off energy, and—most importantly—gives me ten whole minutes to pretend I’m not a human jungle gym.
If I’m being really honest? There’s another reason I look forward to Storytime—Holden Langston , the children’s librarian, the ridiculously handsome children’s librarian.
As I lead the kids toward the children’s section, my eyes find him instantly.
It’s impossible not to. He’s standing near the Storytime rug, flipping through a book, his long fingers moving over the pages with a kind of reverence that makes something in my stomach flip.
His brown hair is slightly tousled, like he’s been running his hands through it all morning, and his sharp, literary-hero features are softened by the way he’s smiling at a toddler tugging on his pant leg.
It should be illegal to be that attractive.
I force myself to look away, focusing instead on getting the kids settled.
Rosie plops onto the carpet eagerly, smoothing out her sparkly pink dress.
Theo flops dramatically beside her. Mia, securely strapped to my chest in the baby carrier, lets out a tiny sigh of resignation. Even she knows resisting is futile.
And then Holden speaks. "Good morning, everyone. Who’s ready for a story?"
Oh. I know this is ridiculous, but the man’s voice should come with a warning label.
It’s deep and smooth, like something out of an old-school radio drama, with just enough rasp to make a woman weak in the knees.
I have heard this man read The Very Hungry Caterpillar and somehow make it sound suggestive. It’s not fair.
He holds up today’s book, Where the Wild Things Are , and smiles. "This one’s a classic. Let’s see how wild we can get."
A few of the kids giggle. My brain, meanwhile, is currently melting.
I will not make eye contact. I will not think about how good he looks in that fitted gray sweater. I will not let my stupid, book-loving heart get carried away. Then he starts reading, and I stare.
It’s not my fault. Holden Langston doesn’t just read stories—he performs them.
His voice dips and rises, full of mischief and charm, bringing the words to life in a way that makes even the adults lean in.
The kids are enthralled. Rosie’s practically glowing with excitement, Theo is sitting stone still, and Mia, who was on the verge of a meltdown earlier, is now sucking on her thumb and watching him like he’s the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen.
Yeah, kid. I get it.
By the time the story ends, I’m not entirely sure what I’ve been doing for the past ten minutes, but judging by the knowing smirk Holden shoots me as he closes the book, I have a feeling he knows I was staring.
Fantastic.
"All right, that’s it for today!" Holden announces, clapping the book shut. "But don’t forget—next week, we’re reading about dragons, and I expect everyone to bring their best dragon roars. Deal?"
A chorus of tiny voices shouts, "Roar!" as the kids scramble up from the carpet.
I gather my crew, helping Rosie adjust her dress and making sure Theo hasn’t pocketed any rogue books (he’s done it before). As I turn to leave, I suddenly realize Holden is right there, crouching down to Theo’s level with an easy grin.
"Hey, buddy," he says. "Did you like the story?"
Theo nods vigorously. "Max was so cool!"
"He was cool," Holden agrees, then lowers his voice conspiratorially. "But you know who’s even cooler? People who listen to their nannies."
Theo gasps, eyes wide. "Really?"
Holden winks. "Absolutely."
I bite my lip to keep from laughing. Theo, thoroughly impressed, nods like he’s just been let in on some great cosmic truth. Rosie, not one to be left out, tugs on my sleeve.
"Miss Stella, you don’t have a boyfriend, right?"
My entire body freezes.
Holden’s eyebrows lift in obvious interest as I clear my throat, my cheeks going nuclear. "Uh, nope. That’s… that’s true."
Rosie beams and turns to Holden. "You should be Miss Stella’s boyfriend! I heard Miss Stella say that you have such nice hair."
Oh my God .
Holden chuckles, clearly enjoying my slow descent into mortification. He stands up, slipping his hands into his pockets as he considers it, his gaze flicking to mine, amused. "Well, I do appreciate a direct approach."
I let out a strangled laugh. "I am so sorry. She has no filter."
"I like that about her," he says easily, then leans in slightly. "And, for the record, I’ll take the compliment on my hair."
My stomach flips. He’s flirting with me. I’ve never seen Holden flirting with the other nannies or mothers.
Theo tugs on my arm. "Miss Stella, can we get a snack now? I’m so hungry."
Saved by toddler hunger. I take the out, offering Holden a small, probably-too-flustered smile. "Thanks for Storytime. The kids loved it. See you next week?"
His eyes linger on mine for half a second longer than necessary before he smiles. "Looking forward to it."
As I herd the kids toward the door, my mind is racing. Did that just happen? Did Holden Langston flirt with me? Or am I reading too much into it?
I glance back over my shoulder one last time. Holden is still standing there, watching me go, a thoughtful look on his face.
Maybe, just maybe, this Storytime is about to get a lot more interesting.
HOLDEN
Storytime has always been my favorite part of the week, but today, I’m distracted. Not by the usual toddler chaos or the occasional rogue kid who decides mid-story that sitting still is for losers.
No, today my distraction comes in the form of Stella Vale—the nanny who has been showing up to my Storytime for months, who wrangles three kids like a pro, who always smiles like she enjoys this part of her day.
She’s beautiful, sure. That much is obvious.
But she’s fun, too. She makes silly faces at Theo when he gets restless, whispers dramatic gasps at the best parts of the story just to make Rosie giggle, and somehow manages to rock a screaming Mia in her arms while paying attention to the book. I have no idea how she does it.
I’ve noticed her before. Of course I have. But today, for some reason, I really notice her.
I settle into the big reading chair at the front of the Storytime circle and hold up the book for the kids to see. "Okay, everyone! Today we’re reading Dragons Love Tacos ! Who here loves tacos?"
A dozen tiny hands shoot into the air, including Theo’s, who practically jumps off the carpet in excitement.
"Tacos are my favorite!" Theo shouts.
I grin. "Same, buddy. But do you know what happens when dragons eat spicy salsa?"
The kids all lean in, their eyes wide with curiosity.
"They breathe fire!" Rosie yells, her little face full of dramatic horror.
"That’s right!" I give her an approving nod before launching into the story, using my most dramatic voices.
When the dragons panic and start setting everything on fire, I wave my hands like flames, making the kids squeal with laughter.
Even Stella is laughing, shaking her head at my antics, and I swear my chest feels lighter.
When the story wraps up, I close the book with a flourish and say, "Alright, that’s it for today! But don’t forget—next week, we’re reading about pirates, and I expect everyone to bring their best pirate voices."
The kids erupt into excited chatter, practicing their "Arrr, mateys!" as they scramble up from the carpet. I watch as Stella helps Theo put his shoes back on, her touch gentle, her patience endless.
I should walk away, let her do her job, but I don’t.
Instead, I take a deep breath and step toward her. "So, how many kids do you wrangle daily? Just these three, or do you have an entire army somewhere?"
She laughs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Just these three. I’ve been their nanny for almost two years now. I started when their mom was pregnant with Mia."
“You’re so good with them. I kinda think you might be a superhero.”
She smirks. "I mean, I won’t argue with that."
Damn, she’s cute.
I should walk away. I should leave it at that. Instead, I rub the back of my neck and say, "Hey, after Storytime next week, would you want to grab a coffee? No pressure. I’d like to get to know you without an audience of toddlers."
Her eyes widen slightly, and for a second, I think she’s going to say no. But then she bites her lip, tilts her head, and gives me a small, teasing smile. "Next week? Do you need a whole week to work up the courage to talk to me one-on-one?"
I chuckle, shaking my head. "Busted."
She laughs, and it’s the best sound I’ve heard all day. "Okay. Coffee sounds nice."
I grin. "Looking forward to it."
As she gathers the kids and heads out the door, I realize two things: One, I’m in so much trouble, and two, next Thursday can’t come fast enough.
STELLA
I spend the entire week overanalyzing everything. Is it a date? Or is it just coffee? It’s just coffee, I tell myself at least a hundred times, but that doesn’t stop my stomach from twisting every time I think about it.
Holden—the devastatingly handsome librarian with a voice that could make a grocery list sound seductive—asked me to coffee. No toddlers, no distractions. Just us.
Oh god, it’s a date, isn’t it?