by Lori Wilde
They stood watching until the car was out of sight, and then Becky held the baby out so she could see her face and said, “Well, little Lucy, just who in the world is your daddy?”
Lucy gurgled, half giggle, half spit bubble.
“Oh, you’re keeping it a secret, huh? Are you intending on being a top-notch spy when you grow up?” she teased.
“Da.”
“Yep. That’s the question. Who’s your daddy?”
But Becky had a sinking feeling that she knew exactly who this baby belonged to. Those bright-blue eyes surely came from the same gene pool as a certain macho detective.
5
She didn’t want to be awake.
Becky pulled the sheet over her head and curled into her favorite going-back-to-sleep position, determined not to be dislodged by a few of Ozzie’s yowls. Wise to her cat’s ploy for attention, she wasn’t going to jump out of bed just because her pampered feline felt like playing.
Unfortunately, her wonderful dream faded away, forgotten as the noise persisted. She rolled to the edge of the bed, exasperated.
“Oh, my gosh!”
She bolted to her feet, reality coming back in a rush. The baby, not the cat, was the source of the crying.
Lucy was still safe in the seat that doubled as a bed, but she wasn’t the contented cherub Becky had fed and changed a few hours ago.
“Hey, sweetie, don’t worry,” Becky crooned, picking up the little bundle of fury and cuddling her on her way to the kitchen. “There’s a nice bottle in the fridge with your name on it.”
Becky had babysat with her little nieces and nephews long enough to know how to heat a bottle, but she’d never had to do it at the crack of dawn with her eyelids at half-mast and her brain barely functioning.
“Five o’clock,” she moaned, staring unhappily at the digital clock on the microwave’s control panel.
She’d waited up past two a.m. for Nate to come home. If he was on the three to eleven shift, why the heck hadn’t he come home? She’d finally scurried down and left a sticky note on his door telling him she urgently needed to see him the minute he got home.
So, where was he?
It was the spider’s fault! Nate probably thought she had some inconsequential crisis not worth checking on immediately.
Lucy’s gorgeous blue eyes were reproachful, so Becky quickly changed her before giving her the bottle, bagging the discarded diaper in a plastic garbage sack and dropping it beside the door with the two already there.
Lucy downed the bottle and nodded off, substituting her thumb for the nipple after Becky put her to rest in the car seat. Becky’s own bed beckoned. Three hours of sleep was just enough to transform her from zombie-chick.
A loud noise downstairs distracted her from her cozy bed. No one could accuse him of sneaking in quietly. She charged out to the hallway, in the mood to slay a giant.
Sounding as insistent as she could in a mocking whisper, she called out down the stairs, “Dalton, get up here right now!”
Footsteps sounded and then he appeared on the landing. “Don’t tell me you have another spider.”
He looked rumpled and weary, his dress shirt hanging out of his khaki slacks and his jacket bunched under his arm. He stared up at her with sleep-deprived eyes, his chin darkly shadowed with prickly-looking bristles.
She must’ve been temporarily deranged to tell him about the vacant apartment. Even when he looked exhausted, he was drop-dead sexy.
“No spider,” she said with exaggerated dignity, knowing self-righteousness wasn’t her style, but she was too ticked at him to play it cool. “This time it’s a two-legged rat.”
He looked puzzled but came to her door.
She enjoyed his bewilderment.
“In here,” she said, waving him into the living room.
He lumbered inside.
“Anyone you know?” She pointed to the slumbering baby.
“Lucy!”
He rushed over to the baby, his face rigid with anger or disapproval or some other negative reaction she couldn’t quite define.
So he knew the kid. No big deal to her. Maybe she had been nursing a feeble little hope that was all a ghastly mistake, a soap opera mix-up that he could clear up with a logical explanation. It didn’t matter to her if he’d fathered a dozen blue-eyed cherubs.
At least he didn’t deny knowing the baby. Admitting it showed he had some character, however flawed.
She reminded herself he was only a neighbor, and that was all she wanted him to be. She had absolutely no right to judge him or the way he lived his life.
“Why do you have my niece?” He jammed his hands onto his hips and scowled at her.
“This is your niece?” Her heart gave an erratic little hip-hop. So he wasn’t a derelict dad.
Stop it.
“Who did you think she was?” He slanted her a sideways look from weary eyes. “You thought she was mine.”
How come he looked so surprised? It was the most likely explanation.
“What was I supposed to think? Her mother dropped Lucy off on my doorstep because you weren’t home.”
“On your doorstep?” He looked ready to throttle someone, and she was the only handy scapegoat.
Becky took a step back and raise both hands. “Hyperbole. I exaggerate. Her mother rang the buzzer downstairs. I answered. I saw all those big baby blues and—”
“Put two and two together in an erroneous assumption, and you just concluded I was the father.”
Erroneous assumption? Ooh, Mr. Tough Cowboy Cop knew how to use a big word or two.
“That may have crossed my mind.” She folded her arms over her chest, annoyed because he was intimidating her again. “Look, Dalton, all I did was agree to take the baby because I worried about her. The mother seemed like…” She stopped herself from saying a basket case. “Your type.”
“My type? How do you know what my type is?”
“You know beautiful, perfect…” she said, realizing belatedly she was talking about Nate’s sister. “No, you know what? I changed my mind about your type. You deserve a lady wrestler or a tough fighter pilot who can break your arm when you get too bossy.”
Nate ducked his head and plastered his palm to his nape. “Cop instincts. I can’t always turn them off.”
Was that an apology?
“I can’t believe Freddie left Lucy with a perfect stranger.” He shook his head.
“She said she texted you.”
He groaned. “My phone got submerged—don’t ask. It’s a long, boring story. But I appreciate that you took my niece in. Thank you very much for that, but you do realize you took a big chance accepting a child from a stranger. What if I hadn’t known her?”
All she’d wanted was a simple “thank you” and here he was giving her a lecture.
“I thought of that. But come on, the baby has your eyes.”
“She’s my niece.”
“Where’s the baby’s father?” She had no intention of telling him how special his eyes were. Not just blue but sparkling pools that could mesmerize a gullible girl. But not her. No way. She was done with men who radiated sexuality like heat from the summer sun.
“My sister won’t say. Apparently, he took off right before Lucy was born seven months ago.”
“Why did your sister leave Lucy with you?”
“My parents finally took a month-long cruise they’d dreamed about for years. Anyway, I’m the one who’s always bailed her out of jams, even when she was a kid. What’d she say to you?”
“Not a lot. Oh, I forgot. She left a note.”
“Let me have it.” He was anything but soft-spoken.
“Keep your voice down, please. You’ll wake the baby. She just had her bottle.” Becky whispered just to let him know that she was in charge here.
She handed him the note, which she’d read in the wee hours waiting for him to get home. A sealed envelope was private, but how could a folded note be confidential? Anyway, it could have been somethi
ng urgent, like a ransom note or blackmail demand. That had been her excuse for snooping, anyway.
“What does it say?” she asked, feeling a bit guilty because she already knew.
“Just that she had to get away for a while to sort things out. She wants me to take care of Lucy until she gets back. There’s one part I don’t understand, though.”
“What’s that?” Becky asked, wondering if her voice sounded staged when she put on an innocent act. Subterfuge wasn’t her game. Usually she aired on the side of being too outspoken.
“She doesn’t want our mother to know that I have Lucy.” He frowned at the note as if it contained some hidden clue.
“Strange.” Becky already wondered about that part herself.
“That’s Freddie, always waving a flag for independence, especially if she can get me to take care of her problems while she’s off finding herself.”
“I wouldn’t call Lucy a problem.”
Lucy must’ve sensed that her favorite uncle was there. She opened her eyes and took one of his big, hard fingers in her chubby little fist.
“No, she’s also my godchild and I adore her, but taking care of her will be a problem. I do have to work for a living. What am I going to do about her?”
He stood and looked pointedly at Becky, but he didn’t ask what she sort of expected. Could she watch Lucy?
Why did she feel let down when he failed to suggest that? She didn’t run a babysitting service, and she didn’t want an excuse to see more of her too sexy for her own good neighbor.
“I’ll just have to figure something out,” he said, tossing his jacket on the closest chair and bending over to pick up Lucy.
The man had a nice backside. Becky was annoyed at herself for noticing and still just a little hurt that he didn’t consider his temporarily unemployed neighbor a qualified caregiver. He probably didn’t want someone he’d almost arrested as a burglar watching his precious niece.
Nate knew baby language. Circling the living room several times, carrying a contented Lucy in his arms, he sweet-talked his niece, and she gave him an enormous grin. “Hey, buttercup,” he cooed.
Lucy gurgled and grasped his chin.
“I don’t suppose you could help me until I can hire a good babysitter?” he asked suddenly, the solution apparently finally dawning on him. “I’d pay you, of course. Agency rates.”
“Maybe I could help a little,” she said with exaggerated hesitation. “But you don’t have to pay me that much.”
“We’ll discuss that later.”
“Fine.”
He smiled at the baby. “You’re getting to be such a big girl.”
“I’ll get her bottles from the fridge,” Becky said. “They should take you through the day, but you have to get more formula for tomorrow.”
“Hey, I haven’t slept yet.” He was giving Becky his full attention now. “It’s my day off. If you could take the first shift…”
“Just a minute. I waited up until two a.m. for you to come home, and then Lucy got me up at five. I have hardly had enough sleep to count as a nap. It’s none of my business, but why did you work all day and all night too?”
“You’re right, it isn’t your business, but I worked overtime.”
“I’m not worried about anything, but you look as if you’d spent the day in a bear cage at the zoo. I feel a certain responsibility for Lucy.”
“Point taken.” He jostled Lucy in the crook of his arm and ran his other hand over his chin.
“I don’t mind the whiskers,” she said, “but your eyes are florescent red with black accents.”
“For the record—not that I need to explain myself to you or anyone—I pulled a ten-hour shift. So about Lucy…”
“We could toss a coin.”
“Never mind. She’s my problem.”
“Well, I suppose I owe you one for the spider. Noon—I’ll watch her until noon.”
“Deal.” He brushed the baby’s forehead with his lips and handed her over. “You said there was enough formula for today. What about baby food?”
“Her diaper bag was packed full of stuff.”
“Great. I appreciate this, Rebecca.”
“Twelve o’clock sharp,” she reminded him.
“Noon, right.” He touched Lucy's soft pink cheek with the back of one finger. “See you later, sweetheart. You be a good girl for this nice woman.”
For one ridiculous second, Becky was jealous of the baby.
Nate was having a sexy dream about a cute little woman with blue hair, but a pounding noise pulled him awake.
He sat up, realizing he’d kicked off his shoes and collapsed on the couch fully dressed. Dang. He had to get more sleep.
“Open up, Dalton. I know you’re in there.”
“Go away,” he called out, loosening his belt buckle. It had indented his belly while he slept.
She pounded some more, and he reluctantly looked at his watch, remembering his promise to take Lucy off her hands at noon. It was one fifteen. Yikes.
He lurched to the door, whipped his belt out of the loops, and tossed it aside. He needed at least a gallon of coffee before he started dealing with his sister’s problems, not to mention his unhappy neighbor.
He flung open the door and faced two very unhappy females—his howling, red-faced niece and an angry, pink-cheeked Becky.
“Shh, you’ll have Mrs. Vander Polder on our case about making too much noise.” It was a dumb thing to say, but he was too groggy to think straight.
“Our landlady plays canasta on Saturday afternoon, and it is afternoon, Dalton, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Yeah, come on in.” He stepped aside.
“You promised to take Lucy at noon. I gave you an extra hour and then some.”
“Thanks.” He took the baby, car seat and all, out of her arms. “I appreciate it. Just put the diaper bag anyplace.”
How could she look so perky on a couple hours sleep? She was wearing a pink-striped tank top, and he was having a heckuva time pretending not to notice how good she looked in it.
Don’t be a creep, Dalton.
“Lucy needs diapers—check out the empty package for the right size—and don’t forget, she’ll run out of formula today. Just follow the directions on the can when you mix it. The food will last another day or two, but you better stock up on that as well. I don’t know Lucy’s favorite foods, but beets are usually on the most hated list.”
“What are you doing the rest of the day?”
The question slipped out. He didn’t want or need to keep track of his neighbor’s activities.
“I need a nap, or I’ll fall asleep on my date.”
“You got a new boyfriend already?” He immediately wished he hadn’t said that.
“No, one of the other assistant managers at the garden center where I’ll be working asked me to dinner.”
“Okay, could I ask just one more favor?”
“What is it?”
“Could you keep your eye on her while I shower, then I’ll let you have your life back.”
Before she could refuse, he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it in the general direction of his belt, then unsnapped his pants, wondering how far she let him go.
“Okay, okay, keep your pants on. You have fifteen minutes and not one second more.”
She grabbed Lucy and fled back to her apartment.
Chuckling, he headed toward the shower. Funny, he was feeling a lot more energetic already.
6
When the knock came, Lucy was on her tummy on the carpeted floor, doing an excellent imitation of a sand crab on a slippery slope. She covered amazing distances with a total lack of technique, leaving Becky to follow in her wake.
“No, sweetie, don’t chew the TV cord,” she begged, trying to substitute a stuffed carrot doll. Scooping up the baby, Becky rushed to answer the door.
Nate stood there grinning at her.
“The cavalry. You’re just in time for Lucy’s full-fledged assault on my e
lectrical cords. Watch out, she likes to chew on them.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” Nate said.
“Remembering is an option you don’t have,” she warned, wondering how such a quick shower had left him smelling so yummy.
Just then, Lucy grabbed the hairs showing through the unbuttoned flap of Nate's polo shirt. “Yo, buttercup, that’s my skin there.” He yelped and tried to loosen her grip, but all he got for his efforts was another streak of drool on the front of his clean shirt.
“Hey, Lucy, say hello to Mr. Carrot Head,” Becky said, wriggling the toy until the baby grabbed for it.
“Thanks.” Nate grinned and belatedly buttoned his shirt. “I was in a hurry to get here—fifteen minutes you said.”
“And I meant it.”
“Understandable. Thank you, thank you.”
“Well, you made it, and she’s all yours now.” Becky picked up the car seat and the diaper bag. “Don’t forget—she’ll need the formula and diapers today.”
“Got it.”
She made the mistake of looking directly into his heavenly blue eyes. True, they were still darkly shadowed, but no way was she going to let herself feel sorry for him. She wouldn’t get emotionally involved with her neighbor.
Lucy was making joyful noises, apparently delighted by the prospect of spending the rest of the day with her gorgeous uncle. But then, who wouldn’t? His broad shoulders were designed for cuddling—and not just with babies.
“Thank you so much for watching her. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you,” he said, now fully loaded with baby gear and trying to fend off Lucy’s attack on his nose.
“You’re welcome. Have a marvelous day,” Becky chimed as they said their goodbyes, pretty sure Lucy still had a few tricks left for her uncle.
She tried to nap but couldn’t fall asleep. Unfortunately, she wasn’t good at napping. Blame genes inherited from her work-addicted farming ancestors that kept her wide-eyed until it was time to get ready for her date.
Her wakefulness couldn’t possibly have anything to do with visions of Nate crawling around on his hands and knees, trying to keep Lucy occupied and out of trouble.