“Michelle, it’s okay,” Susannah said quickly, hoping to ward off the scream she feared was coming. “You’re staying with Auntie Susannah this weekend, remember?”
“I think she might be wet,” Nate offered when Michelle began to whimper softly. He let out a muffled curse and hastily lifted the nine-month-old from his lap. “I’m positive she’s wet. Here, take her.”
Susannah reached for her niece and a dry diaper in one smooth movement, but it didn’t help. Michelle was intent on letting them both know, in no uncertain terms, that she didn’t like her schedule altered. Nor did she appreciate waking up in a stranger’s arms. She conveyed her displeasure in loud boisterous cries.
“I think she might be hungry, too,” Nate suggested, trying to brush the dampness from his housecoat.
“Brilliant observation,” Susannah said sarcastically on her way to the bathroom, Michelle in her arms.
“My, my, you certainly get testy in the mornings,” he said.
“I need coffee.”
“Fine. I’ll make us both a cup while I’m heating a bottle for Michelle.”
“She’s supposed to eat her cereal first,” Susannah shouted. At least that was what Emily had insisted when she’d outlined her daughter’s schedule.
“I’m sure she doesn’t care. She’s hungry.”
“All right, all right,” Susannah yelled from the bathroom. “Heat her bottle first if you want.”
Yelling was a mistake, she soon discovered. Michelle clearly wasn’t any keener on mornings than Susannah was. Punching the air with her stubby legs, her niece made diapering a nearly impossible task. Susannah grew more frustrated by the minute. Finally her hair, falling forward over her shoulders, caught Michelle’s attention. She grasped it, pausing to gulp in a huge breath.
“Do you want me to get that?” she heard Nate shout.
“Get what?”
Apparently it wasn’t important because he didn’t answer her. But a moment later he was standing at the bathroom door.
“It’s for you,” he said.
“What’s for me?”
“The phone.”
The word bounced around in her mind like a ricocheting bullet. “Did…did they say who it was?” she asked, her voice high-pitched and wobbly. No doubt it was someone from the office and she’d be the subject of gossip for months.
“Someone named Emily.”
“Emily,” she repeated. That was even worse. Her sister was sure to be full of awkward questions.
“Hi,” Susannah said as casually as possible into the receiver.
“Who answered the phone?” her sister demanded without preamble.
“My neighbor. Nate Townsend. He, ah, lives next door.” That awkward explanation astonished even her. Worse, Susannah had been ready to blurt out that Nate had spent the night, but she’d stopped herself just in time.
“I haven’t met him, have I?”
“My neighbor? No, you haven’t.”
“He sounds cute.”
“Listen, if you’re phoning about Michelle,” Susannah hurried to add, anxious to end the conversation, “there’s no need for concern. Everything’s under control.” That was a slight exaggeration, but what Emily didn’t know couldn’t worry her.
“Is that Michelle I hear crying in the background?” Emily asked.
“Yes. She just woke up and she’s a little hungry.” Nate was holding the baby and pacing the kitchen, waiting impatiently for Susannah to get off the phone.
“My poor baby,” Emily moaned. “Tell me when you met your neighbor. I don’t remember you ever mentioning anyone named Nate.”
“He’s been helping me out,” Susannah said quickly. Wanting to change the subject, she asked, “How are you and Robert?”
Her sister sighed audibly. “Robert was so right. We needed this weekend alone. I feel a thousand times better and so does he. Every married couple should get away for a few days like this—but then everyone doesn’t have a sister as generous as you to fill in on such short notice.”
“Good, good,” Susannah said, hardly aware of what she was supposed to think was so fantastic. “Uh-oh,” she said, growing desperate. “The bottle’s warm. I hate to cut you off, but I’ve got to take care of Michelle. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon then. What time’s your flight landing?”
“One-fifteen. We’ll drive straight to your place and pick up Michelle.”
“Okay, I’ll expect you sometime around two.” Another day with Michelle. She could manage for another twenty-four hours, couldn’t she? What could possibly go wrong in that small amount of time?
Losing patience, Nate took the bottle and Michelle and returned to the living room. Susannah watched through the doorway as he turned on her television and plopped himself down as if he’d been doing it for years. His concentration moved from the TV long enough to place the rubber nipple in Michelle’s eager mouth.
Her niece began greedily sucking, too hungry to care who was feeding her. Good heavens, Susannah thought, Michelle had spent the night in his arms. A little thing like letting this man feed her paled in comparison.
Emily was still chatting, telling her sister how romantic her first night in San Francisco had been. But Susannah barely heard. Her gaze settled on Nate, who looked rumpled, crumpled and utterly content, sitting in her living room, holding an infant in his arms.
That sight affected Susannah as few ever had, and she was powerless to explain its impact on her senses. She’d dated a reasonable number of men—debonair, rich, sophisticated ones. But the feeling she had now, this attraction, had taken her completely by surprise. Over the years, Susannah had always been careful to guard her heart. It hadn’t been difficult, since she’d never met anyone who truly appealed to her. Yet this disheveled, disgruntled male, who sat in her living room feeding her infant niece with enviable expertise, attracted her more profoundly than anyone she’d ever met. It wasn’t the least bit logical. Nothing could ever develop between them—they were as different as…as gelatin and concrete. The last thing she wanted was to become involved in a serious relationship. With some effort, she forced her eyes away from the homey scene.
When at last she was able to hang up the phone, Susannah moved into the living room, feeling weary. She brushed the tangled curls from her face, wondering if she should take Michelle from Nate so he could return to his own apartment. No doubt her niece would resist and humiliate her once more.
“Your sister isn’t flying with Puget Air, is she?” he asked, frowning. His gaze remained on the television screen.
“Yes, why?”
Nate’s mouth thinned. “You…we’re in trouble here. Big trouble. According to the news, maintenance workers for Puget Air are going on strike. By six tonight, every plane they own will be grounded.”
“If this is a joke,” Susannah told him angrily, “it’s in poor taste.”
“Would I kid about this?” Nate asked mildly.
Susannah slumped down on the edge of the sofa