Happy New Year--Baby!. Marie Ferrarella
He smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to walk in on something.”
Oh God, sympathy. She couldn’t handle sympathy. That would only make her cry more.
Nicole tossed her head, narrowing her eyes. “You didn’t.”
She felt like an idiot. Her nose was probably red. Nicole wished that he would say what he had to say and then leave.
“Crying jags are common for women in my condition. Look,” she said abruptly, cutting herself off, “you didn’t ring my bell because you wanted to take a survey on how emotional pregnant women are. Is there something I can do for you?”
Touchy. Obviously not a shrinking violet. It made him feel better.
Dennis glanced down at the key in his hand. “Yes. I’m your new neighbor, Dennis Lincoln. I’m expecting a delivery today, and I can’t be here to let the deliverymen in. I called the rental office, but they and maintenance seem to have disappeared off the face of the earth and I can’t get anyone to house-sit.”
He paused and looked at her. She wasn’t about to volunteer, he guessed. That made him feel better, too. Though it was part of his job, he really didn’t care for taking advantage of kindhearted people. Besides, he reminded himself, she’d probably been in on it with her late husband.
“I know it’s a huge imposition and this is the last minute and all, but are you working today?”
Dennis already knew the answer to that. He’d had Nicole’s complete schedule down pat before he ever moved in.
Nicole shook her head. “No, today’s my day off.” The day stretched before her, suddenly very large and empty. “I was just planning to put my feet up and watch my ankles thicken.”
Dennis glanced down at her feet. She was barefoot and had the kind of feet that reminded him of “Cinderella”: small and dainty. Her ankles were slender and graceful.
“They look pretty good from where I’m standing.”
The compliment, given so spontaneously and guilelessly, made Nicole laugh softly. It felt good. It had been a long time since she had been given a compliment. She smiled at him.
“Thanks, I needed that.”
His smile grew. “Any time, Mrs. Logan.”
She had no idea why, but for a moment, she entertained the idea of inviting him in. Maybe she was just lonely, or hungry for a kind word. That wasn’t like her, either.
He looked as if he was in a hurry.
Just as well, Nicole thought, she wasn’t in the market for any new friends. “What is it that you’re having delivered?”
“A big-screen TV.” Dennis nodded toward his apartment. The door was standing open. “My old one gave up the ghost just before I moved. When I went to replace it, I decided to treat myself to something that I’ve been wanting to get for a long time.”
She knew how that was. Except, in her case, it had been an education, something she had regretted turning her back on in the name of love.
Nicole cocked her head, unable to resist the temptation of looking into Dennis’s apartment. From where she stood, she had a clear view of the small living room. It appeared very tastefully furnished, but it was missing something.
Nicole looked at him, curious. “No Christmas decorations?”
It was an oversight he hadn’t thought about. Moira normally took care of that end. He never bothered with decorations at his apartment.
Dennis glossed over it casually. “I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
It sounded like procrastination to her. Something else she was well acquainted with. Craig did it all the time. Had done it, she corrected herself silently. Had done it. “It’s only a few days away.”
Moira would really like this woman, Dennis mused. “I don’t generally let things go until the last second. This year, however, things have gotten so hectic I seem to be leaving my whole personal life on hold until the last possible moment.”
Nicole nodded. He watched, intrigued, as a smile crept into her eyes. They were an interesting shade of indigo.
The comment reminded her of something Marlene might have said. “I have a sister like that. I’m thinking of getting a tranquilizing gun and shooting her with a dart for Christmas.”
Her smile broadened when she thought of Marlene. Now, with a brand new baby and maybe even a potential man in her life, perhaps Marlene would finally slow down to a trot instead of a gallop.
Radiant, he thought. There was no other word to describe the way she looked when she smiled other than radiant. Except, perhaps, for ethereal.
Not that that entered into the situation, he reminded himself.
“So you’ll let them in?” He held up the key in front of her.
Nicole took it in her hand. “I’ll let them in.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” He jerked a thumb behind him. “I’ll just tape a note on my door, telling the deliverymen that the key is with you.” Dennis hesitated for what he felt was the appropriate amount of time. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”
Nicole pocketed the key in her jumper, her fingers still curved around it. She shook her head at his question.
“It might be the highlight of my whole day.”
The sad look had returned, undermining her smile and chasing it from her eyes. He was tempted to ask her what was wrong.
But that would be getting ahead of the plan.
“Thanks, you’re a doll.” He turned toward his apartment, then stopped, realizing that he hadn’t told her the approximate time. “The store said the deliverymen would be by between eleven and three.” That was asking her to stay put for four hours. “I know it’s a huge imposition—”
Nicole waved away the concern she saw etched across his face. “No problem. Like I said, I wasn’t planning on doing anything today anyway. I’ll see that it’s delivered in one piece.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
Dennis turned and taped a note to his door. Nicole watched, surprised. “You were rather sure of yourself, weren’t you?”
He turned to look at her over his shoulder. “Hopeful,” he amended. “Always hopeful.”
She smiled sadly to herself. Hopeful. She’d forgotten what that was like.
Chapter 2
T he moment after she had agreed to wait for the delivery, she’d regretted it. There was nothing Nicole hated more than having to wait for something or someone. Whether it meant sitting in Dr. Pollack’s office, waiting to be seen, anticipating a delivery, or standing in line before a movie theater, waiting always made her feel fidgety and impatient.
But Dennis Lincoln had looked particularly needy and she was free for the day, so in a moment of weakness, she had said yes.
Now she was stuck with the situation. Sighing, she decided not to waste the day completely and went to work on her ongoing conversion of the small, second bedroom into a nursery.
She had just finished painting one wall when she heard a distant, rumbling noise, like the sound of a truck approaching. Setting down the roller, she looked at her watch. She’d expected the deliverymen to arrive later than the allotted time frame. It was just fifteen minutes into the first hour.
“Nice surprise,” she murmured, wiping her hands on a rag as she went to the front door.
“Mr. Lincoln isn’t home,” she called out to the burly man stepping out of the passenger side of the delivery truck. “But I can let you in.”