Cinderella's Secret Agent. Ingrid Weaver
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did I mention the other good thing about breast-feeding? It’s cheap.”
He didn’t smile. “Maggie, I don’t mean to pry into your finances, but if you need money, just ask.”
Her grin faded. “Del, I appreciate your concern, but I’ll get by. I do have some money put aside, and the baby-sitting I’ll be doing for my neighbor will help tide me over until I can go back to work.”
He nodded. “Okay, but if something comes up, I would be happy to give you a loan, no strings attached.”
“Really, you don’t have to feel obligated….” She was struck by a sudden thought. “Is that it? Do you feel you have to help because I said you could be Delilah’s honorary uncle?”
“I don’t feel obligated to help. I want to.”
“Because I didn’t name Delilah after you just to manipulate you into feeling responsible, and I sure wasn’t looking for money—”
“Maggie, I never thought you were like that,” he said. “I feel privileged to be part of Delilah’s life. Believe me, what you’ve given me is far more valuable than anything I could offer you.”
How did he always know exactly the right thing to say? she wondered. “Thanks, Del.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you. I do a lot of traveling because of my work, so I don’t see much of my nephews and nieces back in Missouri. I’m only in New York temporarily, too, but while I’m here, I’d really like the chance to be Delilah’s honorary uncle. And your friend.”
The roller coaster did another dip and swirl. A friend? Maggie thought. A friend was safe. And a man friend who was only here temporarily was even safer.
What was she worried about? Why was she fighting him? She wasn’t in danger of falling into the same trap with Del that she had with Alan. She wasn’t going to start mistaking her dreams for the real thing. This was a different situation altogether. Yes, it was.
“Thanks, Del,” she said softly. “I can use all the friends I can get.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he returned her smile. “All right. Since your hands are full, how about if I put that crib together before I go?”
“Well…”
“Trust me, I’m good at putting things together. Or would you rather have me do the dishes instead?”
“No. Really. They don’t matter.”
“You’re right. I think having someplace for Delilah to sleep tonight is the priority.” Before she could voice another objection, he switched on a lamp and crossed the room. After a cursory inspection of the parts of the crib, he laid the pieces out on the floor and opened the small plastic package that contained the necessary hardware. “Do you have a screwdriver?”
“In the drawer beside the stove.”
It was probably only a trick of the lighting combined with the pesky moisture that kept filling her eyes, she decided. Yet as Del progressed with his task, Maggie couldn’t help noticing how the lingering dampness on his shirt and pants reflected the lamplight with a gleam that was almost metallic, almost like…like armor. Shining armor.
Maggie pressed her cheek against the top of Delilah’s wispy curls, unsure whether to laugh or cry.
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