The SEAL’s Surprise Baby (6 page)

An hour and half later, Jack stopped the car in front of the bank. Melanie glanced at her watch and sighed.

“You looked relaxed,” he said.

“I am. Thank you, Jack. Lunch was wonderful.”

He smiled, pushing back the urge to touch her.

Melanie looked into the back seat, smiling. “Well, she’s wiped out.”

He strained to see. Juliana’s dress was rumpled and her knees were dirty from trying to crawl all over the park. “She’s amazing.”

He turned his head a fraction. Melanie’s face was within an inch of his. And if he moved a fraction, their lips would meet. The temptation was eating him alive.

“Thank you for her, Melanie.”

Her eyes glossed a bit. “You took part.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t carry her for nine months alone. I didn’t suffer pain to get her here so I could love her.”

He eased back a bit and gently brushed a strand of hair off Melanie’s face. “Someday you’ll tell me all about it? I hate that I’ve missed so much.”

Missed so much of you, he thought. Of being the first one to know about the baby, of seeing Melanie grow round with their child and being there to hold her when she was scared.

“Yeah, someday.” Someday, Melanie thought, she’d give him the video her father had taken during her pregnancy and the birth. The latter being something she wasn’t ready to share with anyone just yet.

She turned away and opened the car door. He was there in an instant offering a hand. Her fingers slid easily into his and he tugged. “See you at home?” she asked.

His gaze raked her features. “Yeah. We’ll be there.”

He swore he wasn’t going to do it, swore he’d back off, but he couldn’t resist. She was taking his breath away by the second and he needed to touch her. Over the rim of the car door, he leaned and brushed his mouth over hers.

“Jack,” she whispered, and there was no protest in her tone.

He didn’t touch her anywhere else, just applied a bit of pressure, his lips sweeping gently over hers. Melanie made a tight little sound in the back of her throat, worrying his mouth, reveling in the taste of him. It was an aphrodisiac, a drug swimming through
her system and making her want to be addicted to him. She could do that so easily. This, with Jack, was always good.

Gently he pulled back, his breathing a little faster, his eyes a little softer. A fractured smile curved his lips as if he’d just learned something he’d already known. He rubbed his thumb across her lower lip.

“See you later.” He stepped back and moved to the driver’s side.

Melanie couldn’t move. Instead, she stared at him across the top of the car, then forced herself to turn and walk into the bank. Her steps were a little less steady and her pulse was…well, out of control.

Oh man, she thought, pushing through the revolving doors and ignoring the glances from her staff as she walked to her office. She went immediately inside, closed the door and dropped into her chair.

Oh man, oh man, oh man,
she thought, pressing her forehead to the desk and letting out a long shaky breath.

They fell into a strange routine. Jack showed up in the morning early enough to have coffee with Melanie, and he was there when she came home at night. He cooked something fantastic every evening, and they dined together, but after Juliana was tucked in bed, he’d leave with a casual, “See ya.”

Melanie found herself wishing he’d hang around a little bit longer, but she knew that would only lead to trouble. He hadn’t tried kissing her again, but every time he was within a foot of her, she felt her insides clench and pull. She acted as if it didn’t mat
ter, as if she didn’t feel it, but alone at night, she felt only the torment of need.

It was tough when she was learning so much about him and finding something else to admire. The veil between them was growing blurred and it didn’t stop the feeling that she was being worn down. Therein lay the trouble, she thought. He was making himself indispensable. He’d be gone soon, off on some dangerous, classified mission that most of the government wouldn’t know about, and that scared her.

It made her realize that with one mission Juliana could lose her father. And she’d lose a friend. Friends. Yeah, she thought. She never imagined they could come to that equitable of a relationship, but they had. Only, she was coming to expect him to be around, and his job said clearly he wouldn’t be.

She was deep in those thoughts when she stepped into the house and called out. When she didn’t get a response, she set down her briefcase and went looking for Jack. In the backyard, Juliana was in her playpen under a tree, and her father was building something fantastically large in Melanie’s modest yard.

“Jack,” Melanie said patiently, and he looked up. His gaze moved over her from head to foot and she realized he did that a lot.

“Hi, tough day?”

“Not as tough as yours, apparently.” Melanie gestured to the pile of lumber and bolts. “She’s six months old. She doesn’t need a gym set like that.”

“Every kid does. Besides, she’ll grow into it.” Jack kept working.

As she lifted the baby out of the playpen, Melanie’s gaze slipped over the wooden gym set rising in
her backyard. It hadn’t been there this morning. He was getting sneaky, she thought. “You really have to stop this buying spree,” she said.

“I didn’t buy it. I made it.” He tightened a bolt and stood, looking at her and not his work.

Melanie gaped at the castlelike set. “You made it? It’s incredible, Jack. When did you have time to do this?”

“At night, at my sister’s place.”

“But you’re here almost every night.”

He shrugged big shoulders. “It’s a simple design, and Lisa’s husband, Brian, has a fair amount of tools in his garage. I did the cutting and sawing there. All I’m doing now is assembling it. The swing and glider were the hard stuff to find. Juliana and I just went on a search together during the day. The red swings were her choice.”

Melanie smiled at him, hitching the baby onto her hip. “You are such a sap, you know that?”

He flushed a little. “Yeah. Besides, it’s a father’s right to dote on his daughter.”

“But a stuffed pony?” She gestured to the taffy-colored stuffed creation as big as a real pony, resting near the playpen.

“Prelude to the real one I’ll get her someday,” he said just to get Melanie going.

Melanie smiled, shaking her head as she walked toward him. “You’re hopeless. And no pony, ever. Unless you plan to clean up the mess and teach Juliana to ride. Because I have no idea.”

“Me, neither.”

“Fatherhood has destroyed your brain cells,” she said, deadpan.

“Maybe we could all learn to ride together.”

“I keep walking right into your verbal traps, don’t I?”

“I’m not trying to trap you.”

“No, you’re not,” she admitted. “Just wiggle.”

He shot her a very manly offended look. “I do not wiggle.”

She laughed and Jack felt knocked to his knees. She hadn’t done that much while he was around. She kept her distance, emotionally and physically. And all he wanted to do was have both from her. He wondered how long he was going to last before the need to kiss her overtook him again.

He glanced at his watch. “You’re home early.”

“Banker hours.” She smiled and stared at him. And there was a lot to stare at, too. He was sweaty and tanned, and the muscles in his shoulders and arms rippled as he tightened a bolt, then lifted the plank for the next piece. His tank shirt did nothing more than absorb the sweat pouring off him, and Melanie’s insides clenched as she remembered what those damp muscles felt like beneath her palms. Beneath her mouth. Pressed against her naked flesh.

Oh, don’t go there, she thought, and needed to put some distance between them. It didn’t help that the memories of this man making love to her were just too vibrant to shut into a little corner of her mind.

“I’m going to change,” she blurted, and he looked up, frowning as she rushed off.

Melanie hurried into the house, first changing her daughter’s diaper and giving her a drink, then taking her into the bedroom while she changed out of her
work clothes and into jean shorts and a light cotton T-shirt.

“Come on, sweetie, let’s keep busy,” she said, gathering up her daughter and heading into the kitchen. She put Juliana in her walker, then hunted in the fridge.

An hour later Jack stepped inside, inhaling the delicious aromas and running a rag over his face and the back of his neck. “You’re cooking?”

“Don’t look so surprised, Singer. I thought I’d give you a break, though I’m not quite the culinary artist you are.”

He smiled, unreasonably touched. It was just a meal, but she looked adorable in the apron emblazoned with “Domestic Goddess” across the chest and with flour on her nose. He swiped at the flour.

“Mind if I use your shower?”

She went still for a second, just looking at him. “Of course not, go ahead.” She paused in setting the table to fill a glass with water and ice. “Here. You need to replace all that water you’ve been sweating out.”

He took the glass. “Thanks.” He drained it without stopping, then let out a loud satisfied sigh.

Juliana copied him, beaming up at him.

Melanie laughed hard. “Good Lord, she’s already picking up your habits,” she said.

“At least they’re not the really bad ones.” Jack winked at the baby, then headed toward the bathroom, pleased that Melanie was more at ease around him. She’d been like an edgy cat that past few days. Ever since he’d kissed her outside the bank. He’d been more than tempted to try that again, but her
avoidance told him that no matter the effect, she’d considered it a breach of trust.

He was drying off and pulling on his jeans when he realized his shirt was beyond hope. Going shirtless the rest of the evening was unacceptable. He’d have to go back to Lisa’s for fresh clothes.

A knock sounded and he pulled open the bathroom door.

Melanie’s breath snagged at the sight of his bare chest and damp hair. She held up a T-shirt. “It’s yours. You must have left it here and it got tossed in with… It’s clean. I thought since the other was dirty…well, here.” She shoved it at him, irritated with herself that she was suddenly unable to speak around him. He took it. Smiling, he stepped into the hall.

She didn’t turn away. She didn’t move. It wasn’t just the muscle and the sexy way he was looking at her, it was the man. In the past two weeks she’d learned more about Jack than she ever thought she could. And it was getting to her. He was getting to her. And the kiss they’d shared outside the bank was just a kiss, but it had made a lasting impression. A lingering one.

“I like it when you look at me like that,” he murmured.

The sexy tone of his voice should have alerted her. “Like what?”

“Like you did in the elevator when you put my hand under your gown.”

“I’m just giving you a shirt, Jack.”

“Uh-huh.” He took a step and loomed.

“For a man who deals in accurate details, you sure are reading more into this than there is.”

“Am I?”

“Fine. Have it your way. Dinner’s ready.”

“Good. I’m starved,” he said, staring at her mouth.

She could almost taste him, wanted to taste him, dammit. “Well, it’s hot.”

She started to move away, and he caught her, his hand sliding over her waist and wrapping her like warm silk. “Me, too.”

Her hands went to his chest, her heartbeat tripping over itself. She could barely catch her breath. “This isn’t wise.”

“I can take only so much tiptoeing around you, Melanie.” He didn’t let her go.

She didn’t push away. “I’m a big girl. You don’t have to tiptoe.”

“Darlin’, I’m glad to hear that.” He tilted his head and laid his mouth over hers.

The contact created combustion, and the flames licked around them both. Her arms slid up his chest and around his neck.

Melanie held on. And Jack fed the fire.

H
e molded, he toyed, he played with her senses until she thought she’d scream with the sheer pleasure of it. Her body came alive, nerve endings suddenly raw and revved for his touch. There was nothing subtle in his kiss, nothing restrained. If Jack wanted to show her that in this, nothing had changed…he’d done so. In spades.

Need rocketed through her as he devoured, nipped, licked, his hand sliding down her spine and pulling her hips to his. The sharp contact sent a moan spiraling out of her, blooming vibrant and hot with the memory of how this man could wield enormous power over her desire. He owned it, and when his hand rode up her side to slide over her breast, she almost cried out with want.

Then Juliana did.

The sound ripped them apart, and just for a second Melanie stared up into his eyes, smoky with desire. She felt her insides give another small tremble, then she tore her gaze from his and went running on shaky legs toward her daughter. The baby stopped crying the instant she saw her mother, and Melanie sank into a chair, relieved. She struggled to catch her breath. Oh, she was a fine one to talk about restraint and being
friends.
Here she was making deals with Jack to be parents only, and she was falling into his arms at the sight of his bare chest.

Jack stepped into the kitchen, pulling on his T-shirt, then as if he didn’t know what to do with his hands, he raked them through his short hair. Melanie knew he was there. He could sense her shoulders tightening an instant before she pushed out of the chair and went to the oven.

Jack moved up behind her, waiting until she’d lifted out the bubbling pan before he said, “I scare you, don’t I?”

She hesitated, setting the pan on the stove, then let out a long-suffering sigh. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“What do you want me to say, Jack? That I don’t come apart at the seams when you so much as touch me? News flash, it just happened.”

“I wasn’t exactly a doormat, you know.”

“God, do I,” she said without thinking, and he laughed shortly.

“You turn me inside out.”

She spun around sharply, meeting his gaze. “That’s why we shouldn’t be…you know.” She waved the spatula toward the hallway.

“Trying to smother each other with our lips? Groping like teenagers?”

She reddened. “Well, that puts it in perspective.”

He smiled, moving closer and loving the flare in her eyes. “Anyway you shake it, darlin’, it’s still there.”

And so dangerous, she thought. If anything, those moments in the hallway reminded her that they were combustion waiting to happen and that she’d nearly forgotten her daughter in the face of her own need.

“I know. But sex isn’t everything.”

“It’s a nice start.”

Men, she thought, unable to stop her very supreme-female smile. They think first with their anatomy, then their hearts. “Okay, yes, I’ll agree that in bed we were a great match. But is that all you want in a marriage? A name on a piece of paper and a partner in bed?” Melanie dished up the meal onto plates and brought them to the table.

When Juliana fussed, Jack set her in her high chair and gave her a cracker.

“No, it’s not. But I think we have the makings of something stronger.” Jack wanted to tell Melanie that she scared him worse than facing down enemy weapons with only one clip left in his magazine. He felt helpless around her and he wondered if she really knew what she did to him with just one of those innocent “oh, really” kind of looks she got when she was skeptical. That kiss already told her she had him roped and ready for her. And his body was still aching for more.

“Maybe.” Melanie wasn’t going to mention that because they’d had a child together, there was more
between them already and it also, very importantly to her at least, masked true feelings. That fact tormented her because Jack was a good guy. She’d found very little to dislike about him. What woman wouldn’t love a man who did the laundry and cooked, for pity’s sake?

Jack watched the emotions skate across her face as he slid gingerly into a chair.

Melanie frowned slightly at him. “What’s the matter? Are you sore?” He was shifting in the chair.

“Yes, I am.”

“Want a heating pad, some ointment or something?”

He stabbed at a portion of meat, looking at her through a lock of dark hair. “I don’t think that is the solution for this ache.”

“Oh.” His meaning sank into her like thick warm honey as she sank into her chair. “Oh.” And the part of her that said,
Don’t be so pleased, dearie,
was lost to the sheer feminine joy of
He’s hot for me and still steaming,
which was shouting in the back of her mind.

Melanie glanced up, her lips twitching.

“Eat,” he commanded. “Or I’ll come over there and make you feel so good you won’t be able to
not
smile at me like that.”

A giddy spurt of heat shot out to her fingertips. “Aye, aye, sir. Viable threat noted. Shall I go to Defcon Delta?”

Jack laughed, tossing down his fork and rubbing his face. “It’s Threat Con, not def. That’s TV lingo.”

“Oops.” Melanie lost it and laughter bubbled up from her like champagne.

It shattered the tension between them, and then they changed the subject and talked of everything but how they were sitting across from each other and wanting to share more than a meal.

An hour and a half later, Juliana was tucked in bed. Melanie gathered up toys as she made her way down the hall to the living room. Jack was on the sofa, the TV on and the volume turned low.

“I think I should get this on film,” she said, and he looked up, a tiny T-shirt half-folded in his hands. “I doubt your teammates would believe it.”

“I know they wouldn’t.” Jack continued to fold laundry. “These are interesting,” he said, holding up a green silk thong.

Melanie leaned forward and snatched it from him. “Just fold it. No inspections.” She tossed the panties into the laundry basket.

“I’d like to see those modeled. Or maybe these,” he added, winging another pair of panties on his fingertip.

She took those away from him and went to the kitchen. “Go to the store. There are plastic females already dressed to model those.”

He chuckled, then stacked the remaining clothes in the basket and pushed it aside. Melanie returned with a beer, handing it to him. He smiled his thanks and popped the cap. “I’m beat.”

“Me, too.”

“It’s tough doing it all. I don’t think half the men in the world realize what’s going on in their own houses while they’re away.”

“Yeah, they have dreams of cleaning fairies and
a woman reclining on the sofa with a novel and bonbons.”

Jack made a face. “I don’t think so.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of a man refer to his wife and say, ‘I don’t know what she does all day’?” Jack nodded. “But then he doesn’t consider who does the cleaning, the cooking, the raising of kids, school plays, teacher conferences and so on,” Melanie said, sitting beside him on the sofa.

“Your mom do all that?” Jack asked.

“Yes, and very well, I might add. She’s my hero.”

Jack grinned and leaned back, the beer on his stomach.

Melanie shifted her shoulders in the cushions, staring at the TV. It was the Discovery channel and the words The Making Of The U.S. Navy SEALs flashed across the screen. She sat up, grabbing the control and raising the volume.

The commentator was explaining the training.

“Okay, this is boring,” Jack said, reaching for the remote control.

“Not to me,” she said, holding it out of his reach.

Jack groaned and sipped his beer. He didn’t watch the screen. He knew what was happening and remembered his own training well enough not to want to relive it in color. So he watched Melanie, the way she bit her lip, the furrow of her brow. He wondered what seeing this show would do to the way she thought about him. He didn’t think about being with the teams. It was like breathing to him now.

Melanie learned a lot in the first few minutes of the program. “Were you always Navy? The narrator
said there were some guys that were Army, Marines, even Air Force.”

“I was a Marine first. I take a lot of ribbing for it,” Jack said.

She blinked at him, then smiled. “Doesn’t surprise me.” She looked back at the screen and watched potential SEALs standing in the sea at night, linked arm in arm as waves hit them and instructors yelled. The men had been without sleep for three days. “That’s cruel,” Melanie said. “It’s like torture.”

“Nah, it makes the instructors see who can endure the worst and still want to be a SEAL.”

“You did that?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you put yourself through that?”

He shrugged negligently. “I wanted to be a SEAL. You have to do what it takes if you want something bad enough. Didn’t you do all you could to be a banker?”

“No, actually I wanted to be a ballerina, but since I can’t jump high enough, I changed my sights.”

Jack laughed, shifting on the sofa lengthwise, wedging his feet under Melanie’s hip. She didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ve always been good with numbers. It doesn’t mean I like it,” she said.

“What would you like to do?”

“Something where I didn’t have to leave Juliana with a sitter every day. Something I could do at home.”

He didn’t say it, but marrying him could give her that, and as if she sensed his thoughts, she ignored them and looked back at the TV.

“Are those real bullets they’re shooting?”

“Yes, they’re real. It’s all real,” he groused, and would have preferred she watch a craft show or something. “We can’t train men if they know they’re not experiencing real danger.”

“What’s it like when you’re out there knowing you could get hit?”

“I don’t think about it, Melanie. It’s distracting.” He worked his shoulders into the cushions, watching her and not the show.

And what kind of distraction would she and the baby be for him now? she wondered. “Are you afraid?”

“I’d be a fool if I wasn’t. Fear keeps you sharp.”

He still wanted to change the channel, but she refused, enthralled as she watched S.E.R.E.—Search Evasion Rescue Escape—training and saw several men drop out and ring the bell that signaled their final surrender.

Jack answered her questions, trying to minimize the danger involved, but Melanie wasn’t fooled. The man sitting beside her had endured that training. He’d suffered crawling through mud, no sleep for days, eating food out of a trash can because that was all they’d been allowed the first days of training. Her admiration for Jack skyrocketed, and she tried to imagine him doing all that when she’d just seen him folding baby T-shirts and teasing her. It was like there were two men in him, and she admired the fact that both didn’t show at the same time.

He leaves his work in the field, she thought, and wondered about the women who chose to marry men like SEALs and Marine Recon and Special Forces,
who were the first ones in harm’s way. Those women must live in fear for their husbands’ lives the instant they walk out the door.

She was about to ask him about his buddies, but when she looked at him, he was asleep. She shut off the TV and moved to the edge of the sofa. Jack automatically stretched out his legs.

He’d look like a little boy if it wasn’t for the muscles in his shoulder and arms that didn’t relax. She stood, pulling an afghan over him.

His eyes flashed open and he started to sit up. “Sorry. Guess the sun today did me in.”

Alert and ready to move, she thought. “More like a six-month-old girl, I think. No, stay there,” she said, pushing him down into the cushions.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s late. Stay. See you in the morning.”

Melanie locked up the house, smiling at him as she walked toward her bedroom and thinking she didn’t have to worry about anyone breaking in, not when they had to get past a SEAL to do it.

The next morning Melanie’s alarm went off as usual, but when she stepped into her daughter’s room, she found the crib empty, and panic swept over her. Then she remembered Jack was here. Pulling on a robe, she walked into the living area and found him reading the paper and having coffee. Juliana was chasing cereal around the high-chair tray.

When the baby squealed, Jack lowered the paper. His gaze slid over Melanie like warm sheets on a cool morning, and Melanie tightened the sash of her robe.

“Morning,” he said, and his voice was like velvet.

“Hi. You’re up early.” It was a crime to look that good in the morning, she thought.

Jack inclined his head to Juliana. “She was having a conversation with the mobile. I figured I was better stimulation.”

Melanie smiled, said hello to the baby, then went into the kitchen for coffee. She returned and slid into the opposite chair, nursing the cup and thinking of the dreams that had plagued her half the night. All about Jack. Jack in danger, Jack walking through her door, Jack sitting across the table like he was right now. Jack making himself indispensable.

“I really should be getting a shower.” She started to rise.

“Relax. You have time. I’ve already fed Juliana.”

She lowered herself back into the chair.

“Hungry?” he asked, folding the paper and setting it aside.

“No, I can’t eat this early.”

Jack logged that into his memory.

“How was the sofa?”

“Lonely.”

“Jack.”

He just grinned. It was good to be here in the morning, he thought, and wondered how Melanie managed to get ready for work, what with the baby and short a pair of hands. “Does Diana show up this early?”

“No, not till I’m ready to leave. Juliana doesn’t take too well to my leaving her in the morning.”

Jack arched a brow. “She seems fine now.”

“Yes, well, she gets breakfast with Diana. Juli
ana’s not a morning person…well—” Melanie frowned at her daughter “—not usually.”

“Something to be said about having two parents around, huh?”

Melanie made a face. “Even if you were here all the time, you’d have to leave for work early, too.”

“I know. But I take about ten minutes to get ready.”

“Bully for the trained SEAL,” she said, and he laughed.