She sneaked a look at the silent man in front of her and wondered if he'd noticed her momentary insanity. If so, that inscrutable expression of his probably covered horrified shock. Like he would actually go into testosterone meltdown over a puffy, post-partum woman in purple pajama shorts.
"Okay, then." He set his LMR on the bedside table and held out his hands, palms up. "At least let me take the little guy in case you're shaky."
Thoughts of sparks and comfort cooled. Her arms tightened instinctively around the bundled baby.
Zach waited, hands unwavering. "I haven't dropped one yet. Promise."
Julia pulled a small smile, but couldn't make herself let go. She wasn't ready. She didn't want to share Patrick.
Or face the inevitable questions.
For just a moment longer, she wanted this day to be as normal as possible. She'd endured enough consolations and platitudes the past eight months to fill the Atlantic. She couldn't stomach any more.
In spite of what others might think, she refused to see Patrick's birth as anything other than a blessing. How could anyone use a harsh word like defect in regards to her child?
To her, he was perfect.
Which meant she needed to set an open, positive tone up front. She would show Patrick a world full of possibility, not limitations. Her son wouldn't be sheltered. Protected definitely, but never hidden away.
"Thanks, Colonel. Just be extra careful with his head." With hands a little shakier than she would have liked, Julia passed over the sleeping infant into Lieutenant Colonel Dawson's callused hands.
She made damn sure she didn't touch him in the process.
Swinging her legs from under the blanket, Julia kept her eyes trained on her toes and waited for the commander's reaction. Should she have simply told him? Maybe it wasn't fair to expect unconditional acceptance when he hadn't been prepared.
Why wouldn't he say something? Anything? Even question her?
She respected, trusted this man's integrity so much. If he didn't react with grace and composure, what could she expect from the rest of the world?
Her heart filled with a fierce protectiveness for her baby. Damn it, she would down a mountain lion for her kid.
Even take on one daunting "wolf' if need be.
Chin tipped defensively for battle, she looked up to find Zach's steady hands cradling her son against his shoulder.
Those hands palmed Patrick's back and head like a seasoned veteran.
Maybe she would find the reassurance in his face as well as his hands. Letting her gaze travel farther, she sought Zach Dawson's brown eyes and found them...
Not staring at Patrick, but at Julia's bare legs.
Chapter 2
Zach couldn't drag his eyes off Julia Sinclair's legs propped atop the sterile white hospital blankets.
The allure of those legs blindsided him like a bogey from his six o'clock. Granted, they were mighty incredible. Likely the best he'd ever seen—long, slim, with just the right mix of toned muscle and soft curves.
Awesome legs he had no business checking out.
His gaze snapped up to her face—her very surprised face. And she didn't know the half of it. One hint of all the images churning through his head, and she would bash him over the head with a flower arrangement.
One hint that he was mired in an investigation of her husband, and she would do more than bash him over the head.
Zach looked away, studying the It's a Boy balloon bobbing beside a plastic pitcher as if it held a full flight plan inscribed on its blue surface. He didn't speak. Apologizing for his unguarded stare could only make the situation more awkward.
Julia eased to her feet, standing almost eye-level with him, a novelty for Zach as he usually developed a crick in his neck from leaning when he talked to a woman.
Or kissed a woman.