"Well, I'm asking now. I want Patrick to see flowers and smiles. I want him to hear laughter and songs, everything a baby deserves for a welcome." The playful glint faded altogether. "Can you do that for me? For Patrick."
He still didn't feel much like smiling, but she was right in thinking he would. Because she'd asked and those glistening green eyes had haunted his dreams.
Zach nodded, letting his face pull up in his one-sided grin.
"Thank you," she whispered, gifting him with a smile in return so damned sweet it twisted the knife in his gut a double rotation.
He wanted to pull her to him, and not because of any hormones, but because he somehow knew that in spite of all of her bravado, she needed to be held.
"Colonel?"
"Yeah, Julia?"
"I'll take him back now."
He gave her a brusque nod and waited for her to sit on the edge of the bed. He passed the baby with careful hands, reluctant to let the little guy go.
Zach was careful not to touch the little guy's mama.
A solid knock on the door punctured the silence, and he winged a prayer of gratitude for the interruption.
"Come in," Julia called with a voice huskier than it should have been.
The door swooshed open, admitting Doctor Kathleen Bennett, a flight surgeon from the base. Bennett made a sharp officer in her spit-polished combat boots and camouflage BDUs—maternity-sized.
Major Kathleen Bennett, the very pregnant wife of Captain Tanner Bennett, who was stranded in the air with busted nose gear.
Zach's eyes darted to the radio. He couldn't have requested a more effective dousing for the strange impulses that had gripped him since he'd walked in on Julia Sinclair nursing her son. This scenario held too much similarity to the one eight months ago. A pregnant military wife with a husband in the air in a potentially dangerous situation.
Not that he could tell Kathleen Bennett a thing now. No need to worry her when he would make damned sure that plane landed safely.
The radio cackled from beside the rolling bassinet. "Wolf One, Command Post. Over."
Zach snatched up the LMR before it blared info neither of these women needed to hear.
"Wolf One, hold please. Over." He reached for the door. "That's my cue to leave.
Bennett, you're heading home after this, right?" he asked, hoping he wouldn't have to use the information to contact her.
"This is my last stop on rounds, sir."
"Good." He nodded. "Julia, call me if you need anything. I mean it now. Anything."
"My tires are under warranty." Julia held up a hand before he could speak. "But thank you for offering. I'll let you know."
He flashed a thumbs-up and strode out the door. If only he could close the door as easily on the vision burned in his brain of Julia's mile-long legs and tear-filled eyes.
* * *
Julia watched the door hiss shut behind Zach. Sounds from the hall muted—the rattle of a medicine cart, a television blaring laughter.
The fading echo of his boots thudding on tile.
She'd imagined a kazillion times what his reaction would be when he found out about Patrick. Never had she imagined she would want him to hold her. She'd accepted the reality of those test results months ago and faced any grief over the trials her child would face.
So where had the urge to tuck herself against Zach's broad chest come from? It was a reckless urge that would only lead her into accepting more of his help.
Julia turned to Kathleen, her military doctor since flight surgeons treated flyers as well as their families. Kathleen wasn't an ob/gyn, but she had consulted through Julia's pregnancy. Beyond that, Kathleen had lent support, even standing in as a coach during the delivery.