Before she could speak, he kissed her hard, closing his arms around her and pulling her body flush against his so there was no doubt in her mind what he meant, what he wanted.
Then he let her go, spun about and climbed into his car. He drove away, leaving Melanie weak-kneed and wanting, and distrusting her own judgment.
Jack felt the change between them, the strength of the bond that went beyond the child, but he kept it to himself. Melanie was a strong woman, but trusting a man again scared the living daylights out of her. She deserved to be wary, and he still wanted to pulverize the men who’d hurt her.
He glanced at the woman pushing the stroller beside him in the park. Did she realize, as he had, that they’d fallen into a routine with each other? She might sleep alone every night, but she knew he was there. Just as he couldn’t forget what it was like to wake up beside her, to feel her long legs and arms wrapping him.
“That’s not the look of a proud father,” she said softly from beside him.
He smiled at the flush in her cheeks. “No Galahad here,” he murmured, adding a long velvety look over her body. It had become a joke between them, a message only they understood. He’d kiss her or touch her, she’d warn him off and he’d claim not to be Sir Galahad. Jack knew the only thing keeping them apart was her distrust. He was trying to earn her trust, though he hadn’t given her any reason to distrust him. He was paying for some other man’s crime, and while Jack wanted to bide his time, he was running out of it too quickly.
They’d circled the park and were heading back to Melanie’s place when she paused near a bench to adjust the restraining strap of the stroller. An elderly woman sitting there was feeding the ducks that lingered near the small pond.
“Oh, aren’t you a pretty little thing!” she said to Juliana, and leaned out to brush her fingers over the baby’s hair.
Juliana gurgled and made bubbles for the woman.
“Thank you. We think so,” Melanie said.
The woman looked up at Melanie. “She has your husband’s eyes.”
“Oh, we’re not married,” Melanie said without thinking, and instantly cursed her thoughtlessness.
The woman blinked, first glaring at them, then offering the child a look of pure pity that Melanie couldn’t ignore.
“You poor dear,” she cooed. “Raised a bastard because of selfish parents.”
Jack stiffened and pulled the stroller well back from the old woman. “I see that being inexcusably crass has nothing to do with age,” he snapped.
Melanie looked between him and her child, fighting the welling of tears.
The woman sniffed, then huffed out an indignant breath. “Well, it’s your own fault, you know. I won’t be the first—or the last to say it, either, young man. You ought to be thinking of this innocent child and not yourselves. Since you weren’t thinking of her when you made her.”
Melanie gasped, then grabbed the stroller and wheeled it away. Jack clenched his fists at his side and being an officer and a gentleman, refrained from telling the woman exactly what he thought of her.
He went after Melanie.
“Don’t say anything,” Melanie muttered without stopping.
“Melanie, honey, stop.”
“Damn that old bat.” On her front steps, Melanie burst into tears. “How could she say that to my baby!”
Jack swept his arms around her. “Shh.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head and Melanie sobbed. Juliana chimed in. “Come on.” He ushered his women into the house.
Once inside, Melanie sat on the sofa and cuddled the baby. Juliana continued to whimper.
“Melanie, hon, you’re scaring Juliana.”
“I know, I know. Help me, please.” She handed the child to him and went to wash her face. In the bathroom she sobbed with helpless anger, and when she came back, he’d put the baby in her crib.
Melanie went to go check on her, but Jack stopped her. “She’s fine.”
She scowled. “Let me go.”
“You’re upset and she knows it. Come on, relax a little.”
“I don’t want to relax. I want to stay mad.”
“Good, then let’s talk about this.” He urged her toward the sofa.
“We’ve done that.” She plopped into the cushions.
“Have I asked you to marry me again? Have I reminded you that we should do this for her and not us?”
Melanie felt battered by her own words and feelings. “No,” she admitted, “you haven’t.” She snatched up a pillow and plucked at the edges when she wanted to punch that old woman. “But nothing has really changed, has it? We’re not going to see marriage in the same way. You see names on paper and I see lifetimes.”