Rookie Cop. Nikki Benjamin

Megan’s house. He might as well stop by and let her know how the investigation was going, as he’d promised that morning.

      She hadn’t seemed pleased with the idea, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. He wanted to see her, and surprisingly, he wanted to see the baby, too. Not all of the memories of Will that little Matthew had stirred in him had been painful ones.

      He wouldn’t stay long, though. Especially if she seemed less than thrilled with his company. He didn’t want to upset her any more than she probably was already.

      As he climbed the steps to Megan’s front porch, Jake heard the sound of a baby crying through the door. His first instinct was to turn and walk away rather than intrude. The pitiful sound tugged at his heart, reminding him of all the times Will had made his own unhappiness known in exactly the same way. But the thought that Megan might be feeling rather frazzled after a day alone with a possibly cranky baby had him pressing a finger against the doorbell instead.

      The door swung open after a few moments. Megan, clasping the wailing baby in her arms—and appearing to be just on the safe side of panicky—gazed at him, first with surprise, then with such obvious relief that Jake knew he’d made the right move.

      “Thank goodness,” she said, holding the baby out to him without the slightest hesitation. “Take Matthew for me, will you? I dropped the can of formula while I was trying to fill a bottle for him, and I’ve been having a devil of a time trying to open another one. I can’t put him down because then he really starts to shriek, poor baby.”

      Jake took Matthew from her wordlessly, remembering with amazing ease how to position his hands to best support the baby’s head and back. He was such a tiny mite, hardly weighing anything, so fragile and so vulnerable that Jake wanted only to cradle him close and keep him safe from all harm.

      Matthew, his face red and damp with tears, stared at him through watery eyes for several seconds. Then he screwed up his tiny mouth and let out an outraged yowl, obviously not happy to be passed off to a stranger of the masculine persuasion. Feeling totally inadequate, Jake stepped into the house, shoved the door shut with one booted foot and followed Megan to the kitchen.

      “Just a couple of minutes more,” she advised, glancing over her shoulder at him as he paused uncertainly in the doorway. A pool of formula spread across the countertop and dripped down the front of a cabinet to spatter the tile floor, but she seemed much calmer as she warmed a bottle. “Why don’t you sit at the table with him?”

      Jake sat on one of the oak ladder-back chairs cushioned in a bright yellow flower print that matched the curtains at the window. He tried to soothe the baby with gentle pats on the back, but Matthew was having none of it. He was hungry and he wanted everyone within earshot to know it.

      “Here you go.” Megan came up beside his chair, holding out the bottle she’d prepared.

      “Oh, hey, why don’t you feed him?” Jake shifted in his chair and tried to hand the baby to her, sure that she could do a better job of it than he.

      “I want to clean up the formula I spilled before the mess gets any worse,” she said as she set the bottle on the table and turned away. Taking a dishcloth from one of the drawers and wetting it under the faucet, she added, “You remember how to give a baby a bottle, don’t you?”

      “Yes, of course,” he muttered as he shifted Matthew from his shoulder to the crook of his arm and reluctantly reached for the bottle.

      He could only hope that, like holding a baby, feeding one was a skill he’d learned for life.

      As if aware that dinner was about to be served at last, the baby stopped crying, waved his arms excitedly and made little smacking sounds with his mouth.

      “Hungry, are you?” Jake asked, smiling in spite of being nervous as Matthew latched onto the nipple and started to suck.

      He remembered Megan showing him how to tilt the bottle with Will so he wouldn’t gulp down air bubbles along with the formula, and did the same with Matthew. Whether consciously or not, the baby put his tiny hand on Jake’s as he held the bottle. His smile deepening, Jake took the gesture as a sign of approval and relaxed considerably. He was doing okay with the baby, and he felt damn good about it.

      “Thanks, Jake.” Megan glanced at him gratefully, then finished wiping down the cabinet. “Your timing couldn’t have been any better. I was just about ready to lose it. I’d forgotten how hard it could be taking care of a baby, single-handed.”

      “Hey, no problem. I’m glad I could help out,” Jake assured her.

      “I was actually doing okay until the can of formula got away from me…”

      Her words trailing off, Megan rinsed the dishcloth in the sink, then stooped down to mop up the puddle on the floor.

      His attention caught by the slightly defensive edge he heard in Megan’s voice, Jake shifted his gaze to her. There was a rigid set to her shoulders as she scrubbed at the floor. Obviously, she had doubts about her ability to care for Matthew on her own, and that surprised him, considering how often she had coped on her own with Will.

      “I’m sure you were doing just fine,” he said, offering her the reassurance she seemed to need.

      “Well, I’m not,” she muttered as she stood to rinse out the dishcloth again.

      “You did just fine with Will all those times I was away,” he reminded her, then realized, too late, that he’d opened a door on the past she probably would have preferred to leave closed.

      But he’d been doing what she preferred for almost a year now. How could talking about the past, about Will, be any worse then continuing to act as if nothing had happened?

      Slowly Megan turned to look at him, her pale gray eyes flashing angrily.

      “No, I didn’t do just fine with Will all those times you were away. I did the best I could because I didn’t have any other choice.”

      “But you never said anything,” he protested, his own defenses going up.

      She had never once complained of feeling inadequate. Nor had she ever seemed overwhelmed by the responsibilities of motherhood. How was he supposed to have known?

      “What could I have said, Jake? Please don’t get involved in another high-profile undercover case that will take you away for weeks at a time. Stay home with me instead, and help me take care of our baby. Would you have asked to be reassigned to office duty for even six months? Would you, Jake, honestly and truthfully?” She turned her back on him again and shut off the faucet with a snap of her wrist, adding quietly, “I didn’t think so, so I didn’t ask.”

      She was right, of course. He had been too damn involved in climbing the bureau’s ladder to consider taking time away from his undercover work. But maybe if she’d let him know how she had been feeling, he could have made some compromises on her behalf. Maybe if she’d told him what a hard time she sometimes had with the baby instead of soldiering on in silence he would have made an effort to be there for her more often. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t have.