The realization was both incredible and scary. What if he blew it? What if his daughter took one look at him and rejected him? Okay, the latter was unlikely. Just the day before she had reached for him as if she already knew who he was. He recalled the eager stretch of her arms in the air and the sensation of tenderness that had welled up inside him at her innocent smile.

On the walkway at the Hortons’ he paused, his hand on Melissa’s arm. “Wait.”

She turned a quizzical look on him. “Second thoughts?”

“No.” He swallowed hard. “What’s her name?”

“Sharon Lynn.”

He repeated it softly, just to hear how it sounded on his tongue. “I like it.”

“I’m not sure she’ll tolerate being called by both when she gets a little older, but for now that’s what we call her. My father tends to call her Pookie. I’m trying to break him of the habit. I will not have my child go through life being nicknamed Pookie. Missy is bad enough.”

He smiled at her and barely resisted the urge to reach over and brush a strand of auburn hair from her cheek. “I never called you Missy.”

“For which I was exceedingly grateful. That’s probably why I let you get away with so much.”

“You never let me get away with a thing,” he protested.

“That baby inside says otherwise.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” he said, grinning. “If I just whisper your name in your ear, you’ll do anything I ask, is that right?”

She frowned, probably at the sudden provocative note in his voice. He knew she didn’t want him to guess how easily he got to her. She was going to fight him tooth and nail.

“That was then,” she said staunchly, confirming his guess. “This is now and the tide has turned, cowboy.”

He readily accepted the challenge in her tone. “Is that so, Me...liss...a?” He deliberately drew her name out. Before she could react to the teasing, he lowered his head and dropped a quick kiss on her parted lips. “See, it still works.”

The startled, slightly dazed expression on her face almost tempted him to try again. That brief brush of his mouth over hers had been just enough to tantalize him. Memories of warm, moist kisses and stolen caresses slammed through him, turning teasing into something very, very serious.

How had he ever walked away from her? Why hadn’t he stayed and fought, just as she’d demanded earlier? Had it been the gut-deep sense of betrayal that had driven him all the way to Wyoming? Or had it simply been the even more powerful fear of the commitment to which fighting for her would have led? He’d never thought of himself as a coward, but suddenly he was taking a long, hard look at his actions in a whole new light.

“Cody?”