“You knew I would,” Melissa told her mother. “Where’s Sharon Lynn?”

“Down for her nap,” she said, a note of triumph in her voice. “There’s no need to wake her.”

Cody was aware of the undercurrents between mother and daughter. Clearly, Velma was angry about his presence. Once again he had the sense that she feared him having any contact at all with his child.

Melissa shot him a vaguely apologetic look. “I’ll get her,” she said.

He fell into step beside her. “Don’t wake her. I’ll come with you. Let me just look at her for now. Your mother’s right. There’s no need to wake her yet.”

If he had expected the suggestion to gain Velma’s approval, he failed. He should have saved his breath. An expression of doom on her face, she trailed along behind them. He had the feeling she would have thrown herself across the threshold to the bedroom if she’d thought it would keep him away from her granddaughter.

He couldn’t waste time worrying about Velma, though. From the instant he stepped into the room his gaze was riveted to the child asleep in the crib. She was sleeping on her stomach, her legs drawn up under her, her butt sticking up in the air. He couldn’t imagine the position being comfortable, but she was sleeping soundly.

Awestruck, he moved closer to the crib. Melissa stayed a few steps behind him. Her mother never budged from the doorway. He studied the tiny, balled-up fists. Her skin looked soft as down and her light curls feathered around her face like wispy strands of silk. Her mouth curved like a miniature bow of pink. She was perfect. Adorable.

An overwhelming surge of protectiveness spread through him. This was his daughter. His! He’d seen Luke with the newborn Angela. He had watched Jordan hold J.J., but he had never guessed the depth of emotions that his brothers must have been feeling. He’d never experienced anything like it before in his life.

“She’s so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice choked.

“She has your eyes, your hair,” Melissa said quietly.

“And your mouth,” he noted. “I had no idea.”

“No idea about what?”

“That it was possible to create anything so perfect.”

Melissa laughed softly. “You haven’t seen her throw a tantrum yet.”

He turned toward her and grinned. “Ah, so she has your temper, too?”

“Oh, no,” Melissa protested. “You’re not blaming me for that. Every ounce of stubbornness she possesses she got from you.”

Gazing directly into her eyes, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Thank you.”

“For?”

He wasn’t certain how to explain all that he was grateful to her for. For having the baby, even without him in her life. For keeping her healthy and safe. For loving her. So many things.

“For our daughter,” he said simply.