Alison Roberts - Single Dad Needs Nanny - Sheriff Needs a Nanny

“I thought you had a birthing class with your sister tonight. What are you doing here?”

“I do, but it’s later—not until eight. I came to pick up some things I left hanging in the laundry room.”

“In appreciation for the assistance, you’re welcome to join us for dinner. It’s only hot dogs and beans, but I’m firing up the grill.”

“Thanks, but I can’t. Amanda is stir-crazy, and since she has permission from her doctor for the classes, she’s sneaking dinner in first and calling it all one trip. But it’s a tempting offer.”

More tempting than it should be. Plain food in the company of the baby she spent all day watching. Like Amanda, Nikki should be thrilled at an outing away from the house. Instead, she felt curiously deflated as she turned away from daddy and son.

“Okay,” he said easily. “Thanks for the help.”

“Good night.” She grabbed her things from the dryer and let herself out the backdoor. Was it her imagination, or had he sounded a little disappointed?

“THE Mayor’s office called.” Lydia popped her head inside the door to his office. “He’s asked the city council to meet at Sampson Hall twenty minutes before the community meeting.”

Trace nodded, glanced at the clock on the wall, saw he had over an hour and went back to his report. He’d found it hard to concentrate today, his thoughts constantly traveling back to the scene a couple of nights ago. He’d come close to getting extremely unprofessional with his nanny.

He so couldn’t go there.

Mickey needed her. Beyond that she was a complication Trace couldn’t afford.

The door to the station opened and in walked the subject of his thoughts. She pushed Mickey in his stroller, with a long, shallow basket perched on the hood over the boy’s head.

Everything in Trace came to attention, his body reacting to the long stretch of her legs in skinny black jeans, the teasing pop of a pink tank at the hem and the cleavage under her fitted white shirt even as his mind raced with questions and concern at her appearance.

What was she doing here?

He rose and rounded his desk, watching her chat and laugh with Lydia. Her easy manner eliminated his worry, but not his disquiet.

He shrugged at the tension in his shoulders. He didn’t want her here. This place belonged to him—well, and the citizens of Paradise Pines. The point was he needed someplace safe as a retreat from her intoxicating presence. But, no, interfering woman that she was, she had to invade his workspace.

Oh, yeah, he was in serious trouble.

As soon as he stepped out of his office he got hit with the savory scent of fried chicken, which reminded him of the potluck dinner at tonight’s community meeting. He had an order of fried chicken himself, to pick up from the diner. The scent grew stronger as he approached the front counter, but he was quickly distracted by the tail-end of Nikki’s introductions.

“It’s so nice to put a face with a name. It’s always good to know when Trace is going to be late. Have you met Trace’s son, Mickey?”

Lydia had her elbows on the high counter to help her see down to Mickey’s level. The little boy looked up at her with solemn eyes. He switched his gaze to Trace, frowned, and then twisted in his seat, obviously seeking out Nikki’s reassuring presence.

She casually moved to the side of the stroller, giving him a clear view of her, and Mickey settled back into his seat. At the same time she moved the cloth-covered basket to the counter.

“Hey,” she greeted Trace, her dimple flashing as she smiled.

“Trace, your nanny just introduced me to your son. I never heard you had a child. All this time I’ve chattered away about my grandkids and you never mentioned you had a little boy.” Lydia’s teasing reprimand held more than a hint of hurt. “He’s so precious.”

Damn, moments like this were exactly why he liked to keep his private life separate from his public service. Personal exchanges required too many complex twists of emotional discourse. So what if he suffered occasional bouts of loneliness? He preferred things simple.

“Thanks. He’s only been with me a short time. His grandmother has been caring for him while I got settled.” Trace hated to explain himself, to expose his personal life, but it was that or subject himself and Mickey to the gossip mill for civic entertainment. That he couldn’t tolerate.

“Well and fine. I bet you’ve missed him every day.” Lydia gave a sympathetic nod.

“It’s been hard,” Trace acknowledged, “but we’re together now.” He focused his attention on his wayward nanny. “Ms. Rhodes, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“They called from the diner to say your order was ready.” She lifted the red gingham napkin, revealing two dozen pieces of fried chicken. “Mickey and I were looking for something to do, so we decided to save you a trip and pick it up.”

It looked as good as it smelled. Her homey touch adding to the presentation. Who knew he even owned a gingham napkin?

“You didn’t need to do that,” he informed her.

“I know.” She glanced at Lydia and shrugged. “He’s the perfect boss. He never wants me to go out of my way for him.”

“You’re a nanny, not a housekeeper.” Again with the explanations. How much easier if she’d stayed at home.

Not once had Donna come to visit him at work, and he never remembered his mom dropping in on his dad. Of course if she’d ever shown more interest in what the old man did, got him talking about it, maybe he would have found it easier to express himself at other times. And if his dad had been better at communication maybe his son would be, too.

“Don’t worry, there’s no extra charge.” Nikki waved off his clarification. Instead she grinned and gave an exaggerated look around. “All it’s going to cost you is a tour of the place. I’ve never been in a sheriff’s station before. Do you have cells here?”

“We have a couple of holding cells.” Now, there was a thought. Maybe one of those could hold her long enough to give him a few minutes’ peace. He took control of the stroller and started toward the back hall. “Grab the chicken. We’ll begin with my office.”

“Don’t forget your meeting with the Mayor and the city council before the community meeting starts,” Lydia called after them. He waved an acknowledgment.

For someone who always seemed to move at a slow glide, Nikki easily kept pace. “I really do want a tour, but if you don’t have time I understand. I know the meeting starts in an hour. We can do this another time if you like.”

What he’d like was her pressed up against his office wall, with the door shut and the blinds closed…

He almost tripped over his own feet as the scene played out in his head.

“Are you okay?” she asked when he came to a dead stop.

“Yeah, fine.” Holy heck, where had that come from? “On second thought—” he made a U-turn away from his office “—let’s put the chicken in the kitchen.”

The illicit vision was wrong on so many levels, yet so vivid he practically tasted her on his lips.

He was the Sheriff, this was his office, she was his employee. And those were only the obvious objections. He had a son to worry about—a son who needed her more than Trace needed his libido ignited.

If none of that existed he still wouldn’t act on the crazy desire. She was all about love and commitment, and he’d already proved he knew next to nothing about those commodities.

“Have you always wanted to be a cop?” Nikki asked Trace as they neared the end of the impromptu tour. Pride in what he did showed in every word he said as he took her through the small station. She’d been booked, fingerprinted and was about to be processed.