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

“I didn’t come for a nap. I brought home a file last night to go through before my meeting today and I forgot it this morning.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “Which means you came in, sat down and conked out. I think that says something.”

Picking up a couple of plastic blocks from the floor, he placed them on the tray of Mickey’s walker. The boy immediately grabbed one in each hand and clapped them together.

When she was right, she was right. Deciding to drop an argument he couldn’t win, Trace addressed a new issue. “I told you not to bother doing my laundry.”

“I’m not doing your laundry. I’m doing Mickey’s laundry,” she said, as she shook out another extra-large T-shirt, crisply folded it and set it on top of two others.

“Either those are my shirts, or you’re dating a man named Mickey.”

She grinned. “They are your shirts. But I only threw them in because I needed to fill up the load. You wouldn’t want me to waste important resources, would you?”

“You always have an answer, don’t you?”

Standing, he rubbed a hand over Mickey’s downy soft hair. He was now trying to eat the blocks. Trace maneuvered the walker into the middle of the room, giving Mickey space to move around. He immediately pushed himself back three inches. Backward was his main directional pull. He still needed to master forward.

“I am a teacher. I’m supposed to have the answers.”

Trace hid a chuckle in a cough. Not wise to encourage the woman. She already challenged his authority at every curve. But she did make him laugh.

“And the towels?” He fingered the stack next to his shirts.

She shrugged. “I love the feel and smell of a warm towel fresh from the dryer. It’s a small delight. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Liar.”

“Moi?” she asked, all innocence. “Not about this.”

“You’re spoiling me, Ms. Rhodes.” Loose gold tendrils curled over her ears, and he fought the desire to test the sunshine softness. “And I like it too much.”

Her eyes flashed. “I think we’re past the Ms. Rhodes stage, don’t you?”

“I think it’s prudent.”

“And I think it’s too late for that.”

“You mean, because of the kiss?” Of course because of the kiss. The taste of her, the feel of her in his arms, still haunted him.

“Yeah.” She met his gaze, then looked away, checking on Mickey in the living room. And Little Miss Ostrich surprised him when she asked, “You want to talk about it?”

“Absolutely not. I’m doing my best to forget it ever happened.”

That earned him a coy glance from under dark lashes. “How’s that working for you?”

“It’s not. But it’s prudent.”

“Hmm.” She seemed to consider his diversionary tactics. “I thought you believed in confronting issues head-on.”

“Well, Teach, I’m learning new things from you all the time.” He grinned when she rolled her eyes.

She continued to tuck and fold, and he sighed. Maybe she’d brought it up for reasons of her own. “Do you want to talk about the kiss?”

Her brow furrowed while she thought over his question. The myriad of emotions in her amazing golden eyes matched much of what he felt: confusion, attraction, regret and more.

“Yes,” she finally allowed. But she chewed her lip, not saying anything further, obviously struggling for the right words.

Feeling defensive, he assured her, “You don’t have to worry. I promise it won’t happen again.”

Her gaze on his mouth, half wistful, she nodded. “It can’t happen again. It’s more than just professional ethics, it’s written right into my contract. And I have to stay close to Amanda in case she needs me. I can’t risk losing this job.”

“Of course.” The tension in his shoulders eased as he realized she hadn’t found his kiss objectionable. It was the situation she stressed over. He shouldn’t care, as the kiss wouldn’t be repeated, but somehow he did.

“There’s Mickey to think of, too,” she added, concern evident in her earnest expression. “He may get confused by a change in our relationship. He’s making such good progress we don’t want to do anything to jeopardize his growth.”

“You’re probably right.”

“It’s prudent.” With a small smile, she echoed his earlier assurance. “There is something else I’d like to talk to you about. If you’re not going back to work, I thought you might grill some steaks and we could eat out on the deck and talk.”

“I should go back.” He checked his watch, saw there was only an hour left of his scheduled time. He’d put in a lot of extra hours lately, so he could justify the time off. And sitting down to a meal and conversation with Nikki sounded really good. All the more reason he should get his butt to work.

“Let me check in with Lydia. If it’s still quiet, I’ll stay and grill.”

“Great.” She smiled her pleasure. “I’ll get these clothes put away and start on a salad.” Stacking baby shirts on top of baby pants, she headed toward Mickey’s room.

Trace sat on the couch to make his call. He met his son’s gaze across the room. “Whatever you do, don’t leave us alone tonight.”

Every day her attraction for the handsome Sheriff grew stronger. The sooner father and son connected and she could move on the better. For them. And for her. Nikki watched through the kitchen window as the boys “grilled.”

Trace had changed into a sky-blue polo shirt that emphasized the width of his shoulders, and a pair of khaki shorts that came to his knees but left his muscular calves on display. He made one fine view.

While he wielded the spatula, he instructed Mickey on the finer points of barbecuing. Mickey listened and chewed on a teething biscuit.

Male bonding at its best. Just as she’d planned. Not scheduled was the joy she took in the family moment.

For a man who held himself aloof, who claimed to have no capacity for emotion, he was amazingly insightful and compassionate. Nikki suspected it wasn’t that Trace didn’t acknowledge his feelings, it was that he felt things so deeply, and if he allowed himself to feel he couldn’t do the work he did without being torn apart inside.

He looked up and met her gaze through the window. He smiled, and butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Not a good sign.

“Steaks are ready,” he called.

She waved an acknowledgment, gathered the baked potatoes and salad bowl and joined the boys outside. Under the shade of the umbrella the summer air felt warm against her skin, but the breeze gave the evening a balmy feel.

“This is nice.” Trace set the platter of steaks on the table. “Good idea.”

Easy conversation followed while they ate. She found out they shared a taste for action movies and biographies, but couldn’t be further apart when it came to music and Chinese food. His growing sense of humor delighted her.

They talked briefly about the big announcement made at the community meeting. Nikki had been babysitting the kids, but her sister had filled her in on the Anderson endowment, gifting funds and property to Paradise Pines for community development.

“Is it true the men already have plans drawn up for a new sports complex?”

“It’s no more aggressive than the women hiring an architect for a museum.”

“Please. The cultural significance of a museum over a sports park couldn’t be more blatant.”

“Kids want to go to the park. They have to be made to go to a museum.”

“That doesn’t make the need for culture any less important in their development.”

“So you’re siding with the women?” Even he heard the sarcasm in the question.

She gave him an arch stare. “I am a woman, and I help shape young minds as a living. I can’t believe you don’t see the value of learning over play.”