Single Dad Needs Nanny Page 11

  He lowered his head and lightly touched his mouth to hers. “You’re welcome.”

  Nikki grabbed the hammer she’d set aside and took out the last of her heightened emotions on the nails supporting the shelf—not least of which was frustration over his kiss. He knew it would redirect her thoughts to him.

  She felt better about her mom, but more confused about her feelings for him than ever. So did she bless him or curse him?

  Chapter Ten

  NOT long after he arrived at work Thursday morning, Trace looked up from where he sat at his desk and saw Nikki approaching the glass doors to the Sheriff’s station. She had her purse hooked over her shoulder, her phone to her ear, and maneuvered Mickey’s stroller one-handed. Her animated expression told him her attention was wholly focused on the conversation.

  He hopped to his feet, expecting the heavy glass door to be an obstacle, but it didn’t slow her down at all. She simply turned around and pushed her way in with her nicely rounded backside. He arrived in time to hold the door wide while she swung the stroller around.

  “I’m dropping Mickey off now,” she said into the phone, making his brow rise in question. “Yes, I called the doctor’s service again. They said they spoke to him and he’ll meet you at the hospital.” To Trace, she mouthed the words, “My sister is in labor.”

  Yeah, being a former detective, he’d figured that out.

  Nikki managed to appear both excited and exasperated as she spoke to her sister.

  “Do not call a cab. They’d have to come in from the city, and even coming from El Cajon would take fifteen to twenty minutes. Let me talk to Trace, then I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  She smiled and waved when Lydia came to the counter. “Yes, yes. Amanda, I’m hanging up now. Remember to breathe.”

  Disconnecting the call, Nikki let out a rush of air, and then she grinned big and did a little dance.

  “Amanda is in labor. I’m going to be an aunt.”

  “I gathered.”

  “I’m her labor coach. I have to go.” She bit her lower lip, the excitement replaced by a conciliatory cringe. “I tried Josh, but he’s working. And I didn’t know who else—”

  “Stop.” He held up a hand. “Go. Your sister needs you.” And Nikki needed to be with her sister. She’d fret terribly otherwise. “I’ll take care of Mickey.”

  “Thank you for understanding. Here’s his diaper bag. I couldn’t carry everything, so I left his car seat out by your SUV.” She wrinkled her nose sheepishly. “Hopefully nobody is foolish enough to steal from the Sheriff.”

  “Go. Take care of Amanda.” Trace took the diaper bag from her and handed over her purse, which she’d given to him instead. “Do you want me to drive you?”

  “No. Wow.” Her eyes went soft and wide as she thanked him. “You are so sweet, but we’ll be fine. I’ll feel better if I have my own car, in case I need to run and get anything. Plus, if my brother-in-law, Dan, doesn’t get here, I’ll need to drive us home. He’s in a training class in Florida. He was supposed to be back on Saturday, but he’s going to try to get leave to come home early.”

  “Hopefully that works out. Call me. Let me know how things are going. Or if you need anything.”

  “I will.” Her phone rang. “Oh, my God, I have to go. I’m going to be an aunt!” She gave him a big hug, Mickey a kiss and then ran out the door.

  Trace exchanged glances with Lydia. “So, do you think the roads are safe?” she asked.

  “I’d have insisted on driving if I didn’t think so. She’ll be all right once she’s on the road.” Slightly bemused, he shook his head. “She thought I was being sweet?”

  Lydia shrugged. “Most people don’t take their jobs as seriously as you do,” she explained.

  “It’s a serious job.”

  “Yes, it is. And you do it well. The whole town takes comfort in knowing you take the creed ‘To Protect and To Serve’ seriously.”

  He nodded, gratified by the acknowledgment.

  “But, Trace, just because your job is serious it doesn’t mean you always have to be. The girl thinks you were being sweet. Smile and enjoy the perks.”

  “Perks, hmm?” Trace had never really thought along those lines. He got paid for his job. Perks were neither necessary nor sought after. But what the hell? He couldn’t get much done in his office with Mickey here, and it would save him from having to hunt up a babysitter.

  “Daddy.” Mickey demanded Trace’s attention. He looked down to find little arms in the air. “Up.”

  He hefted the boy into his arms and then stowed the stroller in his office, out of the way. “Radio me if you need me,” he told Lydia on his way out the door. “I’m going to take Mickey for a haircut.”

  “Oh,” she lamented, “he’ll lose all those lovely curls.”

  Trace shoved on his sunglasses. “Exactly.”

  Ten minutes later he stood in the alien universe of What a Woman Wants, the new beauty salon in town. Arms crossed, he leaned against the wall in clear view of Mickey, who sat on a booster seat at one of the stations.

  Mickey shrank back from all the women fawning over him, and Trace plainly read the plea for escape his son sent his way. He commiserated, but held tough.

  “Sorry, buddy, but those curls are coming off. You’ll thank me when you’re older.”

  “Oh, but they’re so adorable,” a woman in huge curlers cooed. “How can you think of chopping them off?”

  Chirps of agreement rained down on him. He shrugged. “He’s a boy. Boys don’t have curls. Not in my family.”

  Oh, man. He sounded just like his dad. Instead of the thought bothering him, Trace decided to cut his dad a little slack. Obviously there were times when a father did know best. “I’m tired of people telling me what a cute daughter I have.”

  A twitter of giggles told him this crowd just didn’t understand.

  “Okay, that’s enough, ladies. Everyone back to their seats so I have room to work here.” Dani Wilder, owner of the shop, shooed the women away. The shapely redhead feathered long fingers through Mickey’s fine brown hair. “Mickey, you’re being such a good boy.”

  Her gentle way and soft touch eased Mickey. The exact reason Trace had braved the salon rather than take Mickey to the barbershop for his first haircut.

  “So, how short do you want to go?” Dani asked Trace.

  “I want him to look like a boy.”

  “Sheriff, you’re obviously a man with some nerve, who knows what he wants,” Dani said as she went to work on Mickey’s hair. “How do you think the Anderson endowment funds should be used?”

  Several female heads cocked in his direction, awaiting his response. Maybe the barbershop would have been a better choice after all.

  “Well, Ms. Wilder, it’s my job to keep the peace, not add to community unrest, so I think I’ll keep my opinion for the voters’ box.”

  She stopped her snipping to send him a chiding glance. “Which means you agree with the men.”

  “Or he doesn’t, but won’t allow his opinion to be used in the ongoing argument,” said Matilda Sullivan, reigning town matriarch, from her seat two stations down. “The Sheriff is a smart man, keeps a low profile. Snagged himself a pretty sharp gal as a nanny for this young one.”

  “Mrs. Sullivan,” he acknowledged her. Nikki hadn’t mentioned meeting the woman, but as a member of the town board Mrs. Sullivan would have been instrumental in approving Nikki to teach at the community center. “Keep your sights off my nanny.”

  Delighted, the petite woman laughed. “I’m not sure I can promise that. I only met her for a moment, but I’ve seen her credentials and her references. And my greatgrandson says she’s awesome.”

  Her exaggerated mimicking of her greatgrandson’s compliment made their avid audience chuckle.

  “Yes, she’s quite a catch,” he agreed, and immediately cringed internally as he considered how that sounded.

  “Well, well, is that a note of personal interest I detect, Sheriff?”<
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  “No,” he answered, a little too quickly.

  “Now, don’t be embarrassed.” The matron smiled knowingly. “It’s about time you started dating again. It’s hard after a loss, but you have to think of your son. You and Ms. Rhodes would make a delightful couple. Personally, I feel a man in a position of civic authority benefits from the input of a spouse.” Her chin rose in haughty disdain. “If our current mayor had a wife and family he might better understand the need for a cultural influence in our town.”

  Trace ducked his chin to keep from displaying his amusement. “Mrs. Sullivan, our current mayor is your grandson.”

  She actually sniffed. “Yes, and if Cord had listened to me and settled down to domestic bliss years ago, he’d be better qualified to address the needs of all the citizens of Paradise Pines.”

  “Ladies, you’re making this into a bigger issue than it needs—” He cut off when eight heads in various stages of coiffure snapped his way. Man, the comment about him and Nikki making a good couple must have thrown him off more than he thought, or he would have guarded his words better.

  “We’re making this a bigger issue than necessary?”

  Head at a regal tilt, ice dripped from the matriarch’s words.

  Uh-oh, he’d riled the beast.

  “I just meant—”

  “You were quite clear. But we’re not the ones who already had plans drawn up for a sports complex before the announcement of the endowment.”

  “Yeah,” chorused through the room.

  “On second thought, Sheriff, I’m glad to hear there’s nothing personal between you and Nikki Rhodes. She and my grandson would make a lovely couple. And she may be just what he needs to sway him. A sweet young thing with a master’s in Child Development might be just the weapon we need.”

  And the beast had a vicious bite.

  “All done,” Dani said, her pronouncement a cheerful trill in the tense room.

  Rescued. Before the atmosphere got any more hostile, he grabbed Mickey and made good his escape, wondering all the while if a lovely couple trumped a delightful couple.

  Nikki leaned against the wall and stared into the nursery at the beautiful sight of her new nephew. Little Anthony Amare had given his mother a bit of a bad time. But you’d never know it by the peacefulness of his slumber.

  Exhausted, emotion overflowing within her, Nikki needed the wall to hold her up. The day had been long, fraught with moments of drama between extended periods of waiting. Amanda had gone through twelve hours of labor, only to be rushed into surgery for an emergency C-Section at the last moment.

  It tore at Nikki’s heart that she hadn’t been able to go into surgery with her sister, but when the decision came they’d had to move too fast for Nikki to suit up.

  The baby hadn’t been dropping down as he should, and it turned out the cord had been wrapped around his neck. The thought of what could have happened made her heart pound double time.

  She was thankful, so thankful, that both baby and Mom had come through okay her knees threatened to buckle from relief. And the arrival of Dan added to the joy of the event.

  Knowing mom, dad and baby would soon be together brought tears to Nikki’s eyes. Amanda had been in post-op until a few minutes ago. Of course Nikki had sent Dan into her. And here she waited, keeping watch over Anthony until they came for him, too. The family deserved their privacy, but after the long, emotional day, it left her feeling a little alone.

  She couldn’t help but think of Trace, standing alone in front of a nursery window fourteen months ago, shocked by his wife’s death and bewildered and overwhelmed by the birth of his son. How did you celebrate the one while mourning the other?

  What a nightmare for a man who claimed he didn’t do emotion well.

  No wonder he’d accepted his in-laws’ offer of help. How easy it must have been to let distance grow between him and Mickey. And what a shame when they both needed each other so much.

  At least they were finally finding each other.

  Inside the nursery, little Anthony scowled and a lump rose in Nikki’s throat. Oh, yeah, he was a little Rhodes; he looked just like her dad when he frowned.

  She traced his cheek on the glass window, a new wave of emotion making her hand shake. How she wished her parents were here to see their first grandchild.

  “You’d be so proud,” she whispered. “I never knew, Mom, how big love for a baby could be. Not until Mickey. And now Anthony. I knew love, yeah. You and dad gave us that always. It was a constant in our lives. But this is so huge, so wonderful and scary. I know you’re up there, watching over us. And that Trace is right, and you probably don’t even remember our last fight. But I do, and I’m sorry.”

  “Nikki?” A hand cupped the small of her back as a man stopped next to her. “Are you okay?”

  Startled, she half turned—and looked into Trace’s calm green eyes. Without thought she threw herself into his arms, and sighed as he pulled her close into his warmth.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said into his chest. It only made it more perfect that Mickey slept, crushed between them. Her two guys in her arms. Nothing could be better.

  “Hey.” Trace lifted her chin on a gentle knuckle. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m wonderful.” She ran a hand over Mickey’s new haircut. “Big change.”

  “It had to be done.”

  “Looks good.” She pointed out Anthony in the nursery, and grinned as he admired the baby. “Mom and baby are both healthy and beautiful. Dan got here twenty minutes ago. Life is good.”

  “Then why the tears?” His concern, the sincere caring in his gaze, wiped her loneliness out in a single blow.

  “No tears.” She denied the wetness on her cheeks. “Not today.” And, using all her courage, launched herself onto her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss.

  “Nikki,” he groaned. Immediately he shifted her into the shelter of his free shoulder, deepened the angle of the kiss and devoured her mouth with his.

  As an energizer, passion really packed a kick. Nikki gave as good as she got, tangling tongues, drinking in the taste of him, immersing herself in the embrace. He felt so good she longed to find a flat surface and take the sizzling sensations to the next level.

  Finally time and place sank in, and she fell back on her heels, but she didn’t break away from him. Instead she snuggled close. The baby was born, Dan was back, finally she could relax her guard.

  His hand, warm and soothing, curled into her hair, making her feel cherished.

  “What was that for?” Desire deepened his pitch to velvet-covered gravel, rough and sensual.

  She licked her lips, tempted to tell him how happy she was to see him, how much she loved that he’d made such an effort to come see her. But it would be a selfish announcement, and it would probably scare the bejeezus out of him. So she simply shrugged and said, “It’s a day for miracles.”

  He raised his brows, but didn’t pursue it. Instead, he laid his lips softly on hers again, drawing out the moment before lifting his head. “Congratulations, Aunt Nikki.”

  Tears clogged her throat. Closing her eyes, she rested against him, savoring the warmth and contentment of being held by the man she loved, stealing these precious moments against a lifetime without him. Now that he and Mickey were bonding, she’d sent out résumés both to schools in San Diego and to a couple of the bordering counties.

  “Not that I’m complaining, but why are you here?” she asked him.

  “I got your message that you’d be staying over, and I brought you a comfort package.”

  “Really?” She leaned her head back to look up at him. His cheeks were a ruddy red—but from lingering arousal or embarrassment? Perhaps a bit of both? “You’re so sweet.”

  “You keep saying that, but I’m not sweet at all. I’m practical.”

  “Uh-huh. It’s practical to bring a baby out at eleven o’clock at night to bring me a comfort package?”


  The red deepened in his cheeks. “It was only nine when I picked up your message.”

  “Don’t fight it. You’re sweet.”

  “I’d much rather be practical. Or tough. Even cute is better than sweet.”

  “Well, you are all of those things,” she allowed, to make him happy, but she couldn’t lie. “And you’re sweet, too.”

  She laughed at his disgruntled grimace. Patting down his pockets, she demanded, “What did you bring me?”

  “Hold on.” He set her back on her own weight. “It’s in a bag here somewhere.”

  “A bag?” She stepped back to look, and nearly put her foot through the pretty pink package. It stood as high as her knees, and the width spanned a good eight inches. No tissue paper, and the handles were tied together—clear signs he’d done the packaging himself, which only made the gesture more special. A smaller blue bag had toppled on its side. “Oh, my. Trace, what did you get?”

  “It’s not much. I figured you’d have brought the essentials. These are just a few things to make a long night more comfortable. The smaller gift is for Amanda.”

  “I love surprise presents.” All signs of weariness disappeared as she peeked inside and spied something pale blue and fuzzy. “Let’s find somewhere comfortable to sit down. I can’t wait to open it.”

  As she led the way to the lobby, she told him about the delivery, and Dan’s late arrival.

  “So actually, now Dan’s here, I may grab a ride home. I’ll check with Amanda, but I’m sure they’d prefer to be alone.”

  “You can always come back tomorrow,” he assured her. “You don’t need to worry about Mickey. I’ve arranged for a sitter.”

  “You don’t mind if I take another day?” In the lobby she sank unto a sofa and patted the spot beside her. Trace laid Mickey down, then sat beside her.

  He shrugged her concern away. “You’ve covered for me plenty. Besides, it’s not every day a nanny becomes an aunt.”

  “No.” His easy acceptance of the altered schedule surprised her. This was not the same rigid man she’d met a month and a half ago. Mickey had been as good for his dad as Trace had been for Mickey.