Single Dad Needs Nanny: Sheriff Needs a Nanny. Alison Roberts
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who he goes to.”
Lifting Mickey from her lap, setting him at the top of the blanket facing the two of them, she prayed this worked. She believed Mickey loved Trace, but he also cared for her. The truth was he could go either way.
She scooted back a few inches as Trace moved into position opposite her. He rested his hands on his knees and looked at her. “It’s all right if he goes to you.”
Mickey sat plump and happy at the edge of the cloth. He looked at her. She smiled and subtly nodded toward Trace. Mickey took the hint and turned his green gaze on his dad.
Yes. Relieved and excited, Nikki held her breath. He was going to choose Trace.
But he didn’t. Back and forth went his little head. A frown began to pucker. Uh-oh.
“It’s okay, baby boy.” She softly reassured him.
“Hey.” Trace shook a finger at her. “No trying to sway him from the sidelines.”
Rolling her eyes, she said, “You are such a guy.”
The scrutiny he leveled on her was all male. “Never doubt it.”
Fat chance of that, she thought, feeling the potency of him shiver through her. She never forgot he was man to her woman.
At that moment Mickey rolled to his knees. Nikki tensed, urging him with her mind to crawl to his father.
He didn’t.
But he didn’t come her way, either.
He headed straight down the center, toward the chocolate-chip cookies.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Trace swooped Mickey up.
Nikki laughed. “Look at that. He’s already a diplomat.”
“That’s my boy.”
Standing in front of Trace, Mickey immediately started in on his new favorite thing, jumping. Pumping and pushing, he squealed in joy. With his new diet he’d put on some weight and become quite the handful, yet Trace handled him easily.
“Well, there’s no doubt you’re his favorite right now.”
“Yeah. It’s good to see him thriving.” He looked at her over Mickey’s head. “Thank you.”
“Hey, we’re a team.”
Trace went statue-still. Even Mickey stopped and looked at her. “I like the sound of that,” Trace said.
Mickey put his hand out toward Nikki and she reached for him, but before they connected he suddenly broke away from Trace and took a step toward Nikki.
“Trace, look,” she whispered, to keep from spooking the baby. “He’s walking.” She pulled her hand back a couple of inches, enticing him to take a couple more steps. He rushed those steps and fell into her arms. “Oh, my God, Trace. Did you see that? He walked.
“Oh, aren’t you smart? Come here, you.” Thrilled with his cleverness, she rained kisses all over his face. He grabbed her hair and hung on, giggling infectiously.
“He’s brilliant.” Trace clapped his hands, making Mickey laugh and clap, too. “Let’s see if he’ll do it again.”
“All right.” She grinned at Trace, and the pride and wonder on his face made her breath catch. She turned Mickey around and put him on his feet.
“Go to Daddy.”
She wondered if he’d try to crawl again, but he didn’t even hesitate. Hands flailing to help with his balance, he took off walking. He crossed the two-feet distance between her and Trace in a stumbling rush that almost ended in a fall, but Trace caught him and pulled him close.
“We’re in for it now.” Trace kissed Mickey on the top of his head and praised him lavishly. “If the way he took to the walker is any indication, we’re going to be running to catch up with him from now on out.”
Tears burned at the back of her eyes. This was the first time she’d seen Trace display more than casual physical affection for his son. Little pats and an occasional rub of his head were the usual for him. It seemed to be the day for baby steps.
“I’m so glad you were here for his first steps,” she said, looking away from the pride in his eyes. Silently she groaned, because she had just realized Mickey might not have fallen, but she had. She was falling hard for Mickey’s dad. And she might never recover.
How funny was that? A free spirit falling for a control freak. Not exactly a match made in heaven.
“You’re right,” she whispered. “Life will never be the same again.”
“Sit down,” Trace invited the next evening. He set his plate of spaghetti on the table and pulled out a chair. “You can tell me what you’ve been wanting to talk to me about.”
“Oh.” Suddenly nervous about her news, Nikki decided it might be better to catch him later, when he was fresher and not just home from a long day at work. “You’re tired. We can talk about it tomorrow.”
Her nerves must have shown, because he nailed her with a stare. “We’ve already put it off several times. You’ve mellowed me out with spaghetti and meatballs, one of my all-time favorites. The timing doesn’t get much better than this.”
Uh-oh. She was in real trouble if he started reading her mind.
Summoning a reassuring smile, she jumped into the deep end. “The day after the town meeting the community center received news that their pre-school teacher was quitting. Without notice. They asked me if I’d be interested in the job.”
He stabbed a meatball, delivered the bite to his mouth, and chewed, assessing her all the while. Finally he pointed his fork at her. “You have a job.”
“Yes, and I explained to them that Mickey would be my first priority. They have no problem with me bringing him to the classes.”
Sitting back, he crossed his arms over his wide chest. “One child’s not enough for you?”
Okay this was good. He was resistant but willing to talk. She’d expected less; she’d expected an outright decree to stay home with the baby. Not that he was a chauvinist, but he was a control freak. And a bit of a traditionalist. Funny, she actually liked that about him.
“I love Mickey. You know that. And this isn’t babysitting; that’s separate. These would be actual pre-kindergarten classes, two sessions a day, three days a week. Monday, Wednesday and Friday, nine to eleven and one to three, except there’s no afternoon session on Fridays.”
“So it’s only fifteen hours a week?”
“That’s not bad, right? I told them I was looking for something full-time.” He scowled at the reminder. “And they said that wasn’t a problem, they’d take me for as long as they could have me.”
“It sounds like you really want to do this.”
“I do.” A true grin surfaced. Maybe he wouldn’t object after all. “They were desperate, so I agreed to do a test session. I taught the afternoon class today. It reminded me how much I really love teaching.”
“You miss it a lot?” He dug into his spaghetti again.
The question made her stop and think. Wow, surprisingly, the answer was she hadn’t missed teaching as much as she’d thought she would. She’d enjoyed getting back in the classroom, but taking care of Mickey, sharing time with Trace, brought her a satisfaction that more than equaled what she got from teaching. Unsettled by the revelation, she refocused her attention.
“Yes,” she admitted. “These kids were younger than I’m used to, so that presented some challenges, but they’re so eager to learn. They absorb knowledge like little sponges.”
“So you had fun?” He took a sip of milk.
“I