Sheriff Needs a Nanny Read Free

between slim dark brows.
    “Sadly, a lot of parents want just such an arrangement. It’s almost as if they prefer to be visitors in their children’s lives rather than participants.” Her tone made it clear what she thought of those misguided parents.
    Must be nice to live in her merry little world. He knew the truth. “I’m in law enforcement, Ms. Rhodes. I can tell you parents often cause less damage to a kid just by virtue of their absence.”
    “You’re right, of course. But that’s not what I meant.”
    “I know what you meant. I’ve been a visitor in my son’s life for more than a year. But that’s over. I’m responsible for him now. I’ll decide what’s best for him.”
    And chatting up a kindergartener teacher, no matter how blunt and vivacious, wasn’t going to get the job done.
    Was she the nanny for him?
    On the surface she was too young, too overqualified, too inexperienced. It didn’t take a master’s degree to change a diaper, but it took someone who’d beenaround babies to know the difference between a fever due to teething or an illness. Something he’d learned just this week.
    On the other hand it was a job, and the budget cuts did have a lot of teachers looking for employment.
    “Ms. Rhodes—”
    “Please,” she interjected, “call me Nikki.”
    “Ms. Rhodes.” It was better that way. Better to keep everything professional. “When can you start?”

CHAPTER TWO
    “W HEN can you start?”
    As soon as Trace said the words the cell phone on the coffee table rang and a cry echoed from down the hall. He stopped and reached for the phone.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “I have to get this. Do you mind checking on the baby for me?”
    “Right.” Nikki surged to her feet and tugged on the short hem of her vest. She had the job! So she wasn’t keen to be working for a control fiend—she’d get to stay close to Amanda, and that was what mattered. Nikki could hardly wait to tell her sister. “Which room?”
    He nodded toward the hall. “Last door on the right.”
    Turned out Nikki needed the directions, because the crying had stopped. She found that odd. In her experience babies wanting attention usually got louder, not quieter.
    She pushed open the half-closed door and peered inside. The room held only a crib and a dressing table/dresser set made of fine oak. The walls werewhite, the sheets and blankets a dark navy. There were no toys in sight.
    A brown-haired, solemn-eyed baby sat quietly in the crib.
    Nikki’s heart wrenched. She’d never seen such a sad child in her life. Poor baby. He must really be missing his grandmother.
    “Hello, Carmichael,” she greeted him softly as she approached the crib. “I’m Nikki.”
    She rested her forearms on the wooden railing and smiled, prepared to chat for a moment before plucking him from his bed.
    He watched her with those big sad eyes—green, like his father’s—but made no move toward or away from her.
    “Carmichael is a lot of name to live up to. Someday I’m sure you’ll rate every syllable.” Letting him get used to her, she reached out and wiggled his little nose. “In the meantime, you look more like a Mickey to me.”
    The corners of his mouth turned up in a tiny smile.
    Pleased by his reaction, she asked, “You like that? You like the name Mickey? I like it, too.” She gave his nose another wiggle. “Are you a fan of the mouse? He’d certainly bring a little color to the room, wouldn’t he?”
    The boy rolled over and crawled to the side of the crib, using the rails to climb up. Once he stood opposite her, he turned shy again, eying her warily. She kept her smile in place, showing him he had nothing to fear.
    Her patience was rewarded when he suddenly poked her in the nose.
    “Uh-oh,” she said in mock alarm. “You got my nose.”
    He grinned and poked her again.
    “Oh, look at you—you got me again. I’m going to get you back.” She wiggled his nose one more time.
    And he giggled.
    The happy sound sent a