Single Dad Needs Nanny: Sheriff Needs a Nanny. Alison Roberts

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СКАЧАТЬ and the poking and prodding began.

      For a usually docile child, Mickey certainly made his displeasure known, twisting and turning so Nikki almost lost her grip on the boy.

      “Here, let me have him.” Trace stepped forward to trade places with her. He easily held the boy in place, but Mickey’s distress only increased. He lifted his little arms toward Trace. “Daddy.”

      Trace’s jaw clenched, but he stayed tough.

      Thankfully, the doctor soon ended the exam. “Okay, you can dress him.” He picked up his chart. “Do you know what inoculations he’s had?”

      Nikki stepped forward to dress Mickey.

      Trace reached in his pocket. ‘I went by my in-laws’ place this morning and found a few things. This is a list of the immunizations he’s had. I also called his pediatrician there, and asked for a copy of his file to be sent to you.”

      “Thanks. That’ll be helpful.” Dr. Wilcox looked over his glasses to scan the list Trace handed him. “And this looks current.” He sat back and folded his arms over a barrel-size chest. “You can calm your concerns. Mickey is in good shape. The muscles in his legs are underdeveloped, which is consistent with your theory that he’s been held a lot, but his bones are strong and there are no signs of malnutrition.”

      Nikki met Trace’s gaze, and in that moment felt a sense of connection in their relief and gratitude at the doctor’s news. Bouncing Mickey in her arms, she shot Trace a reassuring smile and let the tension drain away.

      “Continue feeding him solids, and encourage him to use his muscles. I’ll do the blood work and read through his records when they come in, then I’ll give you a call. Basically, I don’t expect I’ll need to see him before his eighteen-month check-up.”

      “Thanks, Dr. Wilcox, that’s good news.”

      “He’s a precious gift, Sheriff,” the doctor said seriously. “Treasure him accordingly.”

      Trace’s cool gaze ran over Mickey, once again strapped in his stroller. “Right.”

      Nikki watched the exchange with little satisfaction. She’d so hoped something good would finally come from a visit to the doctor’s office.

      After a week of make do trips to the corner mini-market, Nikki finally dragged Trace to the grocery store on Saturday afternoon.

      Pushing Mickey in one of the store carts, Nikki rolled over the threshold, and they both sighed at the rush of cold air.

      “That’s much better, isn’t it?” She tweaked the boy’s nose.

      “Neeki.” He grinned and made a grab for her nose, missing by a good eight inches.

      She leaned closer and wiggled her nose. “Not going to get me,” she challenged, and quickly pulled back when he tried again.

      Mickey giggled, but next to her Trace frowned. “You’re taunting a one-year-old?”

      She simply smiled. “Oh, we’ve played this game before. He’ll get me a couple of times before we’re through.”

      Trace grunted. He looked at the aisles surrounding them, the people wandering nearby. “Let’s get this done. I suggest we split up and meet at the register in twenty minutes.”

      Nikki sized him up. Cool and confident in jeans and a blue knit shirt, he clearly didn’t want to be here. But it was more than the chore that had him off-stride. The man defined the term loner. In the week she’d been at the house she hadn’t taken a single message for him. She knew he’d kept Mickey’s existence to himself. Other than the doctor’s appointment, this was his first public appearance with his son in the community.

      Well, he needed to suck it up—because, in the way of small towns everywhere, everyone would soon know his business.

      “You’re out of almost everything, so we won’t be out of here in twenty minutes. And you ducked out of breakfast yesterday, so you have Mickey-time to make up and this is the perfect opportunity. If we split up, he goes with you.”

      Trace shrugged. “Fine.”

      His easy compliance didn’t fool Nikki. He was never comfortable handling Mickey alone. No one would know it, watching the two together. Though always gentle, always patient, Trace’s need for control kept him from letting his feelings show, or he’d have already earned Mickey’s love.

      “Okay, then. He’s going to want things he can’t have, and touch everything within reach, so be firm and keep to the middle of the aisle.”

      “Really, Ms. Rhodes, I think I can handle a one-year-old in a store.”

      She lifted a skeptical brow. “That’s what you said about feeding him the first time.”

      He planted his hands on his hips and met her stare for stare. “My point exactly.”

      Nikki cocked her head and considered him. Peach-stained T-shirt aside, she allowed that he’d persevered until Mickey ate the whole bowl. Since then he’d mastered the art of feeding the child without wearing half the food.

      “You’re right.” But before Nikki stepped back and let him have the cart she needed to issue another warning. “There’s one more thing—”

      “Ms. Rhodes.” He cut her off. “I can take it from here.”

      “But you should know—”

      “We’ll be fine.” He took the list she held in her hand and tore it in two. “Meet you at the registers in twenty minutes.”

      Nikki shook her head and walked over to snag a new cart. Oh, well. She’d only meant to warn him that a man alone with a child in a grocery store was a total chick magnet. Actually, that was true anytime, anywhere, but in a grocery store it rose to the level of speed-dating. Or so a single dad had once told her.

      But then maybe that was what Trace needed. To meet a few eligible ladies. He’d been a widower for nearly fourteen months. And he had Mickey to think about.

      He was a smart man. He probably knew exactly what trolling the store with Mickey would bring.

      The two of them deserved some happiness after the past year of hardship. She turned down the juice aisle. So why did the thought of another woman in their lives sting Nikki in the heart?

      Five minutes later she saw Trace and Mickey start to roll past her row, but when Trace spied her he made a quick turn. He stopped next to her and without a word transferred the items in her cart to his, before stepping aside and waving her into the driver’s seat.

      She moved into position in front of Mickey, and assessed Trace out of the corner of her eye.

      He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. “That was just mean.”

      “What?” She tried not to laugh at his disgruntled expression.

      “Don’t play innocent. It doesn’t become you.”

      She grinned. “I did try to warn you.”

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