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

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      Chapter Seven

      “THE Mayor’s office called.” Lydia popped her head inside the door to his office. “He’s asked the city council to meet at Sampson Hall twenty minutes before the community meeting.”

      Trace nodded, glanced at the clock on the wall, saw he had over an hour and went back to his report. He’d found it hard to concentrate today, his thoughts constantly traveling back to the scene a couple of nights ago. He’d come close to getting extremely unprofessional with his nanny.

      He so couldn’t go there.

      Mickey needed her. Beyond that she was a complication Trace couldn’t afford.

      The door to the station opened and in walked the subject of his thoughts. She pushed Mickey in his stroller, with a long, shallow basket perched on the hood over the boy’s head.

      Everything in Trace came to attention, his body reacting to the long stretch of her legs in skinny black jeans, the teasing pop of a pink tank at the hem and the cleavage under her fitted white shirt even as his mind raced with questions and concern at her appearance.

      What was she doing here?

      He rose and rounded his desk, watching her chat and laugh with Lydia. Her easy manner eliminated his worry, but not his disquiet.

      He shrugged at the tension in his shoulders. He didn’t want her here. This place belonged to him—well, and the citizens of Paradise Pines. The point was he needed someplace safe as a retreat from her intoxicating presence. But, no, interfering woman that she was, she had to invade his workspace.

      Oh, yeah, he was in serious trouble.

      As soon as he stepped out of his office he got hit with the savory scent of fried chicken, which reminded him of the potluck dinner at tonight’s community meeting. He had an order of fried chicken himself, to pick up from the diner. The scent grew stronger as he approached the front counter, but he was quickly distracted by the tail-end of Nikki’s introductions.

      “It’s so nice to put a face with a name. It’s always good to know when Trace is going to be late. Have you met Trace’s son, Mickey?”

      Lydia had her elbows on the high counter to help her see down to Mickey’s level. The little boy looked up at her with solemn eyes. He switched his gaze to Trace, frowned, and then twisted in his seat, obviously seeking out Nikki’s reassuring presence.

      She casually moved to the side of the stroller, giving him a clear view of her, and Mickey settled back into his seat. At the same time she moved the cloth-covered basket to the counter.

      “Hey,” she greeted Trace, her dimple flashing as she smiled.

      “Trace, your nanny just introduced me to your son. I never heard you had a child. All this time I’ve chattered away about my grandkids and you never mentioned you had a little boy.” Lydia’s teasing reprimand held more than a hint of hurt. “He’s so precious.”

      Damn, moments like this were exactly why he liked to keep his private life separate from his public service. Personal exchanges required too many complex twists of emotional discourse. So what if he suffered occasional bouts of loneliness? He preferred things simple.

      “Thanks. He’s only been with me a short time. His grandmother has been caring for him while I got settled.” Trace hated to explain himself, to expose his personal life, but it was that or subject himself and Mickey to the gossip mill for civic entertainment. That he couldn’t tolerate.

      “Well and fine. I bet you’ve missed him every day.” Lydia gave a sympathetic nod.

      “It’s been hard,” Trace acknowledged, “but we’re together now.” He focused his attention on his wayward nanny. “Ms. Rhodes, I wasn’t expecting you.”

      “They called from the diner to say your order was ready.” She lifted the red gingham napkin, revealing СКАЧАТЬ