Sheriff Needs a Nanny Read Online Free Page A

line was he needed Ms. Rhodes.
    She’d made Carmichael smile—giggle, even. For that alone she was worth any discomfort he felt. What kind of father would he be if he put his personal well-being above the very real needs of his son?
    There’d have to be ground rules.
    She was too much of a free spirit, and, where he appreciated the blunt honesty she’d displayed, her unpredictability would drive him nuts. His uncharacteristic openness with her spoke of how easily she’d twisted him up.
    Love was not an automatic response. He didn’t get all gooey-eyed or mushy inside when he looked at his son. He did feel a sense of duty. He’d made the decision to have a child and he’d do his best by him. Even if his best didn’t include love. He’d survived without it. So would his son.

CHAPTER THREE
    “Y OU ’ RE home.” The sleep husky voice came from the depths of the couch.
    He looked down into honey-brown eyes, felt the warmth rising and turned away.
    “Yeah, thanks for staying.” Glancing at his empty plate, he saw he’d eaten every bite. He set the plate on the island countertop. “Let me take Carmichael to bed.”
    “Poor little guy missed you tonight.” Nikki shifted around until she half sat, with Carmichael draped over her lap. “He wouldn’t go to sleep in his crib. I think having a stranger here at bedtime threw him off.”
    “It wasn’t you,” Trace assured her grimly as he lifted his tiny son into his arms, careful not to wake him. “He hasn’t slept well since he came here. Hang on, I’ll be back in a minute.”
    He carried his light burden to the nursery and laid the boy down gently. He placed a toy giraffe next to the baby and tucked them both in with a soft navy blanket. Carmichael stirred. Trace stood over him until he settled, then returned to the living room.
    Trace thanked God he had the garage converted out back. At least he and Ms. Rhodes wouldn’t have to share the house. He’d purposely looked for a property with a detached extra room or granny flat. The division of space served a couple of purposes. One, it preserved his reputation and that of any lady he hired, and two, it defined the barrier between employer and employee and established boundaries for personal space.
    Nikki was in the kitchen, cleaning his dinner dishes. Quite the domestic picture.
    “Leave them,” he told her. “I’ll get to them later.”
    She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. “They’re already done.” She opened the cupboard to the left of the sink and placed the plate inside, then turned to face him as she dried her hands with a dishcloth. “It was no trouble.”
    “We have to talk.”
    She nodded, folded the cloth over the edge of the sink and followed him to the living room. “It’s pretty late. It must have been bad tonight.”
    “Bad enough.” He grimly dismissed the accident that had claimed two lives. A lawman couldn’t afford to make it personal. “That’s not what we need to talk about.”
    “Of course.” She leaned forward. “Carmichael is such a sweet little boy, but so sad. He must miss his grandparents a lot.”
    “He asks after them, yes. They’ve been the constant in his life. He has to get past that.”
    “And he will, as you replace them in his affections.”
    He frowned, unnerved at being anyone’s emotional stable. But this was his son, so he put steel in his backbone and strengthened his resolve.
    “Bonding will take a bit of time,” she continued, right through his moment of panic. “Especially with a schedule as erratic as yours.”
    That stung. “I’m doing the best I can.”
    “Are you?” She flushed and held up a placating hand. “I’m sorry. I understand yours isn’t a nine-to-five job, but it’ll really help if you can find some time during the day to spend together. That’s usually easiest during a meal, or at bath or bedtime.”
    “I know the importance of an established schedule.” How exactly had he become the one on the