Sheriff Needs a Nanny by Teresa Carpenter Read Free Book Online

more than cereal.”
    “That would be nanny number two. I arrived home one night at dinnertime. There was puke-green food all over him, all over her, all over the dining room. He wascrying, she was screaming, and trying to force the spoon down his throat. I fired her on the spot.”
    Nikki chewed her bottom lip as she studied his stern expression. He’d obviously been appalled by the scene he’d walked in on. “That sounds very unpleasant.”
    “It was out of control.”
    Ah. The worst of all sins.
    “Yes, well. I don’t condone force-feeding, but you best prepare yourself. Feeding babies can be a chaotic experience. Most kids are naturally suspicious of any change in their diets. Some will easily try new things, but some need to have the food presented to them several times, and occasionally in different forms, before they take to it.”
    He frowned, as if it hurt to think about it, then he squared those truly impressive shoulders. “As I don’t plan on lowering myself to Carmichael’s level, I’m sure we’ll manage just fine.”
    Oh, how the mighty would fall.
    “A positive attitude is exactly the ticket,” she assured him, figuring some things just needed to be experienced. “A smile helps, too. You know what they say—never let them see you sweat.”
    Trace lifted one dark brow. “We’re talking about a baby here.”
    “Right.” She looked down at her own white blouse and slid back in her chair. “Just remember they sense fear.”
    Trace grunted a nonverbal reply. Getting a good dollop on the end of the spoon, he presented the bite to Mickey once again. The boy wanted no part of it. Heturned his head to the left, and when his father followed with the spoon he whipped his head to the right.
    “Ack!” With a squawk of frustration, Mickey pushed Trace’s hand away. A splatter of peaches flew through the air to land smack in the middle of Trace’s chest. He glumly surveyed his formerly crisp white T-shirt.
    “Good thing you took off your uniform shirt,” she pointed out, hoping to direct him to the positive view. She got a grunt for her efforts.
    His focus on the boy, Trace persevered, and finally got a good portion of the peaches into Mickey’s mouth.
    A tiny red tongue immediately pushed the food back out, then the baby blew a raspberry, spraying Trace with bright orange polka dots.
    Nikki bit back a grin as father and son faced off, with identical frowns of stubborn resolve.
    “You’re the bigger man here,” she reminded Trace, then giggled when they both turned those frowns her way. “You’re not going to give up, are you?” she challenged.
    “No.” He narrowed his eyes at her, but she saw reluctant humor in the green depths before he turned his attention back to Mickey. “Okay, kid, no more spitting. Peaches are good, so open wide.”
    Before digging in for another bite, Trace licked a smear of peaches from where it had landed on his right thumb.
    Mickey’s eyes brightened, then he mimicked his father by licking his fist where he’d wiped the fruit from his mouth.
    “Mmm, mmm.” Nikki hummed yummy sounds and smiled encouragingly.
    “Mmm,” the boy repeated, and swiped his tongue over his hand again.
    “Look.” She grabbed Trace’s arm and shook it in excitement. “Mickey’s copying you. He likes it. Give him another bite.”
    Trace glanced up from where her hand rested on his arm. The heated stare he turned on her made her catch her breath. “No touching.”
    She snatched her hand away. “Seriously? You’re in the middle of feeding your son!”
    His gaze rolled over her, sensual as a caress, and so intense her skin tingled as if from actual contact.
    He turned back to Mickey, feeding him another bite of fruit. “So? You’ve heard the statistics. The average man thinks about sex every so many seconds. If we aren’t actually having sex, we’re thinking about it.”
    Stunned nearly speechless, she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “You dawg.