Sheriff Needs a Nanny by Teresa Carpenter Read Free Book Online Page A

And yet I’m the one who has to follow all the rules?”
    The corner of his mouth twitched, but he came at her from a completely different direction.
    “And, Ms. Rhodes? His name is Carmichael.” He turned a reproachful stare on her, and she knew she’d slipped up more than once.
    She grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
    She bit her lip, then decided to come clean. Truthfully, deception never came easily to her. Too often her mouth worked before her brain, and honesty just made life simpler.
    “I just can’t call him Carmichael. I promise it’s notmeant to be disrespectful, or a control issue. Sure, Carmichael is a fine, distinguished name. But to me it’s also cold and hard. And with all the changes in his life Mickey needs warmth and love and acceptance more than anything else. I’d constantly feel like I was scolding him.”
    Nikki got a first-hand lesson in Trace’s interrogation technique as he sat back and ran a laser-sharp gaze over her. His intense regard seemed to see straight to her soul. He assessed, categorized and made conclusions—all without saying a word. Or changing expression. She was ready to spill her deepest, darkest secrets, and she had no idea what he was thinking at all.
    He finally broke the connection to focus on mopping up his son’s face.
    Free to breathe again, she anxiously waited for his response. She hoped they could settle the issue amicably between them, because she really couldn’t promise to call the baby Carmichael. In all honesty it probably wasn’t harmful to the boy at this stage, but he’d responded to Mickey when he hadn’t to the more formal name. That spoke volumes to her.
    “Leslie Trace.”
    “What?” Nikki stared at her employer’s stoic profile. Of everything he could have said, that made no sense to her. And when he turned to face her and flashed that dimple-popping grin she completely forgot what they were talking about.
    “The name my mom used when I was in trouble.” Humor and understanding had replaced the censure.Evidently she’d hit the right mark, tapping into the universal connection of childhood memories.
    “Leslie, huh? That had to hurt.”
    The humor disappeared. “Throw in extra for being a military brat. When my mom had gone, I told my dad I wanted to be Trace. He had no problem with that.”
    “Rough. How old were you when your mom died?”
    “I didn’t say she died. But she might as well have. I was ten when she left my dad and me.”
    “Extra rough. You and your dad must be close?”
    “He died before I married Donna. But we weren’t really close. Dad wasn’t what you’d call demonstrative.”
    “That must be where you got it.” As soon as the words escaped her mouth she knew she’d blown the moment.
    Raw emotion flashed in his eyes before he shut down all signs of feeling. He rose to his feet and pushed in his chair in two short, controlled motions.
    “Yeah, that’s where I get it from.” He glanced at Mickey before turning away. “I need to change.”
    “Trace.” She jumped to her feet, but he was already gone. Slowly sinking into the seat, she met Mickey’s confused frown. “Yeah, I know. I blew it.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    T RACE stared at the report on his desk as he waited on hold for the receptionist to make his appointment with the pediatrician. Finding out he didn’t know the slightest thing about his son’s health had struck Trace hard this morning. He’d depended on Fran to take care of Mickey and actually felt righteous about the decision. Fran and Owen had just lost their only daughter; they needed something—someone—to fill the void in their hearts and lives. Who better than their infant grandson?
    How easy to convince himself the couple had been better suited to handle the newborn than an overworked homicide cop, with uncertain hours and no experience with living, breathing kids.
    Sure, he’d made the effort to visit and provided monetary support. And, yeah, he’d made the move to Paradise Pines with the intent