just go offer my commiserations.”
“Take Pebbles home, Mrs. Day.” Trace issued the warning in his official voice. “I wouldn’t want to have to run you in because Pebbles and Mr. Wilson got into an altercation.”
The woman waved away his advice. “You are so funny.”
He watched Mrs. Day trot on to her next victim, then turned to Nikki with a lifted brow. “She thinks I’m joking.”
Nope, Mrs. Day didn’t know him well at all. Trace didn’t joke about the law or keeping order.
“Lighten up, Sheriff,” Nikki said. “You don’t always have to chase the rules.”
Chapter Six
TRACE tossed his keys on the counter and glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall: twelve-thirty in the morning. He headed straight through the house to Nikki’s rooms to collect Mickey.
The whole town was buzzing about his business. Asking after his son—or, worse, his daughter. Wanting to know about his nanny service. Offering to set him up with their daughter, sister, niece and, in one unforgettable case, an ex-wife.
He just wanted it to end. Had never wanted it to start. But that had been unrealistic, and the hurt expression on Nikki’s face when he’d failed to introduce her to Mrs. Day still haunted him.
He owed her an apology. It wasn’t her fault his privacy was being torn to shreds. She deserved better from him.
He knocked once, and then again. After a few minutes Nikki opened the door. Hair mussed, dressed in shorts and tank top, displaying lots of silky soft skin. There’d been a couple of nights when he’d had to pick Mickey up from here, but this was the latest he’d been. He’d obviously woken her.
“Hey,” she said around a yawn, and stepped back. “You’re late.”
“Yeah. Sorry to ruin your day off.”
“Couldn’t be helped,” she said easily. “Mickey was a big hit at my sister’s baby birthing class.”
He preferred not to imagine that scene. “I’ll bet.”
Backlit by the dim room, she looked sleepy, tousled and oh-so-soft. With a fierceness he’d never known, he longed to sweep her up, carry her to the couch and surround himself in her softness. He wanted nothing more than to purge the horrors of the night in the tenderness of her arms.
“Come in.” She stepped back, and he moved past her to get Mickey from the playpen beside the couch. After hours of working at an accident, the sweet scent of her skin nearly drove him to his knees.
“The doctor called today. I gave him your cell number.”
“Yeah, I talked to him.”
“What did he have to say?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Trace shook his head. It was too dangerous for him to be here. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
He lifted the slight weight of his son into his arms. Mickey opened his eyes, focused on Trace, smiled and snuggled into his shoulder and went back to sleep.
The trust of the gesture weighed heavy on a night when he’d witnessed senseless death. How was he supposed to keep his child safe in a world out of control?
“Are you okay?” Nikki ran a light hand from the back of his elbow down his forearm to his wrist. Just as he’d thought, her gentle caress eased some of his despair.
To shatter the illusion he moved away, starting toward the door. “No touching.” He tried for lightness and failed miserably.
The concern in Nikki’s eyes heightened. She smiled. “This is my place. The rules don’t apply here.”
“The rules always apply.” No rules meant anything went, and he’d have no reason not to taste the lush line of her lips. Soon he’d be looking for a new nanny.
She shook her head. “Not always. Did you eat? Why don’t I put on some clothes and come heat up some food for you, and you can tell me what the doctor said?”
“I’m fine.” Food sounded good, but more trouble than he wanted to go to this late. “I’m just going to shower and go to bed. Good night.” He pulled the door closed and waited until he heard the bolt.
Ten minutes later he had Mickey tucked into bed, and was stepping from the shower when he heard a knock on the back door. It could only be Nikki. He considered ignoring it. Hadn’t he faced enough temptation tonight? But he owed her for his previous rudeness.
Sighing, he pulled on a T-shirt and a pair of navy sweatpants and went to answer the summons. He opened the door to a steaming plate of food. Savory aromas floated to him on the night air, making his stomach growl.
Nikki cocked her head and grinned. “It goes against my civic duty to let the Sheriff go to bed hungry.”
She’d donned low-riding gray sweatpants, and her pink tank top stopped just above her waist, leaving a band of creamy skin visible. The sight of her made him hungry for more than food.
“Is that macaroni and cheese?”
“It’s homemade mac and cheese. Plus smoked sausage and sliced tomatoes.”
“Okay, you can come in.” He took the plate and left her to follow him. “How did you manage homemade macaroni and cheese with only a coffeemaker and a microwave?”
“It’s leftovers from dinner with my sister. It’s my mom’s recipe. I make it better.”
“This is pretty good.” He stabbed a piece of sausage. “You’ll have to send my compliments to your sister. It must have been rough on the two of you to lose them both together.”
“Yeah.” She sat down across from him and laid her hands flat on the table. “But they would have wanted it that way. My mother was a good military wife, she went wherever Dad was stationed. They loved each other very much—were the center of each other’s lives. My sister and I completed the circle, but they always came first for each other.”
“It must be nice to have had such a bedrock foundation.”
“There were trade-offs. Mom coped with all the travel by micromanaging what she did have control of—the family.”
She reached out, caught herself, and her fingertips stopped just shy of his. How he resented that quarter-inch of space.
“It was bad tonight?” She zeroed in on what was bothering him.
“Two dead at the scene. A man fell asleep at the wheel. Killed himself and his adult daughter. The wife survived, but she’ll just wish she were dead.”
“Oh, Trace. I’m so sorry. It must be difficult to work accident scenes after losing your wife to a drunk driver.”
“I had to leave Homicide. I couldn’t make death my business anymore, or deal with it every day. This is better. There’s
