Single Dad Needs Nanny: Sheriff Needs a Nanny

“I will.” Her phone rang. “Oh, my God, I have to go. I’m going to be an aunt!” She gave him a big hug, Mickey a kiss and then ran out the door.

Trace exchanged glances with Lydia. “So, do you think the roads are safe?” she asked.

“I’d have insisted on driving if I didn’t think so. She’ll be all right once she’s on the road.” Slightly bemused, he shook his head. “She thought I was being sweet?”

Lydia shrugged. “Most people don’t take their jobs as seriously as you do,” she explained.

“It’s a serious job.”

“Yes, it is. And you do it well. The whole town takes comfort in knowing you take the creed ‘To Protect and To Serve’ seriously.”

He nodded, gratified by the acknowledgment.

“But, Trace, just because your job is serious it doesn’t mean you always have to be. The girl thinks you were being sweet. Smile and enjoy the perks.”

“Perks, hmm?” Trace had never really thought along those lines. He got paid for his job. Perks were neither necessary nor sought after. But what the hell? He couldn’t get much done in his office with Mickey here, and it would save him from having to hunt up a babysitter.

“Daddy.” Mickey demanded Trace’s attention. He looked down to find little arms in the air. “Up.”

He hefted the boy into his arms and then stowed the stroller in his office, out of the way. “Radio me if you need me,” he told Lydia on his way out the door. “I’m going to take Mickey for a haircut.”

“Oh,” she lamented, “he’ll lose all those lovely curls.”

Trace shoved on his sunglasses. “Exactly.”

Ten minutes later he stood in the alien universe of What a Woman Wants, the new beauty salon in town. Arms crossed, he leaned against the wall in clear view of Mickey, who sat on a booster seat at one of the stations.

Mickey shrank back from all the women fawning over him, and Trace plainly read the plea for escape his son sent his way. He commiserated, but held tough.