Christmas with Daddy

And then, as if to signal her agreement, Mandy started howling again.

ONE HOUR LATER Mandy had been bathed, changed, fed and lulled to sleep, in that order. Bridget did most of the work, with Nick watching, feeling like he was on the verge of having a heart attack.

Now, seeing Mandy’s peaceful face, her body curled under the flannel covers, he could finally take a deep, long breath.

“Thank you, Bridget.”

She was on the other side of the crib, looking at him with an odd smile. “You’re welcome.”

“You made it all seem easy.”

“It’s not so difficult. You just need to stay calm.”

Calm. That was funny. “I’ve given that same advice to rookie cops in dangerous situations on the street. I can keep my head when a robbery is going down. But babies are different.”

“You’ll catch on,” Bridget said gently.

“You think?”

“You’ve definitely got potential. As long as you don’t panic, you’ll be able to handle Mandy just fine.”

He wished he had the same faith in himself that she did. “I’ll still need a sitter for when I’m at work.”

Bridget broke eye contact. “I should get going.”

“Oh, no. You’re not leaving until you agree to take on the job. You’ve just proved you’re the perfect person to take care of Mandy.”

The prospect of extra money hadn’t tempted her. What would motivate someone like her? “Please, Bridget? We’ve been neighbors for years and Mandy already likes you. I’d hate to have to leave her with a stranger.”

“Not fair, Nick.” She shook her head at him. “But I will do it. If you’re willing to make a few compromises.”

Years of negotiating with two older brothers had made him cautious. “Yeah?”

“We do this the ecofriendly way. That means organic, homemade baby food, no disposable bottle liners, and definitely no more disposable diapers.”

“You want me to use cloth diapers?”

She nodded.

“God, Bridget.” Cloth diapers would be stinky. And they’d have to be washed. “Okay. But you better be worth it.”

OH, I AM, Bridget wanted to say. I am definitely worth it.

But she wouldn’t be talking about babysitting. She’d be flirting. And where that urge had come from, she wasn’t sure. The situation was far from romantic. They were talking about baby food and diapers for heaven’s sake.

The problem was Nick. If only he had the good grace to look like a respectable father. But no, even in a domesticated scene like this one, he still exuded sex appeal.

Even as she was thinking about that, he stood up and stretched out his arms, inadvertently flexing all sorts of lovely muscles for her to admire.

She shouldn’t be looking. What she should be doing was leaving. “I’d better round up my dogs and get home.”

“I’ll call them in.” As soon as Nick slid open the patio door, all four of the snowy canines barreled inside. Bridget apologized, but Nick didn’t seem too worried about the floor getting wet.

As she clipped the dogs onto their leashes, Nick’s phone rang. After his first few responses, she was amazed by the change that came over him.

Her charming, light-hearted neighbor was suddenly serious and focused. He listened intently, then said, “You bet. Twenty minutes.”

After he hung up, he tunneled his fingers through his thick dark hair, then looked at her with a speculative gleam in his eye.

Oh, boy. “What is it?” she asked cautiously.

“I’m working on this case right now. A runaway teenager. She’s only fourteen.”

“That’s young,” she said.

“By all accounts she’s a good kid, from a good family. We’d like to find her as quickly as possible, for a lot of reasons, not the least because the streets aren’t exactly a safe place for someone like her.”

She nodded, agreeing, and understanding his urgency.

“We had a possible sighting at the mall in West Hartford. My partner’s not available, so I’d like to check it out.”

“Now?” Why was she asking? Of course he had to go now. “I can stay for a while, but I have to be home by quarter to five. Foster’s owner usually picks him up around then.”

Nick’s taut features relaxed with relief. “Thank you, Bridget. You’re amazing.”

Amazing. Nick Gray thought she was amazing. Of course she knew he meant this in a platonic, thanks-for-helping-me-out-in-a-pinch way, but still it was nice to hear.

He went to his bedroom and came out wearing a holster strapped to his chest. She did her best not to stare at this visible reminder of the dangers of his job. Noticing his keys on the floor by the front door, she picked them up and passed them to him.

Bridget was struck again by the domesticity of the situation. This must be what it would be like to be married to a cop. Only, if they were married, Nick would be kissing her goodbye right now…

Right. Dream on, Bridget. You’re the babysitter, not the girlfriend.

“Thanks, Bridget. Here’s one of my new business cards. Call my cell if you need me.”

He’d told her last month about his promotion. She glanced at the card before slipping it into her pocket. “Thanks, Detective.”

He gave her a boyish grin, full of self-conscious pride. “Yeah, I’m a bigwig now. You remember that.”

“I’m impressed. But I still need to be home by four forty-five.”

He nodded.

“You won’t be late?”

“I won’t be late.”

NICK WAS late. But it was only by five minutes. She’d give him another five, Bridget decided, before she panicked.