Single Dad
Needs Nanny
Sheriff Needs
A Nanny
Teresa Carpenter
Nurse, Nanny…
Bride!
Alison Roberts
Romancing
the Nanny
Cindy Kirk
TERESA CARPENTER believes in the power of unconditional love, and that there’s no better place to find it than between the pages of a romance novel. Reading is a passion for Teresa…a passion that led to a calling. She began writing more than twenty years ago, and marks the sale of her first book as one of her happiest memories. Teresa gives back to her craft by volunteering her time to Romance Writers of America on a local and national level. A fifth generation Californian, she lives in San Diego, within miles of her extensive family, and knows that with their help she can accomplish anything. She takes particular joy and pride in her nieces and nephews, who are all bright, fit, shining stars of the future. If she’s not at a family event you’ll usually find her at home…reading, writing, or playing with her adopted Chihuahua, Jefe.
For Mom, who has always believed in me.
And for Yvonne, JD, Denise and all the Culversons
for their loving care of Mom this last year.
You guys are the best.
And for Rodney and Brandon, daddies extraordinaire!
Table of Contents
Chapter One
“HERE goes everything.” Nicole Rhodes arrived at the front door of the sprawling ranch-style house. She glanced down at her navy ruffled vest, white tank and tailored khaki Capris. Together with her white sandals she felt she’d hit the right mark of cool and professional.
Two adjectives she rarely aspired to. She preferred to experience life.
Still, for today, going on her first job interview in five years, she needed all the confidence she could muster. Damn state budget cuts. She was one of a thousand teachers looking for alternative employment.
Pasting a smile on her face, she knocked on the door.
She needed a job and a place to stay ASAP. This nanny position offered both, with the added bonus of allowing her to stay close to her very pregnant sister, Amanda.
The door in front of her opened to frame a half-naked man. Oh, mama.
Her internal temperature spiked to match the hundred-degree heat as she admired six-pack abs, a strong chest dusted with dark hair attached to a corded neck, and a head buried in a gray cotton T-shirt.
“Hey, Russ.” A deep voice came from within the depths of bunched-up material. “Thanks for coming over so quickly. I’ve been picking up before the nanny gets here. I’ve only got ten minutes to grab a quick shower.”
Before she could respond, the shirt finished its journey, leaving mussed mink-brown hair in its wake. A myriad of emotions flowed over Sheriff Trace Oliver’s sharp-edged features. Surprise, annoyance and finally resignation flashed through eyes the color of lush green grass.
“I suppose it’s too much to hope you’re Russ’s older sister, come to help out in a crunch?”
She shook her head, felt the heavy weight of the long brunette mane hanging down her back and vaguely wished she’d pulled it up and off her neck. Smiling, and doing her best to ignore all the toned, tanned skin on display, she held out a hand.
“Nikki Rhodes, potential nanny,” she introduced herself.
“You’re early.” The words were curt as he gripped her hand and let his intense gaze roam over her. Ever the optimist, she decided to take his comment as an observation rather than an admonishment.
“Yes. It’s supposed to be an admirable trait.”
In sheer self-preservation she broke away from his forceful gaze. Instead her glance fell to where her hand lay, cradled in his warm, strong grasp.
“Not always.” He responded to her comment with a grimace, and motioned to his shorts and bare chest.
Oh, man. And she’d been trying so hard not to stare. She didn’t want to think of her charge’s father in a physical way. It just made for unwanted complications. She cleared her throat.
“I’ll remember that for the future.” She nodded her head toward her silver Camry at the curb. “Shall I wait in the car while you shower?”
“What? No.” He stepped back, drawing her inside. “Please come in.” He frowned at their clasped hands, as if surprised to find her hand still in his. Abruptly, he released her. “I’ll adjust.”
Nikki followed him inside; she took in the living room, small dining-room-kitchen combo, and wondered what he could possibly have had to pick up in anticipation of her visit. The rooms were buffed to a high gloss and lacked any form of clutter. The furniture, what there was of it, was all large and modern, all straight lines and muted blues and grays. Nothing in the room suggested a baby lived there. In fact, it had a military feel to it.
One glance around the everything-in-its-place