Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Luke
Word had traveled fast.
So fast, Nadine had verbally assaulted him before he could take off his hat.
“Nicole quit? And Kylie Hood is back in town? You’re a regular National Enquirer disguised as a man, Luke,” she cracked as he froze in place, arm stuck in front of the coat rack, his mind still processing what she said.
Nadine was a town treasure, part of the station since before he’d been a gleam in his father’s eye, and she was somewhere in her seventies.
With zero plans to retire anytime soon.
Sharp as a tack, with wild orange hair she had done twice a week in a faithful bouffant down at her daughter’s salon, and a wiry, thin face that showed all she’d weathered, those chocolate brown eyes were the kicker.
They knew everything.
Of course she knew already. Of course.
“Why don't you tell me all about my life, Nadine? Seems like you know more than I do.”
“Hah! You have a go at running this police station without knowing what everyone's up to. I couldn't avoid it if I tried.”
One of the big town gossips, Nadine was anything but avoiding the scuttle.
“Got a big meeting with Chief Anderssen, Nadine. If you want to spill the tea, I don't have time.”
She snorted. “As if you'd ever gossip with me, Luke. You're tight as a drum.”
“Good to know.”
And then it began.
All day, he’d suffered at work.
First, the teasing, the questions, the prying into his personal life.
Second, the dressing down from the chief about a case that had gone sideways.
But then the unexpected had happened: Chief of Police Dawson Anderssen had told Luke he was retiring in two years.
And he wanted Luke to be the next police chief.
“Sir,” he’d demurred, secretly pleased but also half sick to his stomach from overwhelm. “I’m honored. But I’m not sure I’m the right candidate.”
“If I pick you, you are.”
Dawson always had a way of being blunt.
And certain.
A towering giant of a man, he was half as wide as he was tall, imposing and solid. Anyone trying to cross him would think twice.
Luke didn’t have that kind of physical presence, though he was tall and strong enough. At just a titch over six feet and two hundred pounds of muscle and bone, he did just fine in the power department.
But Dawson had a wisdom and gravitas Luke admired.
Before Amber died, Luke thought he had it in him, too.
Now, though…
The stone-cold certainty about making decisions was there. The intuitive ability to take control or restore order was absolutely present. But leading the town’s law enforcement, given how his life had cracked apart out of the blue–that was daunting.
“You’re young. I’ll give you that. But you’ve seen your share of hardship, Luke. And you’ve been damn good at your job since the day you were hired, nine years ago. Someone has to succeed me. You’re better than anyone else.”
The other deputies were going to turn green when they heard about this.
He was about to have a lot of frenemies.
“I need some time, Dawson.”
“Of course. You got a lot on your plate with Harriet. You also have time. Two more years, Luke. She’ll be well into second grade and what happened to Amber years more behind you.”
That last sentence damn near did him in.
He knew what his boss meant.
How it felt was a whole different matter.
Before he was required to speak, Nadine walked in and interrupted them, complaining about some county environmental code they needed to enforce.
Stunned, but with dignity intact and pride throttling nice and high, Luke had retreated.
And spent the day doing grunt work.
Now, he hurried up his own walkway, punching in the code to unlock the deadbolt and pleased to find Kylie had engaged it.
Nicole “forgot” all the time, a bad habit Luke couldn’t stand. Yes, they lived in the middle of nowhere, but danger was random.
He knew that all too well.
He opened the door...
And entered into paradise.
The tantalizing odor of garlic, tomato, oregano, and cumin assaulted his nose, making his stomach growl. Every square inch of his floor not covered by furniture was… visible.
He could see the hardwood floor and carpet.
The throw pillows on the couches were in the right place, plumped and arranged by color. Quilts were folded neatly over the back of the couch and recliner chair. The dining table was set.
With actual placemats.
The lazy Susan in the middle of it was wiped down, with salt, pepper, a napkin holder with real napkins, and the vinegar and oil he preferred on salad in the cruets.
He blinked.
Wrong house?
Nope. It was his.
Jester rested in his dog bed, tail thumping twice as Luke walked in the door, eyes meeting his with a wide awe that seemed to say, Can you believe this? We hit the jackpot.
Then the dog jumped up, lunged at Luke, and nearly licked him to death.
“Hi, Daddy!” Tackled by fifty pounds of solid progeny that made Jester back off, he found his heart lifted by the sight of a happy kid, an engaged Kylie, and–this.
A happy home.
One deep inhale and whatever was in the crockpot had him half crazed. His mom and Colleen cooked for them when they could. He could do the basics, and rode a mean grill in the summer, but this was bliss.
Pure bliss.
For once, he didn’t have to come home, take one look around, and feel guilty.
That was worth more than anyone could understand.
He turned to Kylie, gratitude on the tip of his tongue, but the thank you he expected to say wasn't what came out of his mouth.
Instead, be blurted out:
“You’re hired.”
“What?”
“Hired. You want a job? I follow all employment laws. You’ll get a salary, health insurance, paid time off, and I pay all the Social Security taxes.”
“Hired for what?”
“To be Harriet’s nanny.”
Chin dropping, eyebrows raised, mouth open in shock, Kylie gaped at him.
“Nanny?” she gasped.
Then she began laughing hysterically.
Harriet gave them quizzical looks and he knew he needed to manage this situation, fast. Emotion had gotten the better of him, but he wasn’t wrong.
She was perfect. Exactly what he and Harriet needed.
And he was desperate.
Desperate for more of this.
“Let me back up. I guess you already have a job?” No use in hiding his disappointment, which he let leach into his voice.
“Actually, no. Just got fired.”
“Fired?”
“My ex’s family owned the resort.”
“Resort?”
She sighed. Loudly. “I used to work for Nordicbeth Resorts as children’s programming director.”
“Nordicbeth Resorts?”
“Yes.”
“Who was your ex? Tim?”
Tim was Perry’s brother.
“No. Perry.”
Luke couldn’t help himself, making a derogatory noise. “That priggish little… that pompous ass? Really? Him?”
“Hey, now–”
“I can see why you dumped him. You deserve way better than that. Glad you got away from him.”
Kylie didn’t say a word. Discomfort covered her expression, though.
“He got you fired? Did you–were you bad at your job?”
“No! I was great! I’m working on lining up interviews for new jobs.”
“Perfect! You have a new job now. You’re hired.”
“Luke.”
“Mmm?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” He named a figure. She didn’t seem impressed. He couldn’t afford more and, for this town, he paid well.
Plus, she seemed to get along really well with Harriet. Job enjoyment had to count for something.
“I’m only here for three more months, until my lease is up. Perry says he’ll pay his half of the rent until then. And my sister leaves town tomorrow.”
“Then you’re all alone?” he asked, suddenly touched by her isolation. If Luke understood anything, it was the deep pain of loneliness.
“I’m fine.”
“You’d be finer spending your days with the best little kid ever.”
She was softening, but she was also a mature adult who knew this wasn’t as simple as he was making it out to be.
“You need a job. I need a nanny. Harriet needs a stable grownup she can rely on.”
“Luke, I–”
“Please.” The word came out with more intensity than he intended, his heart caught up in an imagined future where everything was just a little bit easier. Where he didn’t have to worry every minute. Where life was orderly, organized, calm.
Where he could breathe.
And where those sweet Kylie eyes looked at him five days a week, above that gorgeous smile.
“Three months,” she said slowly. “I’m here for three months.”
“I’ll take it. A trial period.”
“I can promise you that, but nothing more. I’m applying for jobs in New York and if the right one comes along early…” Gaze drifting to Harriet, the crease between her eyes, at the bridge of her nose, tightened with concern. Kylie was a deeply moral person, he knew.
She didn’t want to hurt Harriet.
And that, more than anything, was exactly why he wanted to hire her.
Well–among other reasons.
“Three months it is, then,” he agreed, holding out his hand for a shake, ignoring the New York part. He’d process that later.
As her palm slid against his, the pad of his thumb caressed the soft skin on the back of her hand.
She closed her eyes and sighed for a brief second.
Did she feel it, too?
“But,” she said, withdrawing her hand, “I have conditions.”
“Name them.”
“Your salary and benefits are fine. I want complete freedom to do fun stuff with Harriet.”
“Done.” He held up one finger. “Let me print out the contract I had with Nicole. You can read through it and we can sign it right now.”
Harriet chose that exact moment to join the discussion, positioning herself between the two of them as he went to the desk in his bedroom. “Kylie’s my new nanny?”
“I am!”
“YAY! Now I can have fairy muffins every day!”
“We can add that in the contract,” he heard Kylie shout from down the hall as he clicked through his computer files, finding the old contract Nicole signed. A few changes of dates and names and he printed it.
Three pages.
Long enough to be professional, short enough for Kylie to read on the spot.
When he brought the document back to her, she began scanning quickly, nodding as he stood, one hand on his hip, one scratching the top of Jester’s head, his nose filled with the delightful scents of her cooking.
Dinner was already done. He could feed Harriet and have some actual time for himself tonight.
Time… remember free time? He smiled at the thought.
On page three, Kylie looked up, ear tips turning red.
“Something wrong?”
“Number 14, Part A.”
“What’s that?”
“No fraternization policy.”
Oh, man. He’d forgotten about that. In an abundance of caution, he’d had his lawyer add a section making it clear, in this legal employment contract, that he and his nanny could not have a romantic relationship.
Ever.
His lawyer called it the Don’t Bang Your Nanny clause.
As a law enforcement officer, he wanted to take no chances.
And that meant destroying any chance he had with Kylie now.
Surprise at her reaction turned to amusement inside him, and then desire, a flicker turning into a flame. Was she questioning it because she was attracted to him?
The feeling was mutual.
“Is that a problem?” he asked, taking a step closer, his voice going low and soft. Kylie’s lashes fluttered as her eyes turned up at him, heat building between them.
“Of course not,” she insisted, taking a step back, though the way her throat trembled when she swallowed said otherwise. “A smart, clear directive. We know where things stand.”
“We do.”
“You have a pen?”
Pulling one from his front shirt pocket–the very same pen he’d used to write eleven speeding tickets today as Black Friday shoppers spent more time celebrating their scores and less minding their speedometers–he handed it to her with a flourish, their fingers brushing against each other, electricity flying fast and free.
She signed. She smiled.
He cheered inside.
Because for the next three months, Kylie Hood would be in his home five days a week, cooking, cleaning, and nurturing Harriet, making his life so much easier.
But Number 14, Part A of that contract? And the way she looked at him with those doe eyes?
That made everything harder.
Everything.
Harder.