Deputy Daddy

by Carla Cassidy

  * * *

  Carolyn tossed and turned, unable to drift into sleep despite the fact that she was exhausted. Her mind whirled, refusing to allow her the oblivion of sleep.

  For the very first time since receiving the letter telling her that Beau Randolf sought custody of the twins, Carolyn had doubts concerning her own plan to take the boys from here.

  Going to the dinner and dance had been a mistake. She hadn't wanted to see Casey's Corners as a loving, giving community, and yet that's exactly what she had seen. She'd felt the warmth of the people—people who had accepted her completely, without reservations. There hadn't been a single person there who hadn't taken at least a moment to bend down and talk to the babies, tickle them under their chins, then place a kiss on their foreheads.

  With a sigh of irritation, she plumped her pillow and tried to find a body position that would evoke sleep. But her mind wouldn't shut down.

  Her mind filled with a vision of Iris. Bob's mother—the grandmother of the twins. Carolyn's heart ached as she thought of the woman who had lost her son and daughter-in-law; a woman who obviously loved the kids to distraction. It wasn't going to be easy taking the children away from her, whisking them to a city over a thousand miles away.

  I can buy her plane tickets, she thought, trying to still the guilty, nagging voice inside her. She can come to New York and visit whenever she wants. I could always pay for Iris to relocate to New York City. I'll make certain she gets to see the children as often as possible, she mentally promised.

  No matter how difficult, she had to make her decision based on what was best for Brent and Trent. And damn it, she was best for them. They needed her. She could give them the finest her money could buy.

  She sighed, remembering her own childhood. She'd had the finest money could buy. Materially she'd never wanted for anything—except the knowledge that she was loved, the certainty that she was special to her parents.

  I won't make the same mistakes with Trent and Brent, she vowed. Shoving any other disturbing thoughts away, she closed her eyes and waited for sleep.

  She didn't realize she'd fallen asleep until she woke up and looked at the luminous dial on the clock. Three in the morning. She sat up, wondering what had pulled her from her sleep. Then she heard it, the faint cry of one of the boys.

  Immediately she got out of bed and hurried into the boys' room, where Brent stood crying. "What's the matter, honey?" she asked, quickly picking him up and cuddling him close against her. She checked Trent, who still slept peacefully, apparently undisturbed by his twin's cry. She carried Brent into the kitchen.

  She turned on the small light above the stove, then grabbed a bottle from the refrigerator and popped it in the microwave. When the bottle was warm, she sat down in a chair at the table, the little boy still cuddled close against her. "Shh," she soothed him, stroking the feather down of his hair, smelling the sweet baby scent that clung to him. He drank from the bottle, making little sounds of contentment as she rocked him back and forth. He held the bottle with one hand and with the other he reached up to touch her face. His touch was whisper soft and she kissed the tiny hand as her heart filled with a love she'd never before experienced.

  Such a tiny little person, she thought, marveling at the perfection of the chubby hand. In the best of worlds, it would be nice if the twins could have both a mother and a father, a loving unit to raise them together. Her own parents had always seemed like distant strangers. They'd rarely come into the children's quarters of the house and Carolyn couldn't remember a time her mother had tucked her into bed or told her a story.

  She hummed softly, an old lullaby from her own childhood that her favorite nanny had often sung to her. Brent smiled around the nipple of the bottle, milk dribbling down his chin.

  "Looks like double duty."

  She looked up to see Beau standing in the doorway, a tear-stained Trent in his arms. "I didn't even hear him," she said in surprise.

  "Looks like you've got your hands full." He walked over to the refrigerator and took out a bottle. As it warmed in the microwave, Carolyn averted her gaze from him. He was clad only in a pair of red cotton boxers and she was suddenly aware of the brevity of her own attire.

  The microwave dinged and he sat down in the chair next to hers, Trent cradled in his arms. "Here you are, tiger," he said, as Trent latched onto the bottle and thrust it in his mouth. Beau smiled at Carolyn—a conspiratorial smile that instantly put her at ease. "I wonder when these two are teenagers if they will still be getting up in the middle of the night for a snack?"

  Carolyn smiled and once again rubbed the soft hair on Brent's head. "At least when they're that age we won't have to get up with them."

  "Who would have thought that there would be a time when I'd spend my days putting butts in jail, and my nights putting butts in diapers?"

  She laughed softly. "Did you always want to be in law enforcement?"

  "Always. I don't remember ever wanting to be anything else." He smiled and cuddled Trent closer against his broad chest. "My mother used to say that instead of being born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I was born with a gold badge on my chest."

  "You were close to your parents?"

  "Yeah." In the faint illumination of the kitchen his eyes glowed with painful memories. "My parents were terrific. I had a wonderful, happy childhood. I was eighteen years old when my father died in a freak tractor accident. My mother seemed to lose the will to live after that. A year later she passed away in her sleep from a massive heart attack. That's when I started spending a lot of time with Bob and Iris. They became my second family."

  "She seems like a wonderful lady," Carolyn said.

  "She's the best. She was nearly heart broken when Bob moved to New York for job training. Then when he married Mary and started working as head of security for a big firm, Iris feared she'd lose touch with him. We were both so pleased when he and Mary moved back here." He sighed and leaned down and kissed Trent's forehead. "At least they left a legacy behind."

  Never had Carolyn seen Beau look as appealing as he did at this moment, with a child cuddled against his bare chest and a soft light of love shining from his eyes.

  All of this would be so much easier if he'd truly been the Neanderthal she'd expected him to be. If he'd been a beer-guzzling, belly-scratching lowlife, she would have suffered no compunction about using any means necessary to take the boys away from him. But it was going to be difficult to take the boys away from this man.

  She hardened her heart against Beau, refusing to allow herself to be swayed from her goal, and her goal was to do what was best for the twins. And they needed her.

  For a few minutes the kitchen was silent except for the ticking of the clock on the wall above the stove and the sounds of the bottles whistling as the boys worked at draining them.

  She became aware of Beau's gaze on her. Where moments before he had been introspective, thoughtful, his gaze now lingered on her, bringing a flush to her cheeks as she felt the heat contained in his eyes. It wasn't the look of a man for his housekeeper. It was the look of a man for a woman, full of fire and hunger.

  She gripped Brent closer against her, as if he could shield her from the flood of warmth that suffused her, the unexpected desire that rose up inside her as if in answer to his. Never had she felt so feminine, so wanted, as when she looked into his eyes.

  Bedroom eyes. She was receiving the full force of his bedroom eyes, and it both frightened her and excited her in a decidedly uncomfortable way. She'd never felt these feelings before. She hadn't had much experience in the dating arena. There had never been time.

  Looking back down at the baby in her arms, she realized he'd fallen asleep. Take him back to his bed, then escape into your own room, a little voice instructed deep inside her head. Get away from Beau with his hot eyes and sexy smile before you do some thing stupid.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she suddenly recognized what she felt. She glowed. She could feel it on her face, sensed it through out her
being, saw it reflected in Beau's eyes. Sitting here in a semidark kitchen, holding a sleeping baby who held on to one of her thumbs, she shimmered, she shone…she glowed.

  She stood, achingly aware of her intimate attire. "I—uh—I'll just put him back in bed." She fled the room as if the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels. However, the hounds of hell wouldn't be capable of making her body tingle as if every nerve ending was exposed.

  It wasn't the babies that made a woman glow, it was the desire of her husband that created the ethereal radiance on a woman's face.

  As she placed Brent in his bed, alien thoughts jumbled her head. She'd always believed Mary had somehow sacrificed herself, marrying so young instead of forging a place for herself in the business world.

  Mary had been intelligent and energetic, and Carolyn hadn't been able to imagine how a man and a family could fulfill her. Now Carolyn found herself wondering if Mary hadn't been smart, after all.

  What was so great about Carolyn's life? Sure, she did a fine job as acting director of Baker Enterprises, but other than her two sisters and brother, she had nobody to share the triumphs, nobody to kiss away disappointments, nobody to share her dreams. She was successful and alone. She frowned and turned away from the crib, stifling a cry as she saw Beau standing in the doorway.

  "Shh." Beau gestured to the sleeping child in his arms. She watched for a moment while he placed Trent in the crib, then she turned and went out into the hallway. She hadn't quite made it to her bedroom when Beau stopped her, calling her name and standing directly in front of her.

  "I forgot to tell you about another one of my hidden talents." His voice was low, but vibrant with sup pressed energy, husky with emotion. He stepped closer to her, bringing with him a clean, masculine scent and a radiating heat.

  "And what's that?" Her mouth was dry and she felt as if she'd been plugged into an electrical outlet. She positively sizzled.

  "In sixth grade I was voted the best kisser in the whole school." Without warning, he drew her into his arms and claimed her lips with his. For a single, fleeting moment Carolyn held herself rigid, knowing that to give in was to lose her mind. But mindless ness had a certain appeal, especially when it was Beau's lips making her so.

  She moaned deep in her throat as his tongue slipped inside her mouth, stroking the hidden recesses with heated flicks. His hands on her back heated the cool silk of her gown as he pulled her closer against him, into the contours of his body.

  Heady sensations assaulted her—softness and strength, silk and bare chest. She felt herself spinning out of control and welcomed it.

  She groaned as his lips moved down the length of her neck, evoking fiery bursts of flame where they lingered. His breath was hot, his desire evident as he pulled her closer into the contours of his body. She ached with want, throbbed with need.

  He slipped one of the shoulder straps of her nightgown down, then covered her bared breast with the palm of his hand. The low moan that escaped his lips only heightened her own desire. With a sigh of complete surrender, she melted fully against him.

  Beau's senses reeled with the headiness of holding her close, caressing her silken skin, kissing her lips until they were swollen and pouty. He'd never wanted a woman as he wanted Carolyn. His body ached with his need to taste her, feel her, make love to her until they both fell apart, exhausted and fulfilled.

  He dipped his head to the bud of her breast, touching it lightly with the tip of his tongue. She emitted a throaty gasp that only fed his hunger to possess her.

  Desire battled with good sense. He wanted her but knew that making love to her would be the worst possible thing he could do. Things were unsettled between them. Hell, she wasn't even who she pre tended to be. And she wanted to take his boys away from him. It was this final thought that cooled his ardor.

  Gently, with a lover's touch, he reluctantly pulled the shoulder of her nightgown back in place. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with passion, and his control momentarily wavered. "Go to bed," he said softly as he stepped away from her.

  She tilted her head, as if disoriented. "Beau?" She reached out to him but he took another step back.

  "We don't want to make a mistake." He smiled softly and reached up to touch her cheek. He allowed the caress to linger only a moment, then dropped his hand. "Just go to bed, Carolyn. We can talk in the morning."

  She hesitated a moment, then nodded. Obediently she turned and went into her bedroom and closed the door behind her.

  Beau leaned against the wall and drew in a deep breath, allowing his passion to dissipate slowly. He closed his eyes, trying to erase from his mind the burning memory of the taste of her lips, the sensation of her lithe body pressed intimately against his own. Running a hand across his lower jaw, he pushed himself away from the wall and went into his own bedroom. He got into bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering what in the hell he was going to do about Carolyn Baker.

  Chapter 7

  He'd called her Carolyn.

  It was the first thought she had when she opened her eyes the next morning. Now, she paced back and forth in front of her bedroom window, reluctant to leave her room and face Beau.

  After their middle-of-the-night passion, the early-morning light seemed harsh, glaring, bringing with it a sanity that had been sadly lacking in the hallway the night before.

  He could have taken her last night. He could have lowered her to the carpet in the hall and made love to her and she wouldn't have uttered a single word of protest. Rather, she would have aided him, encouraged him. She'd wanted it every bit as much as he had wanted it.

  It shocked her, how easily he'd been able to delve beneath her defenses, make her feel things she'd never felt before. For the first time in her life, while in his arms, she'd felt a complete ness that had been previously lacking, a surge of life that had been exhilarating.

  And it shocked her that he apparently knew that she wasn't Carol Cook, nanny extraordinaire. What had given her away? How long had he known who she really was?

  It was Sunday, her official day off. She didn't have to leave her room if she didn't want to. If the boys cried, she didn't have to be responsible for them today. But she wanted to be responsible for them today and every day. In the space of a mere couple of days they had crawled into her heart.

  Much as Beau had. She frowned. Ridiculous. She wasn't about to fall in love with Beau Randolf. What she was experiencing was latent hormones kicking in, a physical reaction to a sexy, attractive man. It was nothing more than that.

  She eyed the bedroom door and nervously ran a hand through her hair. She knew Beau was awake; she'd heard the shower in the bathroom running a few minutes earlier. Sooner or later she was going to have to face him.

  "It might as well be sooner," she muttered. Taking a deep breath, she left her bedroom. She found Beau in the kitchen. He was clad in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and sat at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee.

  "Morning," he said as she entered. He gestured to the coffeepot. "Why don't you get a cup and join me?"

  She nodded, trying to ignore how sexy he looked. His hair was slightly damp and tousled, and the dark gray T-shirt matched perfectly the color of his eyes.

  Pouring a cup of coffee, she carried it to the table and sat across from him. She took a sip, her gaze not quite meeting his. "How long have you known?"

  "Since the first night." To his credit he didn't pretend not to under stand her question.

  "What gave me away?"

  He paused a moment and sipped from his mug. When he lowered it, an amused smile curved his lips. "This is a very small town, Carolyn, and mysterious deliveries from the local diner to this house were the talk of the town. How long did you think you could have dinner delivered and nobody would tell me?"

  She shrugged, a flush of heat warming her face. She'd have preferred he didn't know about that particular ingredient in her duplicity. "I suppose you'll want me to pack up and leave as soon as possible."

  "On the contra
ry."

  She looked up at him in surprise. He gave her another amused smile. "I believe you owe me two weeks' notice. It will take me at least that long to find an acceptable replacement."

  "You won't need one if I get custody of the kids."

  The words hung between them for a long, awkward moment. Carolyn took a drink of her coffee, uncomfortably aware of his narrowed gaze on her. "You know I don't intend to give up easily," he said.

  She nodded. "And I intend to use every weapon at my disposal to fight you."

  His dark eyes caressed her boldly. "Is that what you were doing last night?"

  Carolyn gasped, then com pressed her lips tightly closed. "That was a low blow," she finally managed to say, her face hot with the memory of those moments shared in the darkened hallway. "And besides—" she lifted her chin and eyed him just as boldly "—I might accuse you of the same tactics."

  He chuckled deeply. "Touché." His laughter died and he stared thoughtfully into his mug. "Carolyn, I want what's best for those kids—"

  "And you think I don't?" she interrupted heatedly.

  He sighed heavily. "No, I know your intentions are good. That's what makes it easy to forgive you for your little Carol Cook game, and that's what makes the whole thing so damned difficult." He sighed again. "I know you really believe you're doing what's best for the twins, but they don't need your money. I'm what they need. Casey's Corners is what they need."

  "I disagree," Carolyn returned.

  Beau held up his hands like a referee signaling timeout. "It's obvious this is a subject we won't agree on."

  "And it's point less for us to even discuss it. A judge will make the final decision," she continued.

  He raked a hand through his hair, a frown cutting deeply into his forehead. "It's Sunday, your day off. As soon as the kids wake up, I'm going to take them to visit Iris. You're free to do whatever you want for the day."

  Carolyn nodded, oddly deflated now that the cat was out of the bag and there was no glimmer of warmth or devilish desire in his eyes. Funny, for just a brief moment she felt a flare of jealousy—she was jealous of a woman named Carol Cook, a woman who, in reality, didn't exist.