A Baby for the Officer: Boys of Rockford #1

by Henley Maverick

  When I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I grimaced. I would need to do something about the hair. Currently, it was a wayward mess that seemed to take on a life of its own. The curls were in complete disarray. I carefully combed through my hair, making sure to even out all the ends until it was somewhat presentable.

  Finally, I pulled it up into an updo. My mother always said that an elegant chignon could do wonders for your looks. It could make anybody look elegant, sophisticated and just the appropriate amount of sexy.

  I had always snickered at the mere concept, but now that I was looking in the bathroom mirror, I could see where the idea came from. It did make me look older, which was exactly what I needed.

  After that miserable excuse of an interview, I needed to up my game, so I could get this job. The updo moved me toward the suave and smooth look that seemed to take women ages to perfect. Most importantly, I looked more like a responsible adult.

  Someone who could be trusted to handle a baby.

  Quickly, I added some lip gloss, grabbed my purse and headed out the door. On the way to his house, I kept wondering if this was a mistake.

  After all, I was attracted to him. That in and of itself wasn’t the be all and end all. Unfortunately, it did present a complication. He was my boss.

  If I were smart, I’d turn the car around and drive the other way. Better than to put myself in this position. But before I could do that, I realized I was already parking the car in front of his house. My hands began to sweat as I walked to the front door, my heart hammering in my chest.

  I softly rapped on the door as I tugged my skirt down just a bit. Clay Baker answered the door in a pair of jeans and a loose flannel shirt. His salt and pepper hair looked neatly combed, aside from a few errant strands.

  He looked different out of uniform. In regular clothes, he looked softer but more distinguished looking. The way he held himself practically commanded respect, and I could see the outline of his body in spite of his oversized shirt.

  My face flushed at the thoughts that were going through my mind, and I ducked my head to hide it, though I was sure he got a glimpse of it.

  Get a grip, Lyla, I chided myself as I tried to control my rampaging hormones. It’s not like I’d never been around a handsome looking guy before.

  Sure, never someone like this, but still.

  I can control myself.

  I peeked up at him and noticed that he was looking at me with barely concealed surprise. When he noticed me looking, he gave me an easy smile and coughed. “Hi.”

  I swallowed.

  How had I managed to screw up again? In an attempt to look professional, I’d ended up going way overboard. This was made glaringly obvious by the contrast with what Clay Baker was wearing.

  What the hell was I thinking?

  He was hiring me to be a nanny, not his secretary. I should’ve stuck to my usual attire. In any case, it was too late to remedy that now. I would just have to make the most of it.

  I straightened my back and gave him a professional smile. “Hi.”

  He held the door open and gestured for me to go in. “Come on in.”

  5

  Clay

  When I opened my front door, the last thing I expected was to see Lyla dressed up like that. Sure, I understood that she was trying to make a good impression given how wracked with guilt she was over how she insulted my brother, but I didn’t expect her to go quite that far.

  My mouth immediately went dry as I took in the sight of that short skirt that showed off her legs, the button-down blouse that clung to her skin, and what can only be described as the sexiest pair of heels I’d ever seen.

  And I was a guy.

  I didn’t pay attention to heels.

  Yet, here I was noticing them now.

  I smiled to put her at ease when she caught me staring at her, but I had to clench my hands into fists when she blushed.

  Damn, who was this woman?

  And what was she doing to me?

  Why was my body reacting to her like I was some lovesick puppy who’d never touched a woman?

  I gestured for her to enter, and when she did, I caught a whiff of her perfume as she went by, and my insides did this funny little thing they hadn’t done since high school.

  Jesus.

  I needed to get a grip.

  I lifted my chin up as I led her into the living room and invited her to sit. As soon as she crossed one leg over the other, her skirt inched up on her knees, and I had to look away before my attraction gave me away again.

  “As you can see, it’s not a large house. There are three bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. I have a cleaning lady who comes once a week, but I generally keep things tidy myself,” I began as I gestured around the house. “Emma is just shy of six-months, but she’s a very easy baby.”

  “Oh?” Lyla looked relieved as she listened attentively.

  “Yes, she goes to sleep around 8 and doesn’t stir during the night. I make baby formula for her every morning, and she’s fed three times a day. She usually changes around 3 to 4 times a day,” I continued. “Do you want me to write all of this down for you?”

  “I can write it myself,” she offered as she rummaged around for a pen and a notebook. Her pen scribbled furiously as she tucked her hair behind her ear. She began to chew on her bottom lip in concentration, and I found myself strangely fascinated by the gesture.

  It was…endearing.

  A term I wasn’t used to using.

  I raised my fingers and began to tick off the points. “She eats once in the morning, once in the afternoon and once at night. Diaper changes depend on her dietary habits, so I can’t give you a set time for that, and she usually sleeps at around 8. There’s a paper on the fridge with instructions on how to make the baby formula, and all my numbers including the station’s number in case of emergencies. There’s also the doctor’s number, and the social worker’s number.”

  Lyla looked a little overwhelmed, but she did her best to hide it, as she kept her head bent and her eyes focused on the paper in front of her. “Got it. Anything else, Sheriff Baker?”

  “Please call me, Clay. You’ll get one day a week off, and when she’s sleeping, your time is yours to do with you as you please,” I explained as I stood up and brushed some lint off my jeans. “Come with me, so I can show you Emily’s room, and where you’ll be staying.”

  Lyla stood up and followed in my wake as I led her down the hallway. I noticed her politely cataloguing everything, and I wondered what she thought of the house. Did she think the mismatched furniture was sweet, or sloppy? My mom was a big fan of flea markets. Did she think the colors were too bright, or quirky?

  I had no idea why I was wondering these things. It’s not like I was asking her to move in with me forever. She was just here to watch over Emily, that’s all.

  What did I care if she liked the house?

  Except, I kind of did.

  For reasons unbeknownst to me.

  “This is my room,” I gestured towards my room, then hurried forward and opened the door to Emily’s room. I’d finally finished painting the nursery a beautiful shade of violet, and the crib in the middle, where Emily lay quietly sleeping, had been given an extra polish. When the door creaked, her eyes popped open, and she gave us both a big happy grin.

  My heart melted at the sight as I walked forward and gently picked her up. “Hey, baby girl. Did you sleep well?”

  Emily gurgled and cooed in response as she stared at Lyla in fascination. “This is Lyla. I think you’ll like her.”

  Lyla leaned in. “Hi, Emily.”

  “You’ll be staying in the guest room. It has a connecting door to Emily’s room, and feel free to decorate it however you like,” I said as I began to bounce Emily up and down.

  Emily was laughing excitedly as Lyla made faces at her. She used both of her tiny arms to reach forward, and Lyla glanced at me first before she gently took her.

  “Do you have any questions?” I asked.

&
nbsp; “Should I make a note of when Emily’s mom visits?” she asked, her blue eyes wide and unassuming.

  “No, she’s not involved in Emily’s life,” I said firmly. I could tell that Lyla was a bit startled by my forceful response, but there was nothing I could do about that now.

  She’d accidentally hit a nerve.

  I wasn’t ready to tell her about Annabelle yet.

  “Okay,” she said, her tone cheerful. “Does this mean I get the job?”

  I threw my head back and laughed. “Yes, you can start tomorrow. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  6

  Lyla

  Life in the Baker household was all business.

  Not that I had any clue what it was like before, but things didn’t seem to change that much. Not to my knowledge at least. Clay woke up at the same time every day, made the baby formula, fed Emily her bottle and then handed her over to me, so he could leave for work.

  While he did that, I took a quick shower, made a cup of coffee and mentally prepared myself for the day. He seemed to understand that I needed that time before he left because I wouldn’t be able to enjoy any of those things while Emily was with me.

  Not that she was a challenging baby, not in the slightest.

  She was the sweetest little girl I’d ever had the pleasure of looking after, and with each passing week, my fondness for her deepened. Her dimpled cheeks, toothy grin, and the way her wide baby blue eyes seemed to take in everything.

  I was becoming attuned to her moods, and she to mine.

  We were sort of like a team, the two of us.

  In short, this was the best job I’d ever had. I didn’t do much with my day off except for wander around the town, get some sun and the like, but Rockford didn’t really have much to do. Sometimes, I’d catch a movie. Other times, I’d get some ice cream and sit outside and watch life pass by.

  Regardless of what I was doing, I felt relaxed and at peace. In a way that I hadn’t in the longest time. Not since I was a little girl running around with scabby knees and bruised elbows just like one of the boys.

  There was only one thing that bothered me about this seemingly idyllic picture-perfect life.

  Clay Baker.

  It wasn’t that he was causing me problems or anything. On the contrary, he went out of his way the first couple of weeks to make sure I had everything I needed, and he was more than accommodating.

  It was downright infuriating because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to shake the little crush I’d developed on him. I had never tried so hard in my life not to notice a guy, and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t working.

  Not that he was helping.

  I’d make a comment, he’d respond, and next thing I knew, we were being flirty. I was shocked at first, and not at all sure I was reading the situation right, so I brushed it off. When it kept happening, though, I knew there was something there.

  Thankfully, both of us had the good sense not to pursue it any further than harmless flirtation. After all, flirting never did anybody any harm.

  But there were times when I’d catch him doing something like fixing the sink, or I’d accidentally catch a glimpse of his shirtless body when I passed by his room, and I’d find myself hiding till the blush went down.

  If my blush wasn’t a dead giveaway, I don’t know what was. Regardless, there was something in my gut that told me he knew for certain.

  “Good morning, Lyla,” he greeted me as he strolled into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. Today, I was up earlier than him, so I’d already changed Emily’s diaper, and set her up for another nap.

  “Emily isn’t up yet?” he inquired as he peered at me over the rim of his cup, looking particularly handsome that day.

  “Oh, no. She woke up a bit earlier, so I changed her diaper, gave her some baby formula, and she drifted off again,” I explained as I washed my cup and reached on the tips of my toes to put it away.

  I struggled as I pitched forward precariously, and Clay was by my side in an instant, one arm around my waist steadying me as the other helped to secure the cup. When he placed the cup on the top shelf, I breathed a sigh of relief and sagged against him.

  It was only then that I realized the position we were in. I froze against him, not sure what to do. On the one hand, I wanted to stay right where I was, with his hands on me, and me in his embrace.

  On the other hand, I knew this was wildly inappropriate, and I should move away right now. Clay seemed to hesitate with his hand splayed across my lower back before he reluctantly moved his hand away and coughed.

  “You should be more careful,” he said as he turned his back on me.

  “Yeah, I thought I had it under control. Thanks for helping me out,” I said gratefully, as I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “It was a bit of a tight fit there.”

  Clay’s head snapped up, a flirty smile hovering on the edge of his lips. “I know my way around tight spots.”

  “Really?” I asked as I leaned my hips against the counter, my heart pounding furiously in my chest.

  “Definitely. It’s not that hard once you get used to it, and you find that it’s accommodating too,” he said, suggestively.

  I swallowed thickly as I gave him a weak smile. “I’m sure.”

  Clay opened his mouth to say something else, but his phone went off causing both us to give it dirty looks. He fished it out of his pocket and gave me an apologetic look.

  “That’s the station. I’d better get going,” he said as he typed a few things on his phone. He gulped down the last of his coffee and grabbed the lunch bag I’d gotten used to making for him.

  “Have a good day, Lyla,” he called out over his shoulder.

  “You too,” I wished him as the door slammed shut behind him.

  I unclenched my hands and sighed as I looked down at the crescent shaped marks.

  Phew, that was a close one.

  Saved by the bell, quite literally.

  I didn’t think anything would’ve happened if he had stayed and we’d continued that particular thread of conversation, but I wasn’t willing to take any chances.

  If things went south here, I’d lose, quite possibly the best job I’d ever had, and maybe the best job I’d ever have, period.

  I didn’t want to risk that.

  No matter how much I wanted Clay.

  Besides, there was something else that needed to be considered.

  My experience…or the lack thereof.

  I’d never let being a virgin define me before, but I suddenly worried that if Clay were to ever find out, he wouldn’t look at me the same way. Like I was an ice cream sundae.

  I mean, it was different for guys, wasn’t it?

  The way they perceived sex. Most of them don’t take it as seriously as we do. Especially when it comes to their first time. Most guys I’d asked barely had anything worthwhile to say about their first time. Just that it was over too soon.

  For women, it was markedly different.

  It was a transitional event that divided your life into two. Before and after. I had no idea why giving it up was considered such a big deal, and for some a spiritual experience.

  It wasn’t about that for me.

  I just kept putting it off, coming up with excuses every time I got close, until next thing I knew, I was 20 years old, single and living in a town with very few eligible men, and even fewer desirable ones.

  Except for a certain gorgeous, dark-eyed sheriff.

  Who was completely out of my league, and probably wanted a woman with more experience anyway. He had a daughter for Christ’s sake. Sure, I vaguely remembered hearing about how she wasn’t his, but come on. Why else would the woman leave him her baby?

  It wasn’t like she was leaving him a puppy or a kitten, or a PS console. It was a living, breathing, human being, your own flesh and blood. You wouldn’t leave their care to just anyone.

  It was pointless to dwel
l on these things, but I couldn’t seem to help myself as I ran my fingers over my capris and straightened out my loose flowing top. The weather was good today, so I was going to give Emily another hour before I woke her up and took her for a stroll around the park.

  In the meantime, I could indulge in an episode of ‘Ugly Betty.’

  The thing I liked about watching a show that was no longer mainstream was that I could develop my own opinion about it without being affected by the masses. I knew it was based on a telenovela, which made it ridiculously cheesy and melodramatic, but the American remake was satirical and funny. It poked fun at it itself the whole time, and I loved that.

  It was quickly becoming a guilty pleasure.

  I took my laptop to Emily’s room, sat in the rocking chair and plugged in my hard disk. One of my few remaining luxuries. I plugged in my earphones and made sure to keep only one of them in, so I could hear Emily if she woke up.

  I snickered as Betty got up to her antics at Mode magazine, with a lot of people trying to undermine her, and her beautifully supportive family backing her up every step of the way.

  “Hey, little one,” I crouched over Emily’s crib as her arms flailed about trying to latch onto me. “Yes, I know. You’re excited about the park, huh? Let’s just get you changed, then we’ll be on our way, okay?”

  Emily grinned and made a cooing nose that had me giggling. I bent my head over the crib, lifted her shirt up and placed a raspberry kiss on her belly. That had her squirming and giggling in delight, and it put a smile on my face as well.

  A few minutes later, I was removing her dirty diaper and wrapping it up to throw it outside. I picked out a cute little onesie with flowers on it and smiled as I held it up for her inspection. “What do you think, Em? We could match, or is that too cheesy for you?”

  Emily eyed the onesie and clapped her hands together in delight.

  “I’m going to take your enthusiasm as a yes, okay?” I made faces at her as I carefully placed her in her clean onesie. Once she was secure and smelling as fresh as daisies, I picked up her baby bag and swung it over my shoulder.