PART-TIME WIFE Read online

He could handle the fact that she was an attractive woman, although the petite pixie look had never been his type. Big green eyes and a smile that promised two parts humor and one part sin was okay with him, too. The tousled just-out-of-bed look was a bit more of a problem, but he knew he would have been able to keep it all together … if she hadn't been naked.

  He swore under his breath. He'd been so worried about the boys, he hadn't noticed at first. But when she'd settled on the sofa, her full breasts had been evident beneath the thin fabric of her robe. He hadn't had a date in two years. He hadn't been with a woman for even longer. Unfortunately, his body had chosen that moment to surge back to life.

  Even with her out of the room and only the faint hint of her perfume lingering in the air, he could feel the need flowing through him. He wanted to go to her and hold her in his arms. He wanted to kiss her and—

  "Stop it," he said aloud.

  He had to get control. All that mattered was finding someone to take care of the boys. Jill Bradford was only a stopgap. He was going to have to find someone permanent. As if he had the time.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. The dull ache that began between his shoulder blades and worked its way up his neck had become a permanent companion. Now it stepped up a degree in intensity. He would start interviewing right away. The agency swore they didn't have anyone else to send him, but there had to be someone. Maybe the perfect nanny was about to leave her job somewhere else. He could only hope.

  He heard footsteps overhead. He thought about all he knew about Jill. Kim had mentioned she was recovering from a messy divorce. He could relate to that. He'd gone through the same thing nearly six years ago. Krystal had wanted out, but she hadn't made it easy. He'd hung on as best he could, trying to be both mother and father to the boys. He'd thought he was doing well, until this last year.

  What had gone wrong? Was it the hours he put in? He didn't usually volunteer for special assignments, but this one was different. There wasn't a lot of glory involved. No big drug busts, no fifteen minutes of fame on the local news report. Just directly helping those in need. He'd wanted to give something back. Were his kids paying the price for that?

  He knew some of the trouble with the boys was that they'd lost Mrs. Miller. She'd been a part of their lives for nearly five years. Coming on the heels of their mother's death— Craig shook his head. No wonder the boys weren't themselves.

  He'd done his best to keep it from happening, but history was repeating itself again. He was gone a lot, as his father had been. He was failing his kids, and he wasn't sure how to make it better.

  A thunk from the top of the stairs broke through his musings. He walked through the living room and into the hallway. Jill was dragging down a suitcase almost as big as she was.

  "I'll get that," he said, taking the stairs two at a time.

  "I can manage," she said politely, then stood aside to let him pick up the case. It wasn't very heavy, but she was so tiny, how big could her clothes be?

  "Is this it?" he asked when he reached the first floor.

  She nodded. "I can come back and get whatever I've forgotten." She had a purse over her shoulder. She shook it once, then frowned. "Keys. I need keys."

  While she glanced at the small table in the entryway, then patted her pockets, he studied her. She'd made a quick change. Her short red hair was still damp from her shower. Bangs fell nearly to her delicate eyebrows. The style left her small ears bare. She'd put on some makeup. With it, she looked older, although not anywhere near thirty, which he knew she was. She wore faded jeans that hinted at the curvy legs he'd seen just a few minutes before. The baggy white sweatshirt dwarfed her small frame. She'd pushed up the sleeves, exposing finely boned hands and wrists.

  He had the uncomfortable feeling that a man as big as himself could easily crush her if he wasn't careful.

  "My keys," she muttered, shaking her purse again. "Come on, Jill, you usually have it together."

  "But do you usually talk to yourself?" he asked.

  She looked startled, as if she'd forgotten he was there. Then she grinned. "Yeah, I usually do. Sorry. You and the boys will have to get used to it."

  "Don't worry. I talk to myself, too. A hazard of the job. Too much time alone." He motioned toward the front door. "Are those your keys in the lock?"

  She turned around and stared. "Oh. Thanks."

  He pulled them free. "Not a good idea to keep them here. If someone breaks in you want to make it hard, not easy. By leaving the keys in the door, you let him walk out the front, like he belongs here." He shifted the keys until he held the one to her car. "Not to mention giving him a nice late-model vehicle to steal."

  "Yeah, yeah, I know. But if I don't keep them in the door, I lose them."

  "You lost them anyway."

  She stared at him, then reached for her keys. He let them fall in her palm, rather than risk direct contact. Her expression turned thoughtful.

  "Craig, do you ever go off duty?"

  "Not usually."

  "How do the boys feel about that?"

  Her green eyes saw too much, he thought grimly. He raised the suitcase slightly. "Do you need anything else?" he asked.

  "Nope. I'm ready." She followed him out onto the porch, then locked the door behind them. "What, no patrol car?"

  He pointed to his two-year-old Honda. "Sorry, no. There's a utility vehicle at the house so you can cart the boys and their sports equipment around, but I use this to get back and forth to the station."

  Her red Mustang convertible was parked in the driveway. She opened the trunk and he set the suitcase inside. "Get many tickets in this?" he asked.

  "It looks flashy, but I never drive fast. I know that's disappointing, but at heart I'm pretty boring."

  He was about to tell her he wouldn't have used that word to describe her. Cute, maybe. Tempting, probably. Sexy, definitely. But boring? Not in this lifetime. And any man who thought that obviously had his head up his—

  He cleared his throat. "I live south of here. In Fern Hill."

  "I'm not familiar with the neighborhood."

  "It's an independent city. You'll like it. Just follow me. I'll go slow."

  Her gaze widened, as if she'd read more into his statement than he'd meant. Before he could explain, she smiled. "Okay, Officer Haynes, I'll be right behind you." She opened the driver's door and slid inside.

  As Craig started his car and pulled away from the curb, he thought about what Kim had said when she'd phoned to tell him she couldn't take the job.

  "I have a friend who would be perfect for you."

  In that moment, on a night when the pressures of the job and raising three kids alone had driven him to the edge of his patience, he'd wanted to believe she referred to more than a baby-sitter.

  "Pretty stupid, Haynes," he muttered. He'd given up on relationships a long time ago. There weren't any promises, no sure things. And his ex-wife, Krystal, had taught him the foolishness of trying to believe in love.

  So what if he found Jill attractive? All that meant was he wasn't as dead inside as he'd thought. Maybe it was time to think about dating. There was only one problem. He came from a long line of men particularly gifted at screwing up relationships.

  * * *

  Chapter 2

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  Craig pulled up in front of the house and motioned for Jill to park her car in the driveway. He pushed the button on the garage door opener and got out immediately, but she sat in her red Mustang, staring. He glanced at the two-story home in front of him. It wasn't all that different from his neighbors'. The area was a more recent development, about six years old. He'd bought the house after his divorce, thinking that making a clean break would make it easier for all the boys. Besides, Fern Hill had a great school system with a sports program that was the envy of the state. He'd wanted that for his sons.

  He tried to see the house as a stranger would see it. The high peaked roof was Spanish tile, as were most of the others on the street. White stucco with
wood accents, tall windows that – he squinted and stared – needed washing pretty badly. The front yard was over-sized, mowed but not trimmed. He frowned. Since taking his temporary assignment, he hadn't spent much time at home. The house showed the neglect. He wondered if the boys did, too.

  Jill stepped out of her car and gave him a slight smile. "Cops make more money than I thought," she said. "This is nice."

  "It's south of the city," he said, "so most people won't make the commute. For me, it's closer to work and closer to Glenwood, where my brothers live."

  "Great." But she didn't sound very enthused. She walked around to the rear of her car and lifted the trunk. Before she could reach for the suitcase, he grabbed it and pulled it out.

  This time her smile was genuine. "Thanks. Such nice manners. Your mother must he proud."

  Before he had to decide whether to explain that he hadn't seen his mother in years, the front door was flung open and two boys raced down the walkway. Craig grinned when he saw them.

  "Is this her?" C.J. asked. His nine-year-old looked like a typical Haynes male, with dark hair and eyes.

  "Yes. Jill, this is my middle son, C.J. Short for—"

  She looked at the boy and winked. "Let me guess," she said, interrupting. "Craig Junior."

  "Yeah." C.J. skittered to a stop in front of her and held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Ms. Bradford. I'm very much looking forward to having you as our nanny."

  She looked at Craig. "Impressive."

  He shrugged. "C.J.'s our charmer."

  "And a fine job he does, too." She took the hand the boy offered. "The pleasure is mine, young master C.J."

  Craig turned and saw Danny standing by the edge of the driveway. He motioned him closer. His youngest held back a little, then walked toward them. Big eyes took in Jill's appearance, then lingered on the bright red car. Craig put down the suitcase and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. Danny looked up at him and smiled.

  Craig could go weeks without remembering, but sometimes, like now, when Danny smiled, it all came back. Krystal hadn't come home after she'd had their youngest. She'd sent a friend to pack up her clothes, and she'd walked away without looking back. Danny didn't know his mother, although he had some of her features. When the memories returned to force open old wounds, Craig clung to the only sane and constant source of strength in his world: his children.

  He bent down and picked up Danny. The child placed one arm around his shoulder and leaned close. "She's pretty. The prettiest of all of them."

  "Yes, she is," Craig answered softly. Jill was pretty. And sexy and all kinds of things that most men would enjoy. She was also his employee, and as that, she deserved his respect and nothing more.

  C.J. was chattering on about the neighborhood, his friends and what he would really like her to serve for dinner. When his middle son started in on an earnest discussion of why it was important to have dessert with every meal, Craig interrupted.

  "I'm sure Jill knows what to prepare, C.J."

  The boy gave him an unrepentant grin. "Yeah, Dad, but a guy can always hope, can't he?"

  "Sure. Hope all you want, then eat your vegetables. Jill, this is my youngest, Danny."

  She moved close and touched the boy's arm. Her green eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled. "Hi, Danny."

  "Do you like little boys?" he asked. "Mrs. Greenway didn't. She said we were more trouble than we were worth."

  Craig winced. Mrs. Greenway had stayed for three days before he'd fired her, but she'd made a lasting negative impression on the boys.

  Jill nodded. "Of course I like little boys. What's not to like?" She glanced at Craig and rolled her eyes as if to ask what kind of person would take a job watching children if she didn't like them in the first place?

  He opened his mouth to reply, then realized he had merely interpreted her look that way. She might have meant something else entirely. He'd barely known Jill Bradford an hour. They couldn't possibly be communicating that well.

  But something bright and hot flared to life inside his chest. It wasn't about sex, although he still liked the way she looked in her jeans. It was something more dangerous. A flicker of interest in what and how a woman thought. As if they could be friends. As if he could trust her. Then he reminded himself he didn't trust anyone but family.

  "Ben said you should get Mrs. Miller back," Danny said, his hold on Craig's shoulder tightening. "I miss her, too."

  "Mrs. Miller was the boys' nanny for several years," Craig explained. "They miss her."

  Danny looked at him and bit his bottom lip. "Do you think she misses us?"

  "Of course. And now you have Jill."

  "Until spring break," she reminded him.

  "Until then," he agreed. Danny and C.J. both glanced at him. "Jill is taking the job temporarily. For five weeks. In the meantime, I'll find someone permanent."

  Neither boy said anything. Craig fought back a feeling of frustration. How was he supposed to explain and make up for the ongoing turmoil in his children's lives? It would be different if they had the stability of two parents, but there was just him. He was doing the best he could, but sometimes, like now, he had the feeling it wasn't nearly enough.

  "We've been alone for ten minutes, Dad," C.J. said. "We didn't burn the house down."

  "Congratulations," Craig said. "As I told you before, my neighbor could only stay with them for an hour, so I really appreciate you coming back with me." He glanced at his watch. Damn. He was late already.

  "I think your dad has to go to work. Why don't we go inside so he can show me everything, then be on his way?" Jill reached for Danny. Surprisingly, the boy let her lift him down. "You're heavy," she said admiringly. "You must be big for your age."

  "He's a shorty," C.J. said, but his tone wasn't unkind.

  "Am not!"

  Jill bent down so she and Danny were at eye level. "I don't think you're short."

  "That's 'coz you're shrimpy, too," he told her.

  "Don't you know all the best things come in small packages?" They smiled at each other.

  Craig picked up the suitcase again. "Lead the way," he said.

  C.J. and Danny took off through the garage. Jill followed more slowly.

  "I really appreciate you doing this," he said.

  "I'm sure it will be fine." She spoke calmly, but when she glanced at him he could see the panic in her eyes. "It's just been a while since I was around kids."

  "It's like riding a bike. You don't forget."

  "Are you saying that because you're an expert?"

  He paused in the middle of the garage. "No, because I'm a concerned father who's about to leave you alone with his three kids. I'm sort of hoping it's true so that everything will be okay."

  "Don't worry. We'll survive."

  "C.J. and Danny won't be much of a problem. They're easygoing, although some things still scare Danny."

  "He's only six. What would you expect?"

  "Exactly," he said, pleased that she was sympathetic. "Ben may not be so easy."

  "He's the oldest?"

  He nodded. "He's twelve."

  "Does he get in a lot of trouble?"

  "No. He doesn't do much of anything. He watches TV and plays video games." Craig didn't know what to do for his oldest. He didn't understand the boy's reluctance to participate in anything. Ben was the only one old enough to remember his mother. He didn't like to talk about it, but Craig knew he missed her. Maybe he even felt responsible for her leaving. But he'd never been able to get his son to talk about it.

  Nothing had been normal since Krystal left. Not that it was so great before or that he'd ever once wanted her to come back. Hell, he didn't know what was normal anymore.

  He turned around and pointed to the black sport-utility vehicle. "This is for you. You'll need it to take the boys places. C.J. plays several sports, and Danny is starting Pee-Wee league. The equipment fits in the back easily."

  "Groceries, too. I think all boys do is eat."

  Cr
aig didn't want to think about that. About Ben and how much weight he'd gained. "Yeah," he said. He walked toward the door leading into the house. "Here's the key." He touched a ring and key hanging from a hook on the wall. "It's an automatic, so you shouldn't have any trouble driving it."

  She looked at the large truck-size vehicle. "As long as I don't have to parallel park, I'll be fine."

  He opened the door and waited for her to step inside. She did so, then gasped audibly. He looked over her head and saw why.

  There was a half bath on the right and the laundry room on the left. Piles of clothing toppled out of both rooms into the small hallway. More clothing was stacked in the family room. There were books, school backpacks, newspapers and toys littering the floor, coffee table and sofa. One end of the big dark blue leather sectional was buried under jackets and a pile of clean clothes he'd managed to run through the washer and dryer the previous evening. He'd asked the boys to sort out their belongings and take them upstairs, but no one had bothered.

  Shoes formed an intricate pattern across the rug. Magazines for kids, car lovers, computer buffs and music fans had been tossed everywhere. Stacks of newspapers, more magazines, toys and a few actual books filled the bookcases on either side of the stone fireplace. The entertainment center to the right of the fireplace contained a TV, which was on, a VCR and stereo equipment. Videos had been piled next to the unit. The shelf where they belonged was bare.

  Craig shifted her suitcase to his left hand and motioned to the mess. "I don't know what to say," he murmured. "I hadn't realized it had gotten so bad."

  Jill turned and looked at him. Her green eyes were wide, her mouth open. "You didn't realize? How could you not? This isn't a mess it's a … a…" She closed her mouth. "I don't know what it is."

  "I guess I should have gotten in a cleaning service." He glanced around the room. C.J. and Danny were standing in front of the entrance to the kitchen. He was glad. If Jill saw that, she would turn tail and run. Damn it, he couldn't blame her, either. How had this happened? Why hadn't he been paying attention?

  "There are four men living here," he said, by way of an explanation.