Falling for the Nanny (5 page)

The fist vanished, but now the occupant kicked the door open even wider. Two sock-clad feet and a pair of loose-fitting black pants stuck out. Judging by the wiggling, the idiot was pulling on his pants. Changing clothes, right here in the parking lot.

Alec had no intention of abandoning the only available space. Leaving the SUV in the aisle, he marched over. “Hey! I need to park. How about a little consideration?”

Then he noticed that the black pants had a satin tuxedo stripe up the side. And that the person squirming around in the back seat wasn't a guy, but a woman with straight blonde hair and an aggrieved thrust to her jaw.

He nearly laughed out loud, except he doubted Patty would appreciate his amusement. Seeing her felt good, though. Damn, he'd missed her and her shenanigans.

Patty executed a quick movement that brought her face into scowling range. “How about you stick your space-hogging… Oh, hey, Alec.”

“What's going on?” he asked, and gave up trying to stifle his grin.

“I'm the maid of honor,” she said as if that explained everything. “Just finished a job.”

“Why aren't you getting dressed in the bridal chamber?”

“Can you do that?” she asked as she fastened her pants. “I've never been in a wedding before.”

“I believe they reserve a room for the bride and her attendants.” Never mind—she was nearly dressed, anyway. Then he spotted a brownish-red patch on her cheekbone. “Where'd you get the bruise?”

“Creep tried to roofie my client's daughter right in the middle of a restaurant.” As usual, she spoke in a kind of verbal shorthand.

“You got into a fight?” Alec couldn't think of any other woman who would take a punching match in stride. He didn't much like the idea that Patty put herself at risk as part of her job, but he admired her courage. Always had.

“Yeah.” A couple of black slip-on shoes hit the pavement. Patty stuck her feet in them and stood up, tucking a white shirt into the pants. She didn't seem to notice how invitingly the shirt stretched over her full breasts. “You gonna help or what?”

“Oh. Sure.” Since she obviously didn't need help tucking in her shirt, he peered at the heap of junk in the backseat, registering a badly folded newspaper, take-out bags, a baseball cap, a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, sneakers, a worn duffel bag and, perched on top, a shiny black jacket. Alec handed it to Patty.

“Thanks, but that's not the problem.” She gestured down at the pants, which hung well over the shoes. “Can you believe this? They aren't hemmed!”

“You didn't try it on first?”

“I ordered it and it just arrived yesterday. I'm five-eight. Pants are never too long for me.” She frowned. “I thought I had a stapler, but I can't find it. You got any tape?”

Staple the hem of her pants? He supposed the idea made sense in the spontaneous world of Patty Hartman. “I might. Hang on.” From the SUV's map compartment, he
retrieved a roll of double-sided tape. “Good thing I like to be prepared.”

“You were always good with your hands.” Patty gave him a meaningful look.

Heat shimmered through Alec at the memory of touching her, everywhere. Well, almost everywhere. They'd gone at each other with an intensity his post-adolescent self had outgrown. Or had never managed to find again, and somehow convinced himself he didn't need.

To cover his response, he knelt and set to performing an emergency operation on her hem. He did his best to ignore the debris from the pavement digging into his knees. “So this jerk decked you?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of? You've got the bruise to prove it.” Alec heartily wished he could return the favor to whoever had targeted Patty.

“Looks can be deceiving. See, there was this girl meeting a scumbag she contacted on the internet. Even though he's obviously twice the age he said he was, she sits right down, and then leaves her coffee unprotected while she goes to the bathroom. Then he pours something in it.”

Her body braced as if preparing to do battle all over again. One knee grazed Alec's temple, almost like a caress. “Stop fidgeting.”

“I'm late! Just stick the hem so it doesn't drag on the ground.”

“Yes, that would be the idea,” he replied dryly. Easier said than done. The fabric had to be folded and smoothed so it didn't wrinkle, and his hands kept brushing her bare ankle. And itching to move upwards….

“So, she lifts this doctored coffee but doesn't drink. Instead, she stares at him and roars, ‘How dare you prey on
girls like me! What do you think we are, objects put here for your perverted pleasure?'”

“She set him up?”

“Yeah. Turns out she blogs about the perils of online dating and set out to find a fellow she could write about. How do you like that?”

“I'd say he deserved it.” Alec set to work on the second pant leg.

Patty ruffled his hair lightly. “Great haircut. You get that around here? Some of the cops could use a good barber.”

“No, in Boston. But you can do that again,” he murmured, his scalp tingling.

“What?”

“You want to scratch me around the ears, too? I always liked that.”

Patty chuckled. “Keep working down there, will you?”

“Nearly done.” Alec tore off a last piece of tape. “You still haven't explained how you got the bruise.”

“The guy was ticked,” Patty said. “He lunged across the table and grabbed her neck. Obviously, I had to take him out.”

“And he punched you in the cheek.” Again, Alec felt the urge to hunt down the man and smack him one in return.

“Naw. Judi threw her coffee on him. Good aim, only her elbow caught me and wham! Lights, sound and music. Quite a show. It'll be a fun shade of purple by tomorrow.”

He straightened and brushed off his knees. So it had been an accident. “Glad you're okay.”

She glanced down at her newly hemmed pants. “Nice job.”

“Tell me you had this guy arrested. I don't like to think about him running loose.”

“Oh, the police got there a minute later and hauled him away in cuffs,” Patty assured him. “The evidence in the coffee
is kaput, but they found the vial in his pocket. They'll be testing that for residue.”

A totally unrelated question came to Alec. “By the way, how come you're wearing a tux instead of a dress?”

“I hate dresses.” She swung the car door shut.

“You looked beautiful at the homecoming dance.” He'd been stunned at Patty's sensuality in a low-cut neckline and teasingly thigh-high skirt.

“And that worked out so well for me.” She grabbed the rest of her gear and strode toward the chapel.

She'd given up wearing dresses because he'd broken up with her a few days later? It hadn't occurred to Alec until now how powerful an impact their breakup might have had on his sturdy girlfriend. She'd always seemed so resilient.

Yet twelve years later she refused to wear a bridesmaid's dress to her friends' wedding. He'd hurt her, and he regretted that, deeply.

Maybe he was taking too much blame for her wardrobe choices. In many ways, Patty was the strongest woman he'd ever met.

Then it came to him. Who better to supervise security for his daughter? Fiona already liked Patty, and his mother probably wouldn't mind having a woman guard around nearly as much as a male. And Alec couldn't think of anyone he'd rather spend time with than his old friend.

It was the best idea he'd had all day. Now all he had to do was persuade Patty to go along with it.

Brides were always beautiful, but to Patty, Nora Kendall eclipsed them all. Blonde with green eyes, she could have passed for a stereotypical cheerleader—exactly Leo's type—except for that knowing spark in her gaze. Instead of white, she'd chosen a stunning dress of beige with rose-colored panels. It flattered her skin tone and disguised the slight swell that, six months from now, would produce a young Nora or Leo.

“Sorry I'm late,” Patty said in the entry hall as she joined Nora and her father, Dwight Halvorsen, a tall, gray-haired man Patty had met the previous night at the rehearsal. The guests were already seated on the other side of a curtained doorway, except for Alec, who appeared a moment later looking apologetic as he slipped through a side entrance into the chapel.

“That's fine. I wasn't worried, since you called,” Nora replied, with remarkable calm for a bride.

She hadn't acted flustered last night at the rehearsal, either, or the previous week at her bridal shower. That seemed odd to Patty, until Nora explained that she'd had a much grander wedding years ago. “I wasted a lot of energy on a guy who made a lousy husband. This time, I'm marrying the right man, and I intend to enjoy myself.”

“I can vouch for Leo,” Patty had said. “He's a great partner.
I mean, in the purely cop-type sense. But probably in the husband-type sense, too.”

“Having you here means a lot to both of us.”

“Me, too. Thanks for being a good sport.” Patty knew Nora could have had her pick of bridesmaids, including Bailey, several girl cousins and her old friend and obstetrician, Paige Brennan. That had to be a first, the bride's obstetrician throwing her a shower. Patty had been kind of a klutz at most of the games, until it came to aiming pink beribboned darts at a heart-shaped board. She'd nailed that one, and taken home red-and-black thong panties as her prize. They might come in handy as a gag gift one of these days.

“Are you all right?” Dwight indicated her cheek. “That's a nasty contusion.”

Contusion? Oh, yeah, he was a biology professor, Patty recalled. “I got a little too close to somebody's elbow. No big deal.”

A pink-suited woman who worked for the wedding chapel materialized from a hallway. “Everybody ready?” she asked. “Maid of honor, where's your bouquet?” Good question.

“You mean this isn't for me?” With a wink, Dwight Halvorsen handed Patty a mound of pink and purple flowers.

“Mmm.” Patty buried her nose in them. “Smells great.”

“It's four o'clock.” For the first time, Nora sounded a little nervous. Well, naturally. This was a big moment.

From within the chapel, the buzz of voices sank to a murmur. The bearded young photographer who'd captured Patty's arrival disappeared into the interior.

“You remember what to do?” Nora asked.

“Uh, walk?”

“Slowly.”

“Yeah. Right.” The minister had joked about the fact that
there was no prize awaiting her at the altar. Not this time, anyway.

Patty had been certain she could tame her normally free-swinging stride. Now, she wasn't so sure. She could still feel the adrenaline pumping from her rush to get here, and from being close to Alec. Feeling his breath on her ankles, touching his thick hair… It wasn't fair that the old reactions kept sneaking back. Not fair at all.

From inside, piano music provided her cue. “Deep breath,” the pink-suited woman told Patty, and counted out an agonizingly slow “One…two…three…” to set the pace. Then she pulled aside the velvet curtain.

“One…two…three…” Patty tried to keep the count, but she preferred to concentrate on the faces peering at her. She spotted Detective Captain Alan Reed, who was Leo's boss, and officers George Green and Bill Sanchez, who'd driven past her the other day. Kate Franco, Leo's sister-in-law. Bailey Wayne, Nora's nurse, who'd been a few years behind Patty in high school. They'd been friends, although they hadn't kept in touch.

Wait a minute. Why was Bailey sitting with Alec? They both worked at the medical center. Could they be, like, dating?

Why should you care, anyway?

She dragged her gaze to the row in front of them, where Mike's head and shoulders stuck up above the people around him—no surprise, since he was six foot four. He gave Patty a thumbs-up. Apparently he approved of the way she'd handled the restaurant ruckus.

At the altar, Leo waited beside his brother, Tony. A pair of handsome, brown-haired guys in tuxes, they stood braced the same way, with their feet slightly apart. Both very steady, the kind of men you could count on.

Patty inhaled as she reached them. She'd forgotten about counting. “Too fast?” she muttered to Leo.

“Can't be fast enough for me,” he replied.

She took her position on the other side of the altar, abuzz with anticipation as the music changed to a wedding march. The curtain drew back again, and in stepped Nora on her father's arm.

The swell of music, the scent of flowers, the graceful approach of a woman so lovely that every bridal magazine in the world ought to feature her on the cover… How did that feel? Patty wondered. She couldn't picture herself in the role. She'd never dreamed about choosing a gown or picking bridal colors or seeing the man she loved standing by the altar, bursting with happiness.

If she'd toyed with the idea once or twice, back when she was dating Alec, Patty had long ago discarded those reflections. The few other lovers she'd had through the years hadn't even come close.

Besides, there'd been no room for frills or romanticism in her upbringing. The first home she remembered was a cluttered, hippie-style pad where her parents spent most of their sporadic earnings on marijuana. By the time they'd cleaned up their act, social workers had removed Patty and Drew to their grandfather's loving but stern home.

Now here she stood across from Leo, whose face glowed as he reached to take his bride from her father. Nora beamed up at him, her happiness a testament to second chances.

Was Patty getting tears in her eyes? How humiliating. Except, thank goodness, other people were crying, too. Until now, she'd never understood why people cried at weddings. It must be the memories.

With an effort, she managed not to look at Alec. Well, not straight at him. She could tell he didn't have his arm around Bailey or anything.

What was going on with them?

 

A
LEC DIDN'T CARE MUCH
for weddings. He supposed his antipathy dated from his own seven years earlier. Sabrina's parents had sprung for an elaborate affair, but insisted on holding it in Manhattan, even though the bride, groom and most of their friends lived in Colorado. There'd been a long weekend filled with dinners and parties, where he'd stood around in uncomfortable clothes greeting strangers—relatives and business acquaintances of his new in-laws—and watching his wife-to-be waver between euphoria and irritability.

He'd figured the moodiness would pass. He'd been wrong.

Now, while Bailey chatted with a couple of people from the hospital, Alec saw Patty posing for photos with the rest of the bridal party in one corner of the banquet hall. She'd made quite an impression striding up the aisle in her tuxedo, wearing her bruise like a badge of honor.

Patty the warrior. Patty the fierce protector. Exactly what his daughter needed.

As soon as the photographer released his subjects, Alec tapped Bailey's shoulder. “I know they don't plan a formal receiving line, but let's go congratulate the bride and groom.”

“Great! And I'd love to talk to Patty. She was so nice to me in high school, even though I was an underclassman.” Vivacious, with short, curly brown hair and a sprinkling of freckles, Bailey spilled out words as naturally as she breathed. “My family was a mess—my older sister, Phyllis, had to practically raise me. Patty understood, because she lived with her grandfather. She made me feel normal.”

“Normal counts a lot when you're a teenager.” Not that Alex had wasted his energy worrying about being popular. Getting high grades and test scores, taking advanced placement courses and being accepted by the right college had been his fixation. That, and spending as much time as possible with Patty.

His two passions had collided with a fury at the worst
possible moment. And he'd nearly made the wrong choice. Although he sometimes wondered about what might have been, he'd never doubted his decision.

As he guided Bailey toward the bridal couple, the crowd gathered around them. The knot of well-wishers was so thick, Alec and Bailey stopped short, their view half blocked by the towering man in front of them.

The throng parted as Patty came diving through. She accepted a chorus of greetings with a friendly “Back at ya!” and headed straight toward Alec. Good. He'd been hoping they could find a moment to talk.

Ignoring him, she addressed the giant. “So, Mike, you grab anything to eat yet?”

“Did you tell Leo I was here as your guest? He gave me a strange look,” the man said. “I'm not one of his closest pals from the department, you'll recall.”

“Might have slipped my mind.”

The guy touched her cheek. “That's turning an interesting shade.”

“Purple?”

“Among others.”

“Good advertising,” she announced.

Who was this Mike person? Alec wondered grumpily. If Patty meant anything to him, why didn't he protect her from flying elbows and drink-doctoring weirdos?

Alec was trying to figure out how to draw her attention when Bailey beat him to it by calling out, “Patty!”

She gave her a friendly wave. “Hey, Bailey.”

“Guess what?” the nurse cried in a voice that carried over the hum of conversation. “I'm pregnant!”

Alec could have sworn every single person in the ballroom, right down to a waitress cleaning up a spilled drink, turned to look.

As for Patty, she wasn't smiling at Bailey. She was glaring straight at Alec.

 

P
ATTY'S RUSH OF OUTRAGE
surprised her. Why should she be so upset that Alec Denny, barely arrived in town, had decided to make babies with an old friend from high school who wasn't her?

She'd just never imagined he felt that way about the bubbly underclassman. Patty was almost certain the two hadn't dated way back then. So how and when had they reconnected? And what was this business about having babies, anyway? Wasn't one daughter enough?

Mike was watching her curiously, so she dug deep and said, “Congratulations, Bailey. And you, too, Alec.”

They both blinked as if she'd said the wrong thing. Patty was good at that, but this time she felt fairly certain she'd observed the social graces. In case she'd left anything out, however, she added, “I'm sure Fiona will love having a little brother or sister.”

“Yes, that's wonderful news,” added her companion, extending his hand. “Hi, I'm Mike Aaron. Patty works with me at Fact Hunter Investigations.”

“Alec Denny. Director of the new laboratories at Safe Harbor Med Center.” The men shook hands. “There seems to be a misunderstanding.”

Yeah?
This Patty had to hear.

“Oh, it's not
Alec's
baby.” Bailey was practically hopping up and down with excitement. “I'm a surrogate for my sister and brother-in-law. Isn't that cool? I mean, I wish Alec could have helped, but he wasn't here.”

Mike and Alec seemed at a loss for words. “Yeah, he's quite a stud,” Patty said.

The nurse flushed as red as a valentine. “I mean, because he's a clinical embryologist. Instead, I went to this center in L.A.”

“What exactly is a clinical embryologist?” Mike asked.

Alec responded with practiced professionalism. “I work
with human embryos. Once our labs are set up, we'll perform in vitro fertilization, process sperm for artificial insemination and handle a variety of related processes.”

“You use sperm donors?” Mike inquired.

“That's part of it,” Alec said. “We also help couples conceive their own genetic babies using less than optimal eggs or sperm, and in some cases we can prevent birth defects. The field is rapidly advancing and Safe Harbor will have the most up-to-date facilities available.”

“About these donors. I've always wondered—where do you find them?” Mike asked.

Patty nearly teased him about wanting to become one, but decided against it. Mike's sense of humor could be unpredictable.

“Sperm banks advertise at universities and other likely places to find acceptable donors,” Alec said. “Others put ads on the internet, but we have to be very careful.” He explained that donors were screened for infectious and genetic diseases, personal histories, physical characteristics and personality traits.

Patty only half listened. She was still enjoying the fact that Alec wasn't about to become a father again and that Bailey, given her condition, wasn't likely to be in the market for a guy right now.

“You and Patty are both detectives?” Alec's question penetrated her thoughts.

“We are.” Mike straightened, going on new-business alert. “I'm licensed by the state of California, and Patty works for me. Can we help you with something?”

“Possibly.”

Mike handed him a card. “I have eleven years' experience as a police officer, including five years as a detective, plus a master's degree in criminal science.”

“Do you handle security?” Alec asked.

What was going on? Patty wasn't sure she liked the idea of having Alec as a client. If she were assigned to guard him, she might have a little trouble keeping her mind on her work. Anyway, why would he need guarding?

Mike was forging ahead smoothly. “We're a small agency, but we are licensed to do bodyguard and security work. I can make a referral if you need crowd control.”

“It's more in the nature of…” Alec glanced around. “We should talk privately.”