Page 40 of The Rogue

And yet, somehow, I have zero regrets about not hiring Carol. Because watching Tessa walk out of my life for good was something I didn’t realize I wasn’t ready for.

I hear her soft footsteps coming down the stairs and sniff some control into my system.

Reaching up, I pull the cowboy mug she seems to favor from the cabinet and pour her some coffee.

“Sugar?” I ask.

No response.

Fuck, did I screw up so badly that I’m getting the cold shoulder now?

“Okay, no sugar,” I turn, finding Tessa ripping her gaze off my mid-section before quickly snapping to my eyes.

“Yes, please,” she responds in a single breath.

I glance down and fuck—forgot my shirt.

I step closer, keeping the island counter between us, ignoring the fact that I am a fucking hypocrite. “How many?”

“Two.”

I drop two spoonfuls into her mug.

She smirks at the one I chose for her and takes a sip. “Perfect.”

“Sorry, I forgot to slip it back on after my workout,” I say, turning away from her lingering gaze that doesn’t help my inappropriate thoughts.

“I suppose there are things webothshould get used to.”

I glance back at her. She’s in skinny jeans and an oversized shirt.

“It’s supposed to be close to ninety today. You’re not gonna make it far in that.”

“I’ll be alright. Wouldn’t want to be dressing provocatively in front of the almost-teenager you’re raising.”

I grunt. “I overreacted, Tess.”

She twists the coffee mug between her palms.

“It’s highly unlikely that Jackson would be up that early, but I would still appreciate it if—”

“Won’t happen again,” she offers quickly.

I release a breath, my shoulders slumping. “Thank you.”

She winces and covers her eyes. “And sorry I did that thing where I—”

“It’s forgotten.” I almost laugh and cross to her, pulling her hand down. “You wouldn’t have if I hadn't crowded your personal space.”

Her eyes are on my chest, lips parting delicately. “All good.”

My gaze drops to where her teeth grab hold of her full bottom lip, and I can consider my self-control fucked.

My hand reaches to pull it from between her teeth. “You’re gonna give yourself a bruise like that.”

“You almost sound like you care,” she rasps. And God, I could get used to that voice.

I may already have.

---