Page 13 of The Rogue

I pluck a book from the shelf. Noah and his live-in girlfriend, Charlie, are opening a bookstore in the fall. Charlie brings a new book for Jackson every Sunday dinner at Dad's, impressively keeping up with his interest.

That woman is as talented at reading young minds as she is at stealing the heart of my grumpy little brother.

They met when Noah was in law school, and Charlie was a lost undergrad—dated briefly until a horrible misunderstanding tore them apart. A few months ago, she was wrongfully evicted, and instead of suing the bastard landlord on her behalf, my little brother moved her into his place. It’s no surprise those two gave up their stubborn feud and ended up in the sack.

My voice is steady and warm as I start to read. Jackson snuggles close—something I know he’ll be getting too old to do soon enough—so I soak it up, pulling him against me. His eyelids grow heavy before I even get to the second page.

About halfway in, I close the book, watching Jackson’s small chest rise and fall in a peaceful rhythm.

I bend to kiss his forehead. “Night, cowboy.”

Back downstairs, I survey the rest of the floor. Place wouldn’t mind a housekeeper either. I read something about a messy home causing unidentifiable stress.

I wonder if we’re both affected by it.

Jackson seems fine, but hell, what if the mess symbolizes how chaotic his life is? How I need to be careful that his mother doesn’t come back into his life. How protective I am of his heart. His expectations.

His need for a mother Lilly never wanted to be.

I check the time. Only nine o’clock. Why the hell does it feel like midnight?

I sigh, shutting the lights to blind myself of the mess in the living room.

Worry about it tomorrow.

I don’t get far up the stairs when the doorbell rings.

Who the hell?

I peek out to the driveway, the porch lighting doesn’t give me much, but there is a car—a small, old car—now parked next to mine.

I yank the door open and blink—my breath catching in my throat.

Tessa’s chest hikes as she lifts her chin. Those wild auburn curls hang longer over her shoulder. Her freckled skin now slightly sun-kissed. Her lips, still full and smooth, with that little part in the middle still drawing my gaze like it’s begging for me to part them further.

“You’vegotto be kidding me,” I finally say.

She grins and holds up a hand. “Sorry, I’m late. I’m your six o’clock.”

I frown at her delusion. “You’re not my six o’clock. My six o’clock was a no show by the name of—Tessa, what the hell are you doing here? At my door, after dark.”

“Bessie is my closest friend—and occasional colleague. The job you posted required a quick call before setting an appointment, so…she did me a solid.”

“Did. You. A. Solid.”

She rolls forward and back on her heels. “Yep. Clever, huh?”

My glare is hard. Icy, hopefully. But as usual, she’s not fazed.

“Bessie is super cool. You’d really like her.”

I raise my brows. “Great. Is she looking for a job?”

“Come on, Levi, what was I supposed to do? This is the only job opening in town. Trust me, I hit refresh seventeen times on my drive over. I mean yes, I expected you to laugh in my face, but hear me out, I’ve already written your pros and cons list.”

Her face is no laughing matter. Even in the moonlight, she’s a vision and a half.

Tearing my eyes off her pouty features that are about to do a number in my pants, I scan the rest of her. She’s in jeans and a white crop top, highlighting her toned, tanned arms and neck.

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