Page 29 of The Rogue

“You offered to help me before. I could use some help finishing dinner. It’s chicken. There’s veggies. You like wine? I prefer beer, but should have a bottle of red somewhere—”

“Please stop.” I take his hand. Shocked by an electrical current that zips through my veins. “I’ll have dinner with you.”

His eyes dip to where we’re connected. “I may not have wine…”

“I prefer beer.”

7

Tessa’s up early again.

I can smell the bacon from my bedroom upstairs.

Yesterday was an off day. I overslept, waking at seven instead of six. The failed interviews from the previous night took a toll on me and Tessa showing up at my door threw me off kilter.

She’s the woman I’d fought to leave my town every time she turned up, and knowing she was right downstairs kept me up longer than ideal.

But now I’m up an hour before yesterday, and it’s like she’s keeping up with our internal clocks the way she manages to be up before me.

The steps creak as I make my way down.

Tessa is in a new outfit. Denim shorts and a plaid blouse. Her smooth long legs are toned and tanned. Her hair is tied in a ponytail over one shoulder, strands of curls falling loose at every end.

The dark circles under her eyes suggest that, once again, she didn't get more than five hours of sleep.

She glances up at me mid-task. “Mornin’.”

“Mornin’.” I look down at the spread she’s preparing. It looks suitable for a bed and breakfast. “You gonna eat any of it this time?”

She scrunches her nose like I’d just asked if she’d consume a raw egg. “No thanks. And I’m gettin’ out of your hair soon. Pepper said I can wait in her cottage till my car’s ready.”

“Why?”

“Assume you’re all leaving the house this morning, and I can’t stay here alone.” She shrugs like it’s the obvious reason. “Might wreck the place.”

“That’s not your style,” I say with confidence, pouring myself a cup of coffee from the freshly filled pot.

“What’s my style?”

I fold my arms across my chest and lean against the counter, assessing her. “You cause trouble, not vandalism.”

“Maybe I’ll surprise you and switch it up.” She holds my gaze and perks a brow, and damn, it’s too sexy.

I ignore the flirtatious comment and push off the counter. “Besides, I’m home all morning, so you don’t need to rush out. Car should be here by noon.”

She plates pancakes and glances over at the ranch. “Thought you cowboys work round the clock.”

“Daylight mostly, unless there’s an emergency. My men are out there, but I’ve got a few more interviews this morning.”

She sets an empty batter bowl in the sink and runs the water. “Indie, come on. Who are you kidding? You are not going to find the perfect nanny.”

“I don't need perfect. I just need someone responsible and experienced to watch my kid.”

She holds out her arms. “I’m responsible.”

I scoff. “You’re responsible for a heck of a lot that no one bothered holding you accountable for.”

“Look, you know I’m good for feedin’ the kid and he’s safe with me—what more do you want?”

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