Page 31 of The Rogue

She zips her mouth shut and winks at Jackson.

I’m going to regret this.

The second contestant of the day is Becca Fischer. She's thirty, relatively new in town, and keeps staring at my biceps like she’s mentally fitting me for a new suit.

So far, she’s a huge step up from the first interview, who looked like she stepped out of a fairytale, ready to fall into song and dance. She wouldn’t last five minutes with Jackson.

“So, Becca, where’d you live before Hideaway Springs?”

“Texas. Born and raised. My parents moved here, and I followed them to ensure they were okay. You know people don’t want to admit they need their children to care for them when they’re older, but I don’t think they can function without me.”

It's a harsh statement to make but I ignore it. “So they live here too, then?”

She grins and bobs her head. “Yep.”

There’s something off about her, but I need to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Why do you want to be a nanny?”

“I love taking care of people.” She scans me and licks her lips. “Some say I’m a giver.”

Tessa whistles provocatively behind me.

I drop my head and press my lips together to keep from laughing.

A spray bottle and rag in hand, Tessa circles my chair, her tone a little snappy. “It’s a live-in position. Would that work for you, given you live with your parents to uh…take care of them?” she asks.

Becca blows it off without a thought. “Oh yeah. They’ll be fine without me.”

Sixty seconds later, I’m walking Becca out—who Tessa bullied into admitting that her parents allowed her to live with them temporarily as long as she found work.

I shut the door and glare at the temporary intruder in my home, and she lifts her shoulders innocently. “What? They were total jokes. One basically offered you a blow job, and the other wanted to turn your son into a ballerina.”

I stride past her, muttering. “I’ll take a blow job over a police record.”

She extends her hands like we finally agree on something as she follows me into the main room. “Well, why didn’t you say so? Drop 'em, Cowboy.”

I flip back to her. “I wasjoking.”

“Uh…so was I.” She winces, scratching her head.

I bite down a chuckle and check my phone to see who’s next. Christ. There’s only one more.

“And how is living with your parents worse than sneaking into a hotel room every night after your shift?”

“When you give me a proper interview, I’ll tell you.” She pops a blueberry in her mouth and I check the time, noting she hadn’t eaten yet.

I tear my gaze off her lips and sigh.

One more.I’ve got one more and I’m confident about this next one. I know her from town. I know her parents. Shehasto be it.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rings and Tessa grabs a duster as if someone just called “Places”. With a headshake, I pull the door open and plaster a smile.

“Carol, hi.”

A kind, warm smile greets me. “Mr. Reeves, hi.” Carol is in a pale pink blouse and flowy skirt that falls to her knees. It’s summery and appropriate.

“Please, come in.”

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