Page 36 of The Rogue

“You don’t have a place of your own?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t have been living at the Inn for six months.”

He watches me—clearly another question on his mind. But lets it go. Shifting his gaze, he crosses to a calendar on the refrigerator. “Jacksonhas a handful of activities planned for the rest of the summer. Some with friends from town, some with family. It’s all here. I’m up at six every morning and then head down to my gym for thirty minutes before heading to the ranch. You’re free to use it after that.”

“Or before,” I mutter.

“And about your early hours.” He turns to me. “I don’t like it.”

“I’m sorry?”

“That may have worked for you before, but you’re responsible for a child now. I need you focused and alert.”

This makes me want to scream. Because my internal alarm clock is not by choice. It’s a goddamn curse. One that no kiss from a frog is going to break. But I don’t come with much else to offer, so with this, I appease him. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Great. Any questions?”

“Can I stay in the den?”

“What?”

“I like it in the den. Can I stay there?”

“There’s no door.”

“I’ll change in the bathroom.”

“What’s wrong with the bedroom?”

The wardrobe. The door. Window too high from the ground.

“Nothing, it’s fine. It’ll be fine.” I convince myself.

“Are you overwhelmed?”

“No,” I lie.

The tension is so high, and the truth of the matter is, I’ve been living with enough self-doubt and depreciation to have to put up with it from this guy.

“One more thing.” I slide off the seat and cross the space between us. His eyes sweep over me but are unreadable as I stop directly in front ofhim. “Either you fix your tone when you speak to me, or you’ll be right back where you started.”

He holds my gaze for a beat, and I can’t tell if it’s my imagination or if he’s tilting toward me. Maybe even smelling the top of my head?

Pulling back, he drags a hand down his face and gives me a quick nod. “Okay.”

“Can we get ice cream at Millie’s today?” Jackson asks as he hands me dry dishes from the washer that I ran overnight.

It’s my second full day with Jackson and so far, so good. Who knew I’d be good at this nanny thing? Who knew it’s basically living your day-to-day, cooking, tidying up, and talking nonsense to your customers as you refill their coffee?

Except it’s one customer, and it’s apple juice.

“Um…” I turn to the schedule. Tomorrow is a big day. In addition to a few errands to run in town, I’m supposed to have him at the Inn for something called a ‘Web Party’. “Yeah, we’ve got room for ice cream today.” I scan his snug outfit. “But first, I want to go through your closets and pick out some things that might be a little small for you that we can donate.”

“Okay.” He closes the empty dishwasher.

I would have emptied the thing earlier myself—when I was up at four-fifteen this morning. But with Levi’s warning that I can’t be waking up at ungodly hours of the night, I opted for little to no noise around the house.

Bright side is, I got in a good workout in his fully equipped gym, washed my hair, let it air dry, and read a magazine about agriculture. I waited until after the boys were up to start moving about in the kitchen. Least I could do is make itlooklike I woke up at a normal hour.

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