Page 68 of The Rogue

But we can’twalkto those places.

And I haven’t driven since the night I put Jackson at risk.

“I know!” Wiggles calls out. “Let’s make more cookies.”

I laugh. “Again?”

Yesterday, we whipped up Bessie’s special chocolate chip cookies, the ones she makes with a generous layering of powdered sugar.

Levi’s grumpy scowl was firmly in place when he got back from the ranch just before dinner and found evidence of our sugar shenanigans on the counter. Wiggles drew a picture of a horse and wanted his daddy to see it.

“Please? I’ll be super careful not to get any on the floor.” He smiles brightly.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Fine. But first, let’s put on some sunscreen and take a walk through the ranch.”

“Again?”

“This time, we’re going to go to Pepper and Chase’s place. She said they have ice pops.”

His eyes widen. “I’m. So. In.” He races up the stairs, insisting that he’ll havetwoor no deal on all this walking.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that kid was trying to get me fired.

Not that I need help in that department.

I didn’t leave my room when I woke up this morning. I stared at the ceiling and wondered what the hell I did to this grumpy cowboy yesterday morning to make him go all one-eighty on me.

I finally ruled out asking about Jackson’s mom.

He willingly answered and I didn’t get any negative vibes after that conversation.

I finally settled on what it is.

It's me.

I’m being clingy. First, we made out, then I run into his arms because some stranger was in my kit—his—hiskitchen.

Then I hop on his horse and ask about his ex?

It’s me. I’m totally doing the one thing this man made very clear he doesn’t want.

It took every bit of energy not to hop out of bed, head downstairs, and do what I do best.

Do.

Clean, cook, bake, work out—anything.

But I don’t want to keep being a problem he has to deal with in the mornings.

That’s not what he signed up for.

And I won’tbe anyone’s burden.

Chase kicks the fridge shut,three beers in hand. “Let’s sit outside.”

I take one of the beers while Noah takes the other, lowering his glasses and inspecting the label.

“Would you prefer a nice rosé instead?”

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