Page 90 of The Rogue

I’ve fallen for Levi Reeves.

21

Tessa’s in a floralskirt today—one I picked out for her at the boutique because I thought she’d burst out laughing. But she just grabbed the hanger, held it against her waist to inspect, then gave me a curt nod.

I like her in those plaid shirts and short denim shorts. But hell, I like this look too. Especially when those full pink lips and whiskey-colored eyes are stretched in smiles and laughter.

She and Jackson set up a mid-afternoon refreshment stand outside the house, serving iced tea and muffins. Her wavy curls are tied back and hang over one shoulder. She’s a vision as she mingles with the cowboys.

Her hand goes over her eyes, blocking the sun as she focuses on something in the distance.

Following her gaze, my eyes land on the riding arena.

One of our younger cowboys, Max, is giving another riding lesson to Lizzie Thoreau. It’s her third lesson with Willow. My bet is they’ll be making an offer for her soon.

I swallow the hard lump in my throat.

At sixteen, Lizzie’s a natural rider. Her parents have been bringing her to the ranch for years. They’ve got a small farm nearby. Willow would be happy there.

I force the rigid thought out of my mind. Nothing on my ranch is “not for sale.” And Willow’s a pretty penny. Could get the outer gates replaced or something.

But fuck, this ache in my chest is stubborn.

Swallowing hard, I turn the tractor and head to the ranch gift shop.

Judging by the hint of redness glowing beneath her cheekbones, Tessa could use a nice cowboy hat.

On my way back, I hand off the tractor to Max and tell him I’ll return Willow to the stables. After a pitstop, of course.

Tessa beams when I ride up to their little stand.

“Hey, boss.” She pours what remains of the iced tea into a paper cup. “Just in time, we’re about to close up shop and head inside.”

Boss.

I don’t like it.

Maybe it’s because I want to be more than her boss. Maybe it’s because I prefer “Indie” or “Cowboy” or hell anything butboss.

Or maybe it’s a reminder that she’s on my payroll. That this is a temp job. She’s not choosing to be here. With me. With Jackson.

I hop off Willow, giving her a pat before pulling the gift bag from the saddle horn. “Got you something.”

“For me?” She shrugs at Jackson before digging into the bag. A small gasp escapes as she pulls on the fine straw hat with red trim around the base. She puts it on. “Howdy.”

I chuckle and hop back on my horse. “You fit right in.”

She smirks and picks up the empty pitcher and muffin tin. “Come on, Wiggles.” She dips her hat at Mason and Harry. “Same time tomorrow, boys.”

I watch them head up the porch steps to the house, then cock my head. “You boys need somethin’ to do?”

They exchange a look and squint back at me. “We were just wonderin’…that your girl?”

My gaze flicks back to the windows, where I vaguely see her moving about the house with my boy.

“No,” I answer firmly before giving Willow’s left rein a tug. “That’s my woman.”

Tessa and Jackson are at the bookstore yet again. With its grand opening just three weeks away, they’ve spent the last few days helping with preparations.

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