Page 91 of The Rogue

I’ve been tied up at the ranch, but word is Charlie’s in a real tizzy. Fussing over every little thing to make sure that bookstore opens up just right.

Tess sure has got her hands full these days between my adventure-seeking kid and Shelf-zilla. That’s Tessa’s new name for her.

I’d like to think she’s found some peace here on my ranch. In my house. But exhaustion is probably the real reason for her restful nights.

She’s been in my bed almost every night. If not with the lights off, then with the covers on.

She never stays.

I’ve never been one to force a woman to spend the night. But it’s damn hard to accept a no when I’m well aware of what holds her back.

She’s anxious about the nightmares that could come back.

The bullet scar.

And whatever else she’s keeping from me that’s haunting her.

One thing’s for sure. When the summer is up, I’m not letting her leave without knowing she’s safe.

That is, if I’m able to let her go at all.

If I’m having a hard time walking her across the hall, there’s almost zero chance I’m letting her walk out the front door.

A car rolls up the driveway, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I recognize Noah’s bright-light SUV and toss the towel on the counter before moving to the door. As part of a new routine, I keep it locked at all times.

Noah, Chase, and Jackson step inside while my eyes sweep behind them. “Forget someone?”

They slip off their shoes like they’re staying and head to the kitchen. “Smellsgood,” Chase drawls.

Noah spins, snapping his finger like he forgot to mention something. “The girls asked Tessa to hang back with them. Said they had more work to do.”

Chase shuts the fridge. “Yeah, right. If I know my wife—and the bottle of margarita mix she brought along—I’d say they’re not gettin' muchworkdone,”

Noah takes two beers from him and passes me one. “Your girl’s a bad influence, Levi. If I get a call from the Sheriff’s office, you’re bailing them outandpaying for any damages.”

“First,ifthey’re out wrecking the town, how is Pepper and Charlie dragging Tessa alongherfault? Second”—I smack his arm, cocking my head toward my kid—“she’s not my girl.”

Noah winces and mouths an apology.

Chase pulls the lid off the pot. “You cook?”

“I always cook.”

“Not likethis.” He scans the counter, smelling the pepper steak dish. “Is that fresh garlic?”

I set an extra plate for the table and shove my brother out of the way. “Wash your hands and take Jackson with you.”

“Come on, buddy. Let’s wash up.” Chase clasps his hands and points to the kitchen sink.

“But I washed at the store,” he whines.

“Wash again,” the three of us call back.

“What are they doing anyway?” I mutter, setting a pitcher of water on the table. Between the three of us, we’ll go through it.

Chase especially. He follows a strict diet as an athlete, including a full glass of water before each meal.

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