1. Tessa
1
Present
Frank: You need to leave again.
Fuck.
I duck out into the back alley at the sight of the message on my phone. I wish I could say it’s cryptic. But it’s not.
I know exactly what this is.
It’s also a sign that he’s about to call. I breathe in the hot summer air, waiting for that shrill of a ring tone that always cuts through the stillness of my heart.
A reminder of what I’m running from.
His calls are never casual or routine; they only come when something’s gone wrong.
I’m in danger again.
With a deep breath, I lean against the rough brick wall and answer the call. “I just got back, Frank.”
“Unless you prefer the safehouse? I can arrange for it.”
“No. Place felt like a prison. I need to live , Frank.”
He sighs. Knowing I won’t have my life back until the Brunetti Cartel—the crime organization responsible for my boyfriend’s death and the bullet hole in my lower back—are all behind bars.
And that will never happen.
Frank’s been working on my case for over three years. Anyone else would have retired early, having been stuck with me.
I swallow my fear and man the fuck up. “They back in town?”
“Eddie Graves was traced to a warehouse on Emerson. He was one of them that day, Tess. We need to get you out of here—like tonight. Or…”
“Or what?”
“If you’ve no place to hide, we've got to bring you back to the safehouse.”
“You can’t just—”
“With a court order—and for your own protection—we can, Tess.”
“Fine,” I grit. “I’ll get out of town.”
“And Tess. No more funny business.”
I roll my eyes and push off the wall. “Come on, Frank. You only had to bail me out once.”
Hardly. All the man did was make one phone call and give his FBI badge number, and it was 'no questions asked' by my old boss, Sheriff Bradshaw.
The only fucker I liked in that whole building.
“Tess, this isn’t a joke. Can you try to blend in for a few weeks this time without drawing attention to yourself?”
“A few weeks, huh?” Usually, when Frank sends me out of town, it’s for two to three months at a time. Except for late last fall, when members of the cartel were here for over six months on a job.
“I think so. This will all be over soon, Tess. We’re closing in. We’ll have you back here in no time.”
“Sure takin’ a long time to ‘close in’,” I mutter.
He sighs again. “It's complicated. Can't arrest one of them just based on one witness. The rest of 'em will disappear without a trace before we have enough on the others.”
“I know. My testimony is useless.”
“It’s not useless, it’s just that we need more. When we have more on the others, we’ll have you testify.”
I shake my head. All I’m hearing is you’re not getting your life back any time soon .
“Where you goin this time?” Frank asks.
“La La Land.”
“Good answer.”
The agreement was that every time I needed to disappear, I would go to a different town to avoid suspicion or recognition.
If Frank knew my escape route had been Hideaway Springs for the last three years, he’d toss me right back in that safehouse and throw away the key.
“You got a fear of flying or somethin’?” Bessie asks. She’s the head chef at Dolmentos, a diner I work at when I’m in Summer Hill .
It’s a shithole of a town. One I ended up in because Eric—my dead ex-boyfriend—had some quick business to take care of.
I didn’t know what he was involved in.
And he didn’t know he was being set up after screwing up a delivery.
God, I hope he didn’t suspect a setup. Because if he did, the fucker deserved what he got for bringing me along.
Bessie is the only one who knows my story. She knew something was up with me the moment I walked in begging for a job—somewhere in the kitchen. Where no one could see me.
I’m in witness protection. And regardless of what I’ve been told, the FBI can’t keep me locked up in a safehouse against my will. So, Agent Frank Mercer and I came up with a mutual agreement. I cooperate by staying close to town and answering when they call, and they don’t take every legal measure to take away my freedom for my ‘ own safety’ .
“You know I can’t go far, Bessie.”
I wish I could. I’m so tired of this life, I could cry.
I crave normal.
I crave sanity.
Hell, at this point, I’ll take a full night’s sleep. I still wake up in cold sweats because of what I lived through.
Even with the freedom of roaming about outside a safehouse, I’m not free. I’m chained to this town until the entire organization is locked away.
“What if I go with you? Make sure you’re not being followed and, when the coast is clear, I’ll catch a flight back.”
I wrap the green apron around my waist. “I wouldn’t put you at risk like that.”
She purses her lips. “When do you leave?”
“As soon as I find a job in Hideaway Springs,” I whisper as if anyone could hear us.
She perks a brow. “Haven’t you exhausted all their resources by now? ”
I wince.
She may have a point. I’ve worked nearly every job in that small town and they all ended terribly.
Not to mention, the dust barely settled after I fled the place over a month ago.
The last time Frank sent me out of Summer Hill—last fall—happened to be right around the time Aiden Reeves, owner of Hideaway Springs Inn, needed a new bartender in the lobby bar.
I jumped at the chance at that job. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to secure a place to live. Not an affordable one at least. So…I snuck into one of the guest rooms…every night…for several months.
One evening in late Spring, I finished a shift, closed up, and went up to my room. I found Aiden leaning against the small window, hands in his pockets and an expression that told me I needed to explain.
Aiden was… reasonable , to say the least. He even offered to work something out if I could be honest about my situation. But I was too mortified to stick around.
Exhausted or not, I can’t help wanting to go back. Perhaps it’s the irony of the town’s name and my need to hide away.
Or maybe I’m drawn to its charming existence. There’s life on those streets. People care about their community. Friendships grow like wildflowers and families are as tight as a handmade quilt, each piece bound together by love.
I’m not looking for a permanent home there.
Nothing and nowhere is permanent—or safe—for me.
But because I’m a little bit of a masochist, I continue to choose a place where I’m known as the Town Rogue . My welcome party will likely consist of ‘you owe us money’ and ‘go back to where you came from’.
I wave her off. “Oh, I’m sure there’s something I haven’t done yet. Good labor is hard to find. And I’m ready, willing and able. ”
Bessie sighs. “Could you at least try to find something that’s not as public as bartending this time.”
I wince. “Yeah, that wasn’t the smartest choice.”
She rolls her eyes and turns back to the hot stove. “Read me off the classifieds, and I’ll tell ya if it’s a no or a go.”
With a deep breath, I settle onto a stool with my phone and type into the blank fields.
Here goes nothing.
Job Search – Hideaway Springs
1 result.
Single dad rancher seeking live in nanny for 9-year-old boy. Must have experience, playful and not looking for a real-life love story.
Temp job - 6 weeks only.
I chuckle but at the same time, want to cry. This can’t be it. There can’t just be one job in the entire town.
Hell, I have a better chance at Aiden hiring me back than his oldest, grumpiest son, Levi.
I toss my phone across the counter with a growl and wince at the sound of a crack.
Bessie jerks and lifts it off the floor. “I’ve got to see this.” She sets her glasses over her eyes. “Oh hey, look at that. That’s somethin’ new. And you get a room.” She hands it back to me. “Doesn’t get any better than that. Put me down as a reference. I’ll tell ‘em you used to babysit my niece or somethin’. ”
I snatch it back and feel a scrape of cracked glass against my fingers. Ouch. I flip my screen over to her. “ This is Levi Reeves. If —and that’s a very big if—the grumpy cowboy hires me to watch Wiggles, I’d be sleepin’ with the horses. Not his house.” I shake my head and hit refresh.
No change.
Bessie frowns. “Wiggles? Thought it said nine-year-old boy, not a pet.”
“Yeah. Kid wiggles a lot. It’s kinda cute.”
“Cute? You don’t like kids.” Bessie perks a curious brow.
I shrug defensively, smirking as I remember the ruffle haired small-town boy who just wants to have fun. “This one’s cute. He used to get dropped off at the Inn when Levi was working. I’d make his fries extra crispy. And Aiden taught me how he likes his ice cream sundae; vanilla only, a touch of hot fudge, two cherries.”
Bessie watches me. “You ‘bout done?”
I shake it off. “Anyway, that’s all. Doesn’t mean I qualify to be anyone’s nanny .” I say the word with enough disgust to disqualify me immediately.
She oils a pan. “You sure it’s the same guy?”
“There’s only one ranch in that town, and it’s his. I’m positive.”
“Well, who cares? Tess, the man’s offering a bed . I’d at least give it a try. Especially since it sounds like you could somewhat stand the kid.”
I hold up the phone to her again. “Look at that last line. What does it tell ya about the guy?”
She scoffs. “That he’s got a sense of humor?”
“That he’s a conceited jackass who will laugh in my face.”
“Tess. Look again. That last line is your ticket! That guy—as grumpy as he may be—is looking for exactly your type. Get in, do your job, and get out.”
I flip the phone around with a scowl. Huh .
I shake my head. “What if he doesn’t, Bess?”
Her tone softens. “Then you get over your infatuation with that town and go to the next one over.”
At this point, I’m not sure what’s more daunting. My life in danger…
Or facing the gorgeous grump who hates me the most.