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Paige

The doorbell jingles as I step foot inside the small café. I’m early for my job interview and don’t want to show up before my appointment.

Thankfully, I only had to wait a day for the interview.

Sleeping in my car sucks.

I grab an overpriced coffee and then a seat at a table, keeping an eye on the time.

My focus is primarily on my phone. The coffee shop at two in the afternoon is pretty quiet, except for the hiss and whirl of the machines as the barista prepares a coffee for another customer.

I glance up briefly from my phone and offer a weak smile.

I grew up in Breckenridge, but it feels like a lifetime ago. The last time I was here, I helped pack up mom’s house and had her move in with me. Now that she’s gone, coming home just feels right.

Maybe it’s because the town held fond memories.

Who says you can’t go home again?

At least, I want to believe that to be the case.

Another glance at my phone and the position that the nanny agency suggested might be a good fit.

Businessman seeks full-time nanny to special needs girl. Includes room & board along with a modest stipend.

The gentleman at the counter grabs his drink and pauses, glancing at me once over. “Paige?”

He’s tall, handsome, and has a plethora of ink that covers his skin. He’s easy on the eyes, and my gaze falls quickly to the wedding band that he’s wearing.

Damn.

“Yes?” I don’t recognize him.

But he knows me.

“Wow, you don’t remember me. Do you?” he asks.

I smile sheepishly and tuck an errant strand of hair behind my ear. I doubt he was covered in ink the last time that I saw him.

His grin is wide and bright. He looks genuinely happy.

That’s how I want to feel. I hope living here, moving here, can bring me that same type of joy.

“Jaxson Monroe,” he says and holds out his hand.

I smile and nod, pretending to recognize him. “Right.”

I could never be an actress. In all honesty, I have no clue who he is, but he’s drop-dead gorgeous. Like he just walked right off the cover of a romance book.

“You don’t remember me,” he says.

Well, he knows who I am. My name isn’t that common. “I guess I haven’t changed that much,” I say with a laugh. “I’m betting you didn’t have those tattoos the last time we saw each other.”

Jaxson smiles warmly and laughs. He shakes his head. “I’d say not. High school was the last time we saw each other, but I’d say we went to junior high and elementary school together. I won’t take any offense. Promise.” He gives a scout’s honor gesture.

He doesn’t quite look like a boy scout, but I smile politely. I’ve plastered a grin on my face to not seem so out of sorts.


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