Melissa straightened from putting the last plate into the dishwasher and stretched for a towel to wipe her hands. She was exhausted after twenty-four straight hours with the kids, and Rob still wasn’t home. Not to mention, she needed to make cupcakes for Max’s preschool—and somehow do it without sugar.

So the crash upstairs was not welcome.

Dropping the towel, she whisper-sprinted up to the second floor—running on tiptoe while hopping, leaping, and skipping over every toy obstacle, creaky floorboard, and rogue crayon along the way.

The light was on in Max’s room and considering that she had made this trek a half dozen times in the last hour, Melissa was out of patience.

“You need to go to sleep,” she growled, throwing open the door, her fierce Mom Glare already in place.

Except the devil child was asleep.

He’d fallen out of bed, crashed onto an entire village of Legos—scattering them to hell and back—and was dead asleep.

Her heart gave a little squeeze even as the logical part of her recognized the giant mess she’d be picking up tomorrow.

It was just that face.

A cupid’s bow of bright pink lips, slightly parted, rosy cheeks, and mussed hair. The boy was cute, and it was hard to believe he was part of her, that he’d come from her body.

She clucked her tongue at herself, knowing she was being ridiculous and romantic and Melissa-like because she’d spent the day with Kelly and her baby.

Her baby sister had a baby. And a man. And was all grown up—

Oh, God. There she went with the tears again.

Swiping a finger under her eye, Melissa navigated the minefield of toys as she made her way over to Max. She gave an internal grunt as she lifted the little—or not so little, anymore—monkey and tucked him back into bed.

One hastily constructed barrier of pillows and blankets and stuffed Paw Patrol toys later and she was heading back out of the room.

She flicked the light off, started to leave—

“Too dark, Mommy,” he murmured.

A sigh. Back on they went. “Good night, sweetheart.”

“’Night.”

This time she made it to the top of the stairs before a sound stopped her.

It wasn’t the kids. No. This was more like… buzzing?

She cocked her head and listened then made her way to her bedroom, a growing pile of toys in her arms as she went.

The door was open and she walked inside, dumping the pile on the coverlet before stopping to pinpoint the sound.

She felt her pockets for her phone. Not even two days before, she’d scoured the house for her phone, it somehow having fallen out of her pocket and ended up under the dresser. It had taken darn near fifty calls and searching the entire house before she’d found it.

Find My iPhone was all well and good, but it couldn’t tell a person which room in the house their phone was. Which, for her day-to-day exploits, it was pretty much useless.

Melissa hardly left the house at all except for kids’ activities and school pick up or drop off.

Or if Rob needed something down at the station.

And that was fine. Her place was at home. The kids needed her. Rob needed her. It was just that sometimes…

No. Don’t get sidetracked.

Her phone was in her pocket. The sound wasn’t coming from beneath the dresser.

It was coming from the bed.

She peered under and saw nothing, but it was dim enough that she was grabbing Rob’s flashlight from his nightstand when she recognized where exactly the noise was coming from.

Her hand slide between the mattress and box spring, jumping a little when the object buzzed against her fingers.

“What—?” She pulled it out, saw it was an older-looking iPhone. Why did he have—

Then Melissa saw the texts. An entire screen’s worth of them.

And her heart froze solid.

I’m heading to the hotel.

Where are you?

Don’t keep me waiting, honey.

I need you.

The question wasn’t why Rob had hidden a phone under his side of the mattress. It was why someone named Roxie was calling him honey and telling Melissa’s husband that she needed him.

She heard the garage door close, the clink of Rob’s keys on the kitchen counter. “Missy?” he called softly up the stairs.

Her voice was gone, throat tight. Her eyes burned, and still she held the phone. It wasn’t until she heard him walking down the hall to the bedroom that Melissa sprang into motion.

She shoved the phone back under the mattress and scooped up the toys.

Rob stopped short in the doorway. “Oh.” He smiled. “I called you.”

“Sorry, I was cleaning.”

He touched her cheek, slid past her. “You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s my job,” she said brightly, and if it was too bright, then what did it matter anyway?

Her husband was moving toward the bathroom, already unbuttoning his shirt. “Is there a plate for me?”

She turned, saw he’d paused, and forced a smile. “Yup. I’ll heat it up for you.”

“Thanks, love.”

“Of course.” Melissa walked out of the bedroom, but didn’t go downstairs.

Instead, she paused in the hall, silent and waiting.

And her gut tied itself into knots as it heard Rob’s footfalls across the carpet, the slide of his hand beneath the mattress as he pulled out the phone.

**If you want more Roosevelt Ranch check out (book 1 in the RR series, excerpt included on the next page). All books are standalones.