Page 10 of Homebody (The Long Road Home #21)

Chapter Nine

Susan

The eagle has left the nest!

S o now they were using a secret code when they referred to Dean? These women needed a new hobby. One that didn’t involve her.

Tessa shook her head at the text on her cell phone and went back to staring at her laptop screen.

The little local library branch on Main Street in Mudville was only open limited hours and not even every day of the week.

It was a stroke of good luck that Tessa had the day off from working at Ruby’s salon on a day the library was open. She would need to use every moment of the time available to her to work on her thesis.

It was critical she take advantage of the library’s WiFi to do research online while she could.

She only had so much data on her cheap cell phone plan.

And working on a cell phone was so much harder than on her laptop.

Although, in moments of desperation she wasn’t too proud to sit on the steps outside the library to use the WiFi when the building was locked.

Maybe she should sacrifice some of her ill-gotten earnings from Susan and spring for internet in her apartment. But it was so expensive. Ridiculously so.

Sure, she had money in the bank now, but that hadn’t been the case a week ago. And this bad girl gig was a one-shot deal. She had to make that money last, which was why she had to concentrate on her graduate work now. Not on the texts that were lighting up her cell like a strobe light.

Her life list was short and precise. Finish her thesis. Get her graduate degree. Land her dream job. That was her sole focus… as soon as she figured out why the committee was blowing up her phone.

The text alerts kept pouring in. With a sigh, she picked up the cell from the library table and read the newest alerts.

Red

This early?! Where is he going?

Susan

He said errands around town.

Ruby

Tessa! Get gussied up and get out there around the town! And for all that is holy put on some makeup!

These women!

Tessa let out a breath of frustration loud enough to have the only other patron nearby glancing up from the shelf she had been perusing. The older woman shot Tessa a raised-brow glare.

Cringing, she mouthed sorry , then went back to staring at her computer.

Or at least pretending to as, behind the cover of the laptop’s screen, she silently typed in a response to the three women destined to drive her loony.

Tessa

On it! I’ll get gussied up, made up and out around town!

Yes, she was lying. But it was only half a lie. She’d left her apartment and was at the library. That counted as out and about . But the part that was a lie, her appearance, was a pretty bad one.

Tessa glanced down at her oversized State University of New York at Binghamton logo sweatshirt pulled low over yoga pants and ratty old sneakers.

Her hair, which she hadn’t taken the time to wash this morning, was pulled up on top of her head in the messiest of buns. She wasn’t wearing a speck of make-up. Not even moisturizer since she’d run out of that a while ago and had been too cheap to replace it.

Though she’d never actually used the old-timey term gussied up herself until today, she was pretty sure how she looked right now didn’t qualify.

No doubt it would totally send Ruby and Red off the deep end if they saw her. Luckily she didn’t think either of them frequented the library. And if she had to guess, this wouldn’t be a stop on Dean’s list of errands either.

She was safe.

The chime on the front door sounded, heralding another patron taking advantage of the library this morning.

When Tessa was deep into her work, the steady stream of patrons popping in to pick up or return a book or strike up a conversation with the librarian didn’t bother her. Then, she didn’t even hear the door chime or the chatter.

But today her concentration had already been broken, so she definitely heard Dean’s voice when he said to the librarian, “I’m returning this book for my mom.”

Tessa froze like a deer in headlights. Eyes wide. Afraid to move or even breathe or he might notice her.

There were shelves between them, mostly blocking his view of her and hers of him as he stood at the circulation desk.

But as he turned and moved toward the door to leave, she got a full body view.

Including that of the tight US Navy T-shirt, the fabric of which strained to contain his bulging chest muscles.

He looked as casual and as tempting as he had last night. Unfortunately, she looked nothing like she had the night before. And of course, just as she could see him, he could see her.

She saw the moment he noticed her, and the second or two it took for him to recognize her in her current state of disarray.

He smiled and changed direction, no longer heading out the exit but instead aiming toward the worktable where she sat hoping to shrink down and hide behind her laptop’s screen.

Uh, oh …

“Hey, there,” Dean said when he arrived at the table where she sat.

The table laden with handwritten notes filling not one but three different notebooks. Then there were the scribbled-on scraps of paper—she probably should be more organized—as well as her laptop and cell phone and a metal water bottle emblazoned with her college’s logo to match her sweatshirt.

All that was in addition to the fact she looked like exactly what she was. A grad student who hadn’t taken the time to shower or do laundry lately. And none of it supported her fake bad girl persona.

“Uh, hi,” she said, a bit too loudly.

She received another censure-filled glare from the woman who still hadn’t picked out a book from the stacks yet.

Dean followed her gaze toward the elderly lady. “I’m so sorry. We’re disturbing you. We’ll be quiet,” he said with complete sincerity in a lowered hush before pressing his forefinger to his lips.

Damned if the old lady didn’t blush, the color rising to her paler than pale skin that matched the white of her hair.

And while Tessa watched, fascinated, the woman giggled like a schoolgirl and waved away his concern with one hand.

“Oh, don’t you worry. You can have your conversation. And thank you for your service.”

Tessa lifted a brow. So that’s how it was. Dean could charm even cranky senior citizens with just a smile and the flex of a pec. But she couldn’t even breathe too loudly or get glared at. All righty. Good to know.

At least the conversation had drawn his attention away from the incongruous situation in which he’d found her…

for a moment. But now his attention was back on her, taking in all the stuff she’d brought with her.

She’d contained it all into a single tote bag for the walk over, but now it splayed across the large table like the debris field that remained after a plane crash.

He smiled. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

She couldn’t help the short laugh that escaped her. “Ditto.”

He took in the chaotic mess in front of her. “So, what is all this?”

How in the world was she supposed to explain it?

What reason would a bad girl who played pool nights at the local dive bar have to be in the library doing neuroscience research at ten in the morning?

Crap . Susan had hired her to be a bad girl not a nerdy one.

It’s part of the terms of my probation, might be a good excuse. Didn’t some criminals get law degrees while serving prison sentences? But that wasn’t court ordered…

Ugh! She wasn’t prepared for any of this. She didn’t even know enough about being a bad girl to lie properly.

Bye-bye, money. Susan was going to be so mad. She’d already screwed up and it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since Dean had rolled into town.

He moved closer and read the title of one of the articles she’d printed out and marked up with a highlighter.

“ Neuroplasticity and TBI-related depression .” His dark brows rose high as he looked at her, questioning. “That’s some heavy stuff you’re reading.”

She felt the blood drain from her face even as her heart thundered.

Then it hit her. The perfect lie.

She didn’t know how she thought of it, the lie that would serve perfectly for this situation while maintaining her cover. But she did and she was going to deliver it, with a smile.

“You caught me. I take on odd jobs. Through the internet. To make some extra cash. You know. Drink money.”

“And your odd job consists of researching neuroplasticity and traumatic brain injury?”

She nodded. “Mm-hm. Some college kid is paying me to write his paper. You’re not going to turn me in, are you?”

He laughed, looking equally amused and surprised.

Still smiling, he said, “No. I’m not going to turn you in. And I have to admit, I wish you’d been around to write some of my papers back when I was in school.”

She returned his smile. “Well, if you need anything written for you now, come see me. I’ll give you a good deal.”

Look at her! Flirting. Lying. Making jokes. Not embarrassing herself. It was like she was becoming the bad girl she was hired to be. Maybe she could do this after all.

The buzz of a phone had her stiffening. Was it her scary godmothers again checking on her progress with getting gussied up?

When she glanced down and saw the screen of her cell remained dark and then Dean reached into his pocket to pull out his own cell, she realized for once the text wasn’t for her.

That was a relief… for her at least. But Dean’s expression changed as he stared at his own device. A small crease formed between his dark brows. He compressed his lips tight before he shoved the phone back into his pocket.

He raised his gaze to meet hers, the kaleidoscope of colors in his eyes clear beneath the library’s lights and the morning sun streaming in the tall windows.

“So, you look really busy, but if you get all your homework done, any chance you’d like to hang out later?” he asked.

She was no longer thinking about the color of his eyes now. Had he seriously just asked her out?

Heart pounding, half in dread and half in breathless anticipation, she nodded.

Gathering up every ounce of cool she could muster she said, casually like it didn’t matter either way, “Yeah, sure. I guess I could hang.”

Holy shit. She had a date with Dean.