She could tell herself as much as she wanted to that she was a researcher and that was what she did, by playing a role, being someone she wasn’t, just wasn’t the way to go.
She’d had fun, she really did. She wouldn’t regret what she’d done, even if she was a bit sad it didn’t work out the way she wanted.
That she was that horrible of a judge of character.
Live and learn, and she learned a valuable lesson.
Saturday morning she heard a knock at her door. She’d been cleaning the house and trying to keep herself busy. She had a new Jeffrey Deaver book she was dying to dive into and theminute her chores were done it was the first thing on her list to do.
Well, the second thing. She wanted chocolate chip cookies too. The last batch was actually in the oven, so once they were cooling and she got to eat half a dozen or so, then she’d get to sit down with her book.
She’d never thought she’d be one to bury herself in chocolate when she was depressed, but she’d been snacking on it daily from the vending machine.
Dropping the rag she was dusting with, she went to look through the peephole and saw the last person she ever thought she’d encounter again.
“I know you’re in there,” Dean said. “I can hear you moving by the door and it smells like baking too. I think it’s from your place.”
What the hell was she going to do?
She looked down at her shorts and old T-shirt. Her hair was in a ponytail, but she hadn’t even washed it today. When she put her hand to her face she realized her glasses were on too.
“Come on,” Dean said. “Let me in. I know I should have called you before now, but I’d like to explain. I had a little family emergency on top of work. I left my son earlier than normal to seek you out. Doesn’t that count for something?”
Grrr, that was low on his part.
He didn’t have to justify himself to her. He could have just written her off…but it seemed he didn’t. He didn’t even text, but made the extra effort to come see her.
Should she give him another chance?
The buzzer went off in the kitchen and she jumped, making her bump into the door.
Kind of giving it away that she was standing right there listening to him.
He was laughing now, she could hear him. “Get whatever you are making so it doesn’t burn. They smell really good. I’m not leaving though.”
Her head was swiveling back and forth and she finally went to take care of her cookies. Then she ran cold water on her face to clean it fast, hoping there wasn’t dirt, dust, or sweat left over from her cleaning and baking fest.
When she felt she was finally composed enough, she made her way to the door, unlocked it, and pulled it open.
Yep, there he was still looking hot as ever making her think sweat was going to form on her brow again.
Could she pull this off without her sexy attire to make her confident? That was yet to be seen.
But maybe it was a good test too.
“Look at you,” he said, walking right past her. Ditch-a-date-Molly might have stopped him in his tracks, but she was still too shocked that he’d come knocking at her door to do much more than hope she didn’t say something really stupid.
“And what is it you see?”
“Glasses that make you look sexier than ever.”
“What?” she asked. Black-rimmed glasses weren’t sexy in her eyes. Maybe if she were in a tight pencil skirt and heels with a pen by her pursed lips. Hell, she didn’t even really know the true meaning of a pencil skirt until she started researching fashion online a few weeks ago.
“Glasses are always sexy on a woman who doesn’t wear them often.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it. I don’t normally put my contacts in on the weekends. And well, I’m cleaning today, so I’m a little bit of a mess.”
“You look normal. Natural. I like seeing you this way.”
