Page 24 of Sheltering You

“You do not like it?”

He stopped and faced her. “You’re beautiful no matter what you wear.”

Oh. The compliment warmed her despite the winter air.

“But you don’t have to wear that. You don’t have to hide or be ashamed or…cover your head like some sort of…of inferior creature. And maybe that’s not what it represents. I’m sure I just don’t understand, but…” He pushed back his hair. Unlike his brothers, he kept it on the long side, almost reaching to his shoulders. She liked it. It was soft and touchable, a little curly, a little messy. It was lighthearted and easygoing, like he was. Though the intense expression he wore now was anything but. “Do what you want. I’m not your boss.” He continued to the car and opened the passenger door.

She slid in, and while he walked around to the driver’s side, she pulled her head scarf off and shoved it back in her purse. She was checking her hair in the visor mirror when he sat beside her.

He started the car engine, then sighed. “I don’t mean to be a jerk. You can wear the scarf if you want.”

“I thought it would be good to hide my hair.”

His lips tipped up in the tiniest grin. “We’ll find a better option.”

Jasmine studied her reflection in the department store mirror. She and Derrick had considered a few disguises. This one had been his idea. Aside from her still distinctive long hair, she did look different.

She’d never worn a sweatsuit in her life, certainly not one like this. If she were a normal height, the hoodie—it had the word Georgetown imprinted across the chest—would barely reach her belly button. Fortunately, Jasmine was petite enough that even the extra-small reached the waistband of the matching navy sweatpants.

Derrick believed that she could pass for a college-aged woman. Maybe, but she felt ridiculous.

“You okay in there?” Derrick was standing outside the dressing room. “Do we need to go to the children’s section?”

She picked up the humor in his voice. “Haha.”

He chuckled as she joined him at the dressing room entrance.

He took her in, head to toe. “That’s perfect.”

“I look foolish.”

“You look like you’re nineteen. You look nothing like yourself.”

“But my hair⁠—”

“Easily solved.” He held out a baseball cap and a fabric scrunchy.

She snatched both. “You think you are very clever.”

“There’s mountains of evidence.”

“Silly man.” Shaking her head, she turned to a triple mirror, pulled her hair through the hole in the back of the cap, and then twisted it into a bun, which she secured with the hair band.

“You look like a Georgetown coed,” he said.

She met his eyes in the mirror. “What is this, a coed?”

“A female college student.”

“That is a funny name.” She angled this way and that, scrutinizing her reflection. This disguise would work.

“One more thing.” He held out a pair of sunglasses with thick black rims.

“It is cloudy.”

“I thought we could pop out the lenses. From far away, nobody’ll notice. Try ’em.”

She did, though with the dark shades, it was hard to make out anything.