Tess winced when she looked at the clock, and then ran down both flights of stairs, cursing Lucifer as he hissed at her and wove between her feet. When he got to the bottom he lay down right in front of the first step and stared at her, daring her to step on him.
"It'd serve you right," she said, hopping over him and heading toward the garage.
Her grandmother liked to be driven around in the black Suburban that was used for funeral processions. She said it made her look like the Secret Service. Tess grabbed her purse off the hook by the door and went into the garage to get into the Suburban. She dropped her keys, and they managed to go under the Suburban just far enough that she had to get down to look for them, so she put down her purse and bear crawled, wishing she hadn't chosen white pants for the day.
Time was her enemy. The sooner she got out of there the better chance she had at not running into Deacon. She'd delayed going back upstairs the night before, wondering what she'd do if he was still in her bathroom wearing ripped jeans and a tool belt. It was a hell of a time for her sex drive to make an appearance-right when she was making plans to change her future. The smart thing to do would be to stay far away from Deacon Tucker.
She'd never been any good at resisting things she wanted. Like when she was eight and found three kittens in a drainage ditch. She'd put them down her shirt and told her grandmother they'd followed her home. Of course, her chest and stomach had been scratched to pieces, so that story hadn't gone over so well. Or when she'd had tickets to see the Backstreet Boys in concert, but she'd been grounded. She'd decided the consequences of standing in that sea of hormones would be well worth the punishment she'd receive when she got home. She'd been right.
She had a feeling whatever happened between her and Deacon would be pretty similar-a sea of hormones followed by a great deal of time in the confessional. She was non-practicing Russian Orthodox.
She hit the button on the visor and the garage door opened. She backed out quickly and got a quick glimpse of Deacon's motorcycle and a flash of movement as he came around the side of the carriage house in badass boots, jeans that fit like a glove, a tight white T-shirt, and his helmet in his hand.
Their gazes locked and her eyes widened with what might have been panic. It was funny that she could be totally calm at the sight of a twitching dead body, but the sight of a healthy and virile man sent her into a panic. It was probably something she should ask her therapist about. Though it had been several years since she'd been to see him. You couldn't grow up with a mother like Theodora and not need a little therapy. It had taken her a lot of years to understand that Theodora did love her as much as she was capable of loving anyone.
Tess pressed down on the gas and shot backward out of the driveway, her left tire rolling over the curb, and then she threw the car in drive and burned rubber down Main Street. Her heart was pounding and there were little beads of sweat above her upper lip.
Her phone rang and Deacon's name appeared on the caller I.D. She took a deep breath and reminded herself she was an adult before answering.
"Tess Sherman," she said. She was proud of her professionalism.
"Hello, Tess Sherman," Deacon said. "You sure left in a hurry this morning."
"Busy day," she said, overly cheerful. "It'll probably be a while before I'm back. Maybe even late tonight. You probably won't see me again today."
"Uh, huh," he said. "Listen-"
"It's just I'm really busy with all this planning for my future, and what to do once I leave Last Stop. I've been sending out my résumé." Which was a lie, but she was going to make sure to do it as soon as she got back home. She was babbling. She always babbled when she was nervous.
"Listen, Tess-"
"Okay, look. I'll be honest. I'm attracted to you. And I really like kissing you. I just think the timing is all wrong. I don't even know much about you. Do you have hobbies, interests, or felony convictions? These are things people should know before they keep kissing like we've been kissing."
"I agree," he said. "But I-"
"I'm very conflicted. You're making me crazy. But I really want my bathroom finished, so maybe you could spend some time in there today. And don't forget your tool belt. Wait, forget I said that last part."
"Tess!" he finally said, the exasperation clear in his voice.
"What?"
"I just called to tell you you left your purse on top of the car. You probably want to stop and get it."