She frowned at him. “Of course I am.”
“Look, I’m no fashion expert, but how about we get you something that matches what I’ve got?”
“It matches. Polo shirt, khakis.”
“Not for a girl. It makes you look like a sales clerk.”
“But it’s what you’re wearing.”
He couldn’t quite explain it, and he was muddling things up by trying, so he looked around, and then grabbed a sundress in light blue and brown. “How about this?”
She looked at him as if he’d grown two heads. “I don’t...wear dresses.”
He stared at her. “Ever?”
“Well, I’ve worn dresses, of course, but usually...” She looked flustered. “I don’t know, it’s just kind of...girly.”
“But you’re a girl.”
“I know that.” She glared at him.
He tried another tactic. “You said it yourself—if we talk to other people, they respond better if we’re better clothed. It’s less intimidating if we look like a couple. And we’d look more like a couple if you wear a dress rather than pants and a polo shirt.”
She knit her brows as if she wasn’t sure she quite believed him, but she took the dress and put it back. He was about to argue when she said, “It’s the wrong size.” She grabbed another one and headed to the changing rooms.
Clay blew out a breath. She was nothing like the other women he’d known. Joslyn seemed more masculine in some ways, carrying herself as if unaware of her body, and yet she was so beautiful.
She stepped out of the changing room, and despite the scowl on her face, the image of her in the sundress made his heart stop for a moment. Her collarbones rose above the modest neckline and her arms were bare, showing off her delicate bone structure. The skirt swirling above her knees floated around the curves of her figure.
“What is it?” She looked faintly alarmed.
“Nothing,” he said quickly. “You’re just...you look captivating.” The word was more romantic than he’d intended, but it just popped out, and it described exactly what she was.
Joslyn turned a deep red and looked away. It seemed as if she were struggling with some memory. Then she took a deep breath and seemed to regain her composure. “Is this fine?” Her voice was businesslike.
He couldn’t help it. He reached out to run the backs of his fingers down the side of her face.
She stilled, like a deer in the woods, her amber eyes wide. Her skin was soft, and the feel of it sent tingles up his hand, his forearm, his shoulder.
Then someone accidentally bumped into him from behind, and the moment was over.
“I’ll go pay for this.” She walked away before he could say anything.
Not that he could have said anything. That one touch had shaken him, and he wasn’t sure why or what to do about it.
Nothing. He was a man haunted by his past mistakes, and no woman would want to saddle herself with that.
They went to a shoe store to get new loafers for Clay and sandals for Joslyn, which were a far cry from the heavy Doc Martens she’d been wearing, but which matched the dress better and lengthened her legs even more. At the store, she was also able to get a new purse, as large as a tote bag.
“Do you really think we’ve got trackers on our clothes?” he asked as they walked back to the car.
“Better to be safe than sorry. We should probably throw them in the trash...” She stared at the parking stall. “Wasn’t our car here?” Instead of his gold-colored Nissan rental, a silver pickup truck stood in its spot.
“Maybe we’re on the wrong row.” He strode down a different one, but he was almost certain it was wrong. He remembered that they’d gotten out of the car and the section had led directly to the children’s clothing store at the edge of the mall.
They circled the lot, and Clay hit the button on the remote as he walked, but there was nothing. Finally they returned to the spot he’d thought he’d parked the rental.
There was no denying it. Someone had stolen his car.
* * *
“This is too coincidental.” Joslyn could only stare at the pickup truck. It must have parked in their spot right after their car had been taken.
“But what would anyone have to gain by stealing a rental car?” A muscle twitched in Clay’s jaw.
“I don’t know.”
Clay’s hands opened and closed into fists as he paced in front of the truck. The action reminded her a little of Tomas when he became angry, and she couldn’t stop the blip of panic at the sight.
God had protected her once, and she’d trusted that He’d protect her again, especially if she was careful about the situations she’d put herself into. But since coming to Phoenix and meeting Clay, the situation had gotten more and more unpredictable.
Yet a part of her seemed to sense that while Tomas had let his temper get out of control, Clay wouldn’t cross that line.
Then again, she’d been wrong about Tomas. How could she know that she wouldn’t be wrong about Clay?
“Let’s get a cab to Fiona’s workplace, since my car is there,” she said.
Clay blew out a long breath and put his hands on his hips, then his back lost that stiffness and he turned to her with an expression still frustrated, but calmer. “You’re right. I’ll call them now. And I have to call the rental company, too.”
Joslyn was surprised she hadn’t had to do more than suggest it. Tomas would have said... But Clay wasn’t Tomas, was he?
In that clothing store, the way he’d looked at her had made her feel...
She hadn’t been attracted to a man in a long time. Her last relationship had been so disastrous that she had walled off her heart and her senses. But now it seemed she was changing, and she wasn’t sure she wanted it that way. She still felt vulnerable after all she’d lost.
She closed her mind to that thought. She couldn’t think about her losses, because then the pain would grip her again and it would take too much time and effort to make it let go.
Her eyes refocused on Clay, who was on the phone with a cab company. Fiona had spoken warmly, although a bit sadly, about her brother. She could see aspects of Fiona in Clay, their friendliness to others, their protectiveness. And like Fiona, Clay made Joslyn think differently about herself.
At the clothing store, he had made her feel feminine. She was used to being around men because of her major in software engineering, but even the women she met had been tomboyish like her.
But not Fiona. She’d tried to get Joslyn out of her shell, going out more, interacting with other people more.
Clay had pulled her even further out, shattering her habit of thinking of herself as “one of the guys.” He’d had difficulty in explaining why, but he’d wanted her to wear that dress. And she didn’t understand why she’d listened to him.
After all, Tomas had done the same thing—bought her dresses, told her she was beautiful. Since that episode in her life, she’d retreated to her old fashion sense, which consisted of pants and shirts, practical garments that were similar to what the other engineers wore. So why had she listened to Clay about the sundress? Wasn’t this a bad thing?
Luckily she’d brought her side flashbang gun holster with her on this trip, so she hadn’t had to worry about a visible gun harness for her firearm. She’d only recently gotten her Concealed Carry Permit, since she started working for the O’Neill Agency.
Clay hung up. “The cab should be here in a few minutes. And the rental company said they’d file the police report since they have GPS tracking on the car.”
“Speaking of trackers, since we’re dumping our clothes, maybe we should ditch our cell phones, too, in case they managed to put a tracker in them or clone them.”
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