Page 24 of The Female Warrior & The Charming Gentleman

Jarom shook out his arm and laughed. She was a delightful challenge and so much more. He hurried to the shower, rushing through it but careful to make sure he usedthe body wash. He might not smell like himself, but he could at least not smell like perspiration.

He dried off and brushed his hair and teeth. With no hair products, he went for the mussed look, hoping Autumn liked that as well as his usual suave style. He applied deodorant, was grateful his esthetician and hairstylist Marlene had come by a couple days ago to give him a facial, shave his neck, shape his eyebrows, and trim his hair, beard, and mustache. She would be aghast at him not using the products she insisted on. He might not thrive, but he’d survive.

Jogging into the closet, he frowned as he opened a pair of thankfully new boxers, pulled them on, and perused the rest of the selection. Had Easton picked such clothing to poke fun at him? He’d never been tempted by a cowboy phase like some of his friends had done in high school or college to woo the ladies or annoy their parents. Jarom always got plenty of female attention and simply appreciated the way high-quality fashion fit and felt. Especially the clothing he’d personally designed. There was nothing wrong with that. Fashion was a significant but not essential part of his life.

He sorted through the stack of Ariat and Wrangler jeans. He knew the western-type brands. They were a thick weave, a decent denim blend that would last a long time and keep the cold out. He rarely wore jeans, but he did own a few pairs of Amiri and the new Japanese jeans that were all the rave.

Picking a pair of dark-wash Ariat jeans, he slid into them. They fit tighter than the slacks he was used to and were not comfortable and soft like his own slacks, dress pants, and joggers. He pulled on a light blue Carhartt T-shirt. It was a thick cotton pile and hung well on his chest and arms.

Tugging some thick socks on, he was tempted to put his boatshoes back on but thought, what the heck, when in Rome. He sorted through the boots and pulled on a nice pair of brown leather Ariats. He walked back into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. All he was missing was the hat and belt buckle. Eighty percent of the world, and even some good friends, wouldn’t recognize him right now. If he put a hat on, it would probably only be his own mother who could pick him out of a crowd of two.

He remembered, too late, that he’d been in a competition to shower and get ready quicker than Autumn. Shoot. He hurried out of the bathroom, taking long strides through the bedroom and flinging the door open.

Autumn was waiting in the hallway. She looked gorgeous as ever wearing a white sweatshirt and pink joggers, her dark hair wet and only mascara and lip gloss on to enhance her beauty. He was accustomed to most women wearing a thick barrier of beauty products. He savored Autumn’s gorgeous simplicity.

“Ha! I beat …” Her gaze trailed over him, and she simply stared.

Jarom didn’t know if she was going to laugh at him or tell him he looked good. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt self-conscious. He set the trends and usually impressed even the most critical in the fashion world. Right now … He shifted his weight from boot to boot, surprised that they were comfortable, and said, “I know. The look is all wrong. It was the best option I had.” He looked away.

A few beats passed.

“Jarom.”

His gaze swung back to her. Her golden eyes wereliquid pools.

“Yes?”

“It’s a very nice look on you. I mean, I prefer the Love designer suits, but this is nothing to complain about.”

“Oh.” He relaxed. “Thank you. I wasn’t certain … I prefer my own designs as well.” He raised his hands. “Would you believe I’ve never lacked confidence in my apparel before?”

She chuckled at that. “I would believe that. You’re a fashionista.”

Their gazes tangled and the compliments she’d given him were an understatement to the appreciation in her eyes.

“Shall we go sort through emails?” she asked.

“What a thrilling offer, love. I’ll take it.”

She beamed at him. Every look, every word seemed meaningful with her. Jarom called everyone from darling little girls at church to gorgeous dates on Friday night to his grandmother and her sassy group of friends ‘love’. Even more fun that it was his last name. It didn’t mean much to him. With Autumn, he wanted the word to be meaningful. He wanted her to know she could be his love, that she could be his everything.

They walked down the short hall and the steps. Jared was in the security office. He gave Jarom a once over but didn’t say anything about the clothing. He readily agreed to let them use the office computer and directed them into the day-lit room adjacent to the security center and typed in the password. Within a few moments, Jarom had transferred dozens of text messages and hundreds of emails from Autumn’s phone. Usually he’d make a phone call in response to most emails. He preferred the more personal form of communication, but emailing would be quicker and almost as effective.

“Pardon me for a few moments, love,” he said to Autumn, sitting at the desk with the computer.

“Looks like more than a few minutes,” she said. There was a bite to her voice.

He glanced at her. “Is everything all right?”

“Perfect.”

He waited, studying her. Usually he didn’t let work emails sit, but this was an extreme situation and Autumn’s concerns took precedence for him.

“How do you have dozens of texts and missed phone calls from women overnight?” She rolled her eyes and folded her arms as if she didn’t care. It was more than obvious she did.

Jarom withheld any impulse to smile or tease. He stood. He had her by almost a foot. He bent down and cupped her smooth cheek. Would she punch him? He didn’t let himself look for the sucker punch, simply focused on her golden eyes.

“Love, I swear to you that those women are all nice ladies, interesting, beautiful …”

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