Page 58 of Once a Killer

“Pockets wouldn’t work,” she muttered. “Gun would be too obvious.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “You really don’t hate the idea?”

“Of course not.” He’d relish spending time with Bree away from the lab and his apartment. He’d enjoy spending time with her no matter what they were doing.

Huh. He squirmed a little in his seat. Any other woman who’d wanted him to go shopping with her? He’d run, screaming, the other way.

Bree? He was looking forward to it.

Shoving the flicker of panic away, he cleared his throat. “Saturday work for you?”

She glanced at him and sighed. “Your schedule is my schedule, Jameson. So if it works for you, I’m good with it.”

* * *

He was re-thinking his enthusiasm three days later, when he sat in the world’s most uncomfortable chair and watched Bree walk into the dressing room area of the upscale store with another armload of dresses. She’d let the saleswoman pick out the first batch, and she’d rejected all of them.

She’d picked out this second batch herself.

He heard rustling in the fitting room as she took off her clothes. Then the hanger banged into the wall as she removed the dress. He swallowed when it slid over her body with a faint whisper of cloth over skin. Then he heard nothing.

What was she doing?

The rustling began again, and a few minutes later she emerged from the dressing room area. One dark blue dress hung over her left arm. She carried several more dresses in her right hand.

“I’m done,” she said as she veered toward him. She held up the blue dress. “Found one.”

“You didn’t take long in there.”

“Nope. When you find the one, you know it.”

Jameson froze as he studied her.When you find the one, you know it. That was true of more than dresses.

“You didn’t show it to me,” he said after a long moment.

“Why would I?” She studied him, her gaze puzzled. “You’ll see it when I wear it to the reception.”

“I don’t get a vote?”

She rolled her eyes and held the dress against her body. “I pick out my own clothes, Jameson.”

“You don’t want a second opinion?”

“I’m happy with my choice,” she said.

He’d had a sexy little scenario all imagined where she’d come out of the dressing room and model her dresses for him, one by one. He’d smooth the fabric over her hips and watch the way the muscles in her calf flexed when she walked.

Yeah, no. Nice fantasy, but it was never going to happen with Bree.

“Okay, then, if you’re happy with your choice, let’s go buy it.”

She clutched the dress close. “I’ll go buy it. You’ll come with me, but you don’t pull out your wallet.”

“Hell, no,” he said immediately. “This is a business function. You’re my bodyguard at this reception. You don’t have a choice about going or not. You have to be there. I’ll pay for any clothes you need to wear to the reception.”

She frowned at him, and he could read her mind. There had to be a flaw in his logic, but she couldn’t pin it down. Then he stood up and whisked the dress off her arm. Headed toward the register, and she hurried to catch up to him.

“You can’t buy clothes for me,” she said.

“Why not? It’s a work expense. I’ll either pay for it now, or I’ll pay Mel and tell her to give the money to you. Easier to cut out the middle woman. No one expects you to buy an expensive dress to go to an event where you’ll be working.”

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