Chapter 4
T he following morning, Regan showered and dressed in black pants with an army green t-shirt. She wanted to move, if necessary. Then she pulled her long, blonde hair back into a neat braid before putting on her combat boots.
Finally dressed, she walked out into the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee from the Jura Automatic Coffee Machine. She’d seen this kind of coffee machine at her general’s home and knew it ran about three grand. But it made a dang good cup of coffee.
She admired the kitchen with its oak cabinets and granite countertops. The room was painted white and gray, with black appliances. It was modern and…crisp was the best word to describe it.
“I see you found the coffee maker. Give you any trouble?” Cole’s deep baritone voice sounded behind her.
“None.” She turned and stared.
He wore pajama bottoms and nothing else.
His stomach was chiseled with an eight-pack.
He had a sparse covering of hair on his upper chest. The man was as hot as Fort Hood, Texas, on an August day.
Unfortunately, it appeared he’d been doing headstands in his sleep.
His hair was sticking out all over the place.
“You look like you slept with a bear. What do you do when you sleep? Wrestle with something?”
He ran his hands through his hair. “Not that I know of. I tend to sleep with my head buried in my pillow and my arms over my head. It’s a habit I got into when I was in the Navy and trying to keep out the noise so I could sleep.
” He pulled a mug from the cabinet above the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup.
Then he retrieved a jug of milk from the fridge and poured a splash into the mug before returning it to the refrigerator.
“I can relate to that. I used to do the same sort of thing, but I broke myself of the habit.”
“I haven’t been able to…yet. I’m working on it. How did you do it?”
She shrugged. “Pure willpower. I forced myself to learn to sleep on my back with my arms crossed over my chest.” Regan chuckled. “I look like I should be in a coffin, not a bed. Kind of like Lily Munster from the old TV show.”
He grinned. “I watched The Munsters when I was a kid. I’ll have to give it a shot.” Cole sipped his coffee and then looked her up and down. “Is that what you intend to wear to shop for gowns?”
Regan looked down at her attire. “Yeah. What’s wrong with it?”
Shrugging, he took another sip of coffee. “I’d think you’d like something easier to get into and out of.”
She glanced at her clothes again and supposed she should, at least, take her heels.
“Fine, I’ll change.” She set her coffee on the counter and went into her bedroom, where she donned a turquoise sundress in a tiny, white-flowered print with spaghetti straps.
The dress hit her mid-calf. Then she put on her three-inch heels in black patent leather.
She supposed that, as far as fancy shoes went, they were as comfortable as any.
“When will you be ready to go dress shopping?” She picked up her cup and took a sip of her black coffee.
“I thought you’d go with my assistant, Amelia.” He sat at the oak table in the nook with his tablet and his coffee in front of him.
“Nope, you said you’d come with and either you come or I don’t go either.”
Cole took a sip of his coffee and then placed the cup on the table. “Having a bodyguard is a pain?—”
“Maybe. But the fact is, you need one. I’ve only been with you for a day, and already you’ve had one credible murder threat and been attacked in the garage. I can’t believe that the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico is the reason behind these threats. It doesn’t feel right.”
“We’ll be going to the Gulf. I want to check into the spill myself.”
She took her coffee and sat across from him. The small round table had two sides that lowered. It sat a maximum of six people but comfortably sat only four. “Are you still planning on going to the Gulf platform?”
“Yes, I have to see, firsthand, what they’ve done so far.”
“To do what?” she asked as she leaned her elbows on the table and peered over the rim of her cup.
“To find the answer to what caused the spill.”
“Don’t you have people doing that now?”
He nodded. “I do, but they aren’t making much headway. Perhaps I can light a fire under them. At least that’s my hope.”
“Maybe we don’t need to get another dress yet.” Please don’t let me need another dress yet.
Cole grinned. “You don’t get out of it that easily. I have two benefits to attend before we leave on Monday.”
“Ugh. You couldn’t just be a homebody, could you?”
Chuckling, he set his coffee mug on the table.
“Nope. I’ll be ready in ten minutes, then we can go shopping.
” He stood and then turned toward her. “This should be fun. I haven’t gone shopping for dresses since Mom took us all at once to shop for school clothes.
Megan was always a pain. Nothing was ever right. I hope you’re not that picky.”
She stood. “Trust me, I’m not.” Regan picked up her mug and his and took them both to the kitchen. She rinsed them out and placed them in the empty dishwasher. I wonder if he has a cleaning lady or company that comes in. And how often do they come?
True to his word, Cole entered the living room ten minutes after he’d left it.
“I’m driving. I don’t want to have to try and park the limo.
I don’t ever use it during the day, if I can help it.
” He finished tucking his t-shirt into his pants, then he zipped up and fastened his belt. “All right, let’s go.”
Regan grabbed her purse, walked out of the apartment first, and pressed the button to call the elevator. She stepped into the car, followed by Cole.
He pressed the button for the garage.
The trip was quick, considering they began on the second to the top floor.
The private garage was two floors below street level and required a pass-code to enter and leave.
Cole walked to a dark blue metallic Corvette. He unlocked it with the fob before she got there.
She looked around the garage before she opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.
At the same time, he climbed into the driver’s seat and buckled up.
Regan did likewise.
Once they were both belted in, he started the engine and backed out before leaving the garage behind.
“Where to first?”
She placed her hands on top of her handbag. “The Gown Boutique. If I can’t find something there, we’ll call Amelia and find out where else to go.”
He headed south to the store. When they arrived, he pulled into the first space he found. “Okay, let’s get this over with….”
“You don’t have to sound so enthusiastic about it.
It’s your fault, you know.” She followed him to the boutique.
It was in a suburb of Denver called Cherry Creek.
It was built to look like a home. A large, single story building with large picture windows on either side of the north facing front door.
The windows were tinted and had a bridal gown in one window and a fire-engine red gown in the other.
Cole held the door for her to enter.
She took him inside to look for a gown. The store specialized in formal wear, including tuxes for men.
Regan knew Cole owned at least one tuxedo.
With as many functions as he attended, he probably had an entire closet of nothing but tuxes in all colors, well, dark colors.
She couldn’t see him wearing a baby blue tuxedo. The thought made her smile.
The shop girl, a blonde wearing a chic chignon, immediately walked over. “Hello, I’m Joan. What can I help you find today?”
“I’m looking for a gown, maybe several, for a couple of fundraisers coming up.”
“I’m sure we can find you the perfect gown. Come with me, please.” She started walking to the back of the store. Joan stopped by a rack of beautiful dresses. She looked Regan up and down. “You’re a size eight, right?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“In my business, it’s mandatory to estimate a client’s size,” she turned toward Regan and lifted a brow.
“…correctly. I’ll pull a few things I think would look fabulous on you.
” She pulled four gowns off the rack. “Let’s get you a dressing room.
” Then she looked at Cole. “I have a chair for you, so she can show off our beautiful clothing.”
Outside the dressing room door was a three-way mirror and a large pedestal for her to stand on.
Regan went into the dressing room with the four dresses. Each one was more beautiful than the last.
She tried on the black one first. The dress was plain jersey-like material that clung in all the right places.
It had a slit up to the knee and a high turtleneck-like neckline, that was slit to her waist. The garment was sleeveless and came with a pair of gloves that were over the elbow.
The back had a slit from her neck to the small of her back.
It was a beautiful gown…and she hated it.
But she dutifully walked out and showed it to Cole.
“That’s nice,” was all he would say.
She stared. He seemed to be completely bored, even though he had a glass of champagne in his hand.
Next, she tried a red gown. The material sparkled with crystals all over it.
She loved the crystals. This one also fit her nicely.
The gown had spaghetti straps that tied at the top of her shoulder and a low sweetheart neckline that was reinforced so her girls would be happy.
She wasn’t one to go braless, since she had quite a bit on top, and she didn’t want anyone staring unless she was in a fight.
Then they could stare all they wanted. She liked it when her opponent was distracted. The fight was a lot easier.
She walked out and stepped in front of the mirror. She noticed the slit on the left side went up to mid-thigh and opened when she moved. She pulled the dress up and kicked high like she was aiming for a man’s chest. The dress moved easily.
Cole stood and walked to her. “You look beautiful. One down and six to go. Try on another one.”