Julian shook his head, ready for his exit. At the door, right before he opened it, he turned back to Sarah. She had only ever tried to help him.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She gave her signature nod, telling him she’d let her topic go for now, but she never gave in. He’d hear about it later. He left the office through the back exit, assessing his current feelings. Sarah considered him hardheaded and assumed he didn’t listen to her, but he did. She was always good at making him aware of the meaning behind his emotions, even when he refused to let himself dwell on what they might mean.

He stepped out into the bright sun of the parking lot, drawing in a deep breath. More than anything, he just wanted to feel normal again.

Chapter 5

Beckett stepped from the shower, reaching for a towel. He ran the soft terry cloth swiftly over his wet body, drying his heated skin. Then repeated the same fast scrubbing motion over his short, wet hair, sending the strands springing every which way. With a step toward the sink, he used the towel to wipe across the condensation covering the bathroom mirror before wrapping then knotting the towel around his waist.

Between the streaks of beaded moisture on the mirror, Beckett leaned in to check the skin underneath his eyes. Circles had formed from his lack of sleep. The brutal sun and wind during his three-day intensive training session turned out to be particularly rough, leaving his cheeks raw.

Beckett reached for his shaving gear, making quick work of removing his four-day-old growth. Not that it could be called a beard as thin and spotty as his facial hair grew. His ancestry was a good mix of Native American and French Canadian. By the look of his deeply tanned skin and splotchy beard, the Native American genes had won out. But the rest of him? Well, except for the auburn highlights running through his brown hair, he’d say straight-up American mutt.

His cell phone rang before he could get the comb all the way through his hair. He tossed it aside and went for the phone charging on its docking station. His buyer had tried to call several times over the last three days to help better explain what shoes and shirts went with what slacks and suit coats. Of course, he’d had no cell signal while tucked away in the mountains.

“Hello,” he answered on the fourth ring.

“Beck?” she asked, seeming surprised that he answered. “It’s Taylor. I can’t believe it’s you. I’ve been trying to call you for days. I was afraid you didn’t like what I’d sent.”

With the phone to his ear, Beckett headed for the living room. “It’s been crazy busy for me. I had a training group that kept me out of reach. But you know I trust you to work your magic. You’ve done great so far.”

“Are you with the clothes I sent?” she asked, her worries apparently appeased as her tone changed to all business.

“I am.” Drop him in a jungle somewhere with nothing more than the clothes on his back, and he wouldn’t be as freaked out as having to navigate what went with what on those clothing racks.

He hadn’t touched a single article of clothing since they arrived. How had he gotten so unlucky to be in a year where the suit was again considered stylish? Honestly, he didn’t know that much about fashion trends; Taylor told him such.

“I’m going to put you on speaker so I can take pictures of what you say.”

Her chuckle filled the room as Beckett pushed the speaker option. He narrowed his eyes at the screen. His thumb halted in midair over the camera button. He’d been totally serious. No way would he remember all this during his upcoming weeklong trip to Coronado. Especially with the way he’d been burning the candle at both ends lately. The schedule for the next week consisted of early mornings, all day training classes, and plans to spend each night at Reservations. He saw little sleep in his near future.

Shit, had he made his reservations?

His brow crinkled as he tried to remember. Surely, he had, right?

Beckett bypassed the camera and tapped the email icon to make sure he’d gotten the confirmation message from the club. Taylor dove right into her explanation.

“I sent pictures with all the mix and match apparel. You have several different looks there. I tried to get you some distance with these wears. After meeting you and checking out the Reservations’ website, I feel sure you have some clothing that you’ll feel comfortable in and still falls within their strict dress code. Your frame is perfect. It’s a pleasure dressing you.” She only paused to take a breath before she got down to details. “Find my instructions. They’re attached to the navy Havana suit.”

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