Page 37 of Taken With Trouble

“That’s debatable.” His lips curve. “Apparently, I brought one home with me. Good thing she sucks at her job.”

I clench my fists. “You dragged me into this, now I’m here. Let’s do it right.” I’m one second from stomping my foot like a child. Why must he be so miserable?

“Alright, since you’re in the spirit of teamwork…?” He pauses, looking up for confirmation.

“I am,” I say through clenched teeth.

“You’ll do as I say?”

I bite my bottom lip so hard I draw blood. “Yes.”

He stands, stepping into my space. His hair is mussed from sleep, which is kind of adora—

No. No thoughts like that.

“And what if danger should find us on this journey,” Liam says, his voice dropping low and suggestive, “and the only way to remain safe is to make out behind a statue?”

“If—” I choke on the word, darting a glance at his lips trying but failing to find them off-putting. Instead, blood floods my cheeks and I look away. “For the sake of context, ifthatis the absolute last-case scenario, and all necessary criteria has been met… then I suppose it would be appropriate for the sake of safety. But mouths must remain closed at all times.”

His blue eyes light so brilliantly, one could be intoxicated just by the sight. “Agent Cruz, I do believe we are getting somewhere. Now one last question. How do you feel about dresses?”

“I will maim you.”

“Looking forward to it. But right now we’re late for your appointment.”

Chapter 14

Liam

I thought I’d seenit all, but it doesn’t get better than this: Special Agent Serena Cruz in a dress shop.

I made an appointment for Serena at a dress store. It’s not the most expensive, but it also isn’t cheap. I didn’t want to drawtoomuch attention, just in case the FBI is on our trail since Serena has been off grid for a few days. But I’m not too worried. If they’re looking for her, then right about now they should be somewhere in Florida, thanks to my excellent planning.

We are definitely drawing attention in the dress store, though. Serena is absolutely terrified of all dresses, dodging the tulle and silk like she’ll get burned. She’s like a giant walking through a tiny teacup store, trying to avoid touching anything for fear of breaking it or worse, owning it.

“No,” Serena says when we are ushered to a private room. “I can’t do this. Iwon’tdo this.”

I choose the most comfortable chair and sink into it. “Try on a dress?”

“Weara dress. I’d rather be vegan.”

I raise my brows. “You’d never survive as a vegan. What’s wrong with dresses?”

“Everything!” she hisses. “I can’t run in them, jump over fences, or fight. And where am I supposed to hide my gun?”

I allow my imagination to conjure up an image of Cruz doing all those things in a dress. And it’s safe to say I like it. “I’ve already figured out the gun part,” I say. “But you can’t keep walking around Europe in those ripped jeans and not draw attention.” I should know. My attention has been on little else for the last forty-eight hours.

A lady appears in the doorway, carrying at least ten dresses. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Serena shudder. I stand, grabbing her around the waist and tugging her into me before she can bolt.

“Hello, I’m Abigail, and I’ll be assisting you today,” the woman says with a smile.

NowI’mnervous. “Just you?”

Abigail nods.

We might need ten more people to get Cruz in a dress.

“Come,” Abigail says to Serena in a perfectly commanding voice.

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