and shoes,” Montana said.
Royce grinned. “Trust Kate. You’ll need new clothes and shoes. And they won’t be cheap. Don’t worry about budget or what to buy. I have one of my agents on standby at a local high-end clothier. She’ll guide you two on selections and then arrange for your makeover.”
Montana’s brows dipped, and the SEALs around the table chuckled.
“Going preppy on us, Montana?” the man Royce had introduced as Jace Hunter asked.
“Don’t go hookin’ up with some rich hoochie mama,” the one nicknamed Rip said. “Your country needs you as a SEAL, not a bonbon-eating gigolo.”
Rip’s comment had all the guys laughing.
Kate got a strange amount of enjoyment from Montana’s discomfort. At the same time, she couldn’t wait to see the big man decked out in a suit and tie. Then again...if she thought he was ruggedly handsome in jeans, with a T-shirt stretching tautly over his massive chest...she might have palpitations over this SEAL’s magnetism in a suit or tuxedo.
Get a grip.
Kate squared her shoulders. “When do we start?”
“There’s a company car pulling up to the back of the building now.” Royce turned to the others in the room. “We could use some help clearing the building and moving to our disaster recovery site.”
Everyone rose at once, talking and moving toward the door.
Kate went through first.
Becca caught up with her. “I’ll show you the way out the back.”
Once Montana joined them, they headed along the hallway, dimly lit by emergency lighting. Becca opened a door to a stairwell and they descended to the ground level.
When Becca reached for the exit door, Montana covered her hand with his. “Let me go first.”
Becca snorted. “At this point, we’re all tactical. Male or female, we’re trained in urban warfare.”
“You and Kate might be trained in urban warfare, but I’ve survived urban warfare. And if that’s not good enough, my mama taught me to open doors for ladies.” He winked and stepped around her.
Kate’s heart skipped several beats at the sexy wink.
Becca turned to her friend with a smile. “Oh, he’s smooth, that one.”
Montana exited the building, closing the door behind him. A moment later, he opened it and held it for the women.
Becca stood back. “I’m not actually going with you. I need to help move operations to the backup location.”
Kate hugged her. “Thanks for thinking of me.”
Her friend squeezed her tightly. “I figured you were perfect for this job. Stay safe.”
“I will.” Kate released Becca.
Montana stood beside a long, black, chauffeur-driven car, holding the door for her.
Kate gave him a crooked grin.
“I told you,” he said. “My mama taught me to treat the ladies right.”
“Your mother would be proud,” she said, and slid into the backseat, scooting over far enough to allow room for Montana.
So this was it. The start of a potentially dangerous operation, with a hunk of a SEAL as her sidekick, and a chance to redeem herself if things turned out okay. She couldn’t help but cross her fingers and pray this mission went off like clockwork, they nailed the persons responsible for the hits and brought the Brantley girl home alive.
Montana hated shopping. After trying on the fourth set of trousers, the fifth button-down shirt and the third suit jacket, he’d had enough. “What’s wrong with this one?” he asked. Other than he’d probably rip the damned thing when he went after the bad guys. One right uppercut and he’d bust out the stitches.
SOS Agent Nicole Steele, who preferred to go by her nickname of Tazer, shook her head. “We need to go another size larger. You can’t move in that jacket. Good Lord, Ben, what do they feed men in Montana?” She waved to the attendant and asked him to bring another size larger. “We have a seamstress on standby to make the alterations quickly.”
“Seriously, I don’t need but one suit and a pair of casual pants.”
“Not if you want to blend in with the rich and politically elevated,” Tazer said. “Now quit bellyaching. How did you ever make it through BUD/S training?”
“I sure as hell didn’t have to wear a suit and dress shirt. I only had to worry about drowning in the sea or falling flat on my face in the mud. For that matter, it was a cakewalk compared to this.”
“Big baby. You’ll be happy when it fits properly,” Tazer said. “Hurry up. We still have to get Kate tricked out.”
Kate sat beside Tazer, her lips twitching.
Montana pointed a finger. “Don’t say a word.”
She held up her hands. “Did I?”
“No, but I can feel you want to.”
She drew a line across her lips. “My lips are sealed.” Her gray eyes flashed. “But if I were to say something, it would be along the lines of ‘think of these clothes as a uniform.’”
“Not helping,” he said, and yanked the jacket off his shoulders.
The attendant handed him another jacket and quickly stepped back, as if afraid Montana would take a swing at him.
Montana shrugged into the garment. The sooner he got through this, the better. He knew what size jeans he wore and the brand that fit best. When he needed a new pair, he walked into the store, picked them out of the stacks and headed straight for the checkout counter. The end.
As the jacket settled around his shoulders, Montana hated to admit Tazer was right. This one wasn’t nearly as constricting and actually felt good on his body.
“Much better. Now, button the jacket.” Tazer and the attendant converged on him. While Tazer tugged, the clerk pinned. When they were done, Montana was afraid to move for fear of being stuck by one of the hundreds of pins sticking out of the material. He felt like a cross between a voodoo doll and a dressmaker’s dummy.
Then they went to work on the trousers, tugging and tucking the hem and the waistband. When they were done, Montana was hot, cranky and ready to be out of the building.
“Let me have the jacket.” Tazer held out her hands.
Montana started to take it off and was jabbed by a pin. “Ouch!”
“Here, let me.” Kate stood, eased the jacket from his shoulders and handed it
