VANISHED, A Romantic Suspense Novel (Edgars Family Novel) by Suzanne Ferrell Page A

not what I look like.”
    “Until we have a clue as to what happened to your friend we need to not attract attention. Right now you scream Federal Agent,” he said as they headed into the store.
    He held the door for her again, hiding the smile that threatened. Every time she got too close she blushed. If getting her cooperation in hiding her identity from anyone who might be searching for her wasn’t so serious, he’d love to tease some of the starch out of her.
    “Everyone in the bar will be relaxed and casual. We want to blend in, not stick out as an easy target.”
    “You’re a little paranoid, don't you think?” She turned her back to him and marched toward the women’s section of the store.
    Not when it comes to keeping you safe .
    Growling under his breath, he counted to ten before stalking after her. In the first aisle of clothes, she stood considering a pair of dark, stiff jeans that said brand-new-just-went-shopping . She really had no clue how to fit into her environment, or relax for that matter.
    “Not those.” Before she could stop him, he snatched them out of her hand and hung them back on the rack.
    “Hey! I thought you wanted me to get jeans,” she said, getting that stubborn-Abby look in her eyes and her chin rising.
    “Yes, but we want these to look like you’ve worn them for years, not that you bought them today to look like a tourist.” Grasping her elbow, he led her farther down the aisle to the pre-washed jeans. “This is more what I was thinking.” Releasing her arm, he pulled out several pairs—one with some well-placed, frayed rips—checked the sizes and thrust them into her arms.
    “You don’t know what size I wear.”
    He sized her up from head to toe and gave her a grin. “Trust me. After last night I have a very good idea of just what size you are, sweetheart. Check the tags and see.”
    She did, muttering a curse under her breath about arrogant asses.
    Could he help enjoying the way she narrowed her eyes at him?
    Without waiting, he moved around the aisles until he came to the sports fan section. “I don’t see you as a basketball fan, so baseball or football?” When she started to answer, he held up his hand. “Wait, I know. Baseball.”
    “Why baseball? Don’t you think I can understand football or like looking at all the muscle-bound men in tight pants like other women?” Her lips had pinched tight and the urge to kiss them loose hit him.
    “No. I’m more than sure you’d love all that violence and sweat, but baseball is a thinking-person’s game. Given your love of numbers, the game’s stats alone would probably give you an orgasm.” With a grin he held up a baseball jersey proudly proclaiming love of the Cleveland Indians.
    “Screw you, Edgars,” she muttered as she grabbed the shirt and stomped away toward the changing room.
    “Take off the tags and save them. You’re wearing these out of the store.”
    Over her shoulder she flipped him the eternal symbol of brotherly love and kept walking.
    This time he laughed at her disgruntlement. In the past five years he’d forgotten what fun it was to aggravate Abby. The more she fussed about it, the stronger his urge to tease her.
    Picking out a few more nondescript items—one black sweater, a black skirt, a dark grey hoodie pullover and some sneakers—he refrained from getting her underwear. As much as he wanted to, she’d draw the line in accepting him buying her those items. He handed them to the petite little brunette attendant, asking her to deliver those to his girlfriend, then wandered over to the men’s section. Abby wasn’t the only one who wasn’t prepared for a long stay in Cleveland.
    As he chose a few items for himself, his mind kept focusing on Abby. Why was he so damn attracted to the only woman who had more prickly sides than a cactus? Had been since the first day at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center down in Glenco when she’d rolled her eyes at him. She saw right through his