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He moved on to the next box, which had shoes in it. Not as nice as what he usually bought—he supposed handmade shoes from Italy weren’tde rigueurhere—but they were the next best thing. There were a pair of sandals and two pairs of casual walking shoes. In a corner, there were a couple leather belts.
Everything went together, of course. Coco would make sure of that.
“I think these will fit,” Erik said, his tone surprised.
Jamie looked up to find the kid holding a pair of jeans up to his long legs. “Coco’s good at what she does.”
“I’m missing something,” Didier said, scavenging through his box.
“What?”
“A scarf.”
“It’s summer,” Jamie said. “Men probably only wear scarves in the winter here.”
“A Frenchman is undressed unless he has a scarf.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. “Do you remember during the orange and yellow sunrise kit Barcelona wore for their away games a few years back?”
“Oui.” Didier shuddered. “C’était affreux.”
“That’s what our regular clothes are like to the people who live here in Chicago. We need uniforms that help us blend in.” He nodded at the shirt in his friend’s hand. “Look at these like they’re your new uniform.”
“The people here must be barbarians.” Didier shuddered again. Then he exclaimed in surprise, “ThisI like.” He held up a pair of black silky boxer shorts that had hearts on fire all over them.
Coco. Jamie shook his head. He could practically hear her wicked laugh.
Didier pulled out a scrap of paper and read it silently.
“What is it?” Jamie asked.
His friend stared at it as if he didn’t know what to say, and then he tucked it into his pocket. “Just a note. It’s nothing. It goes with the underwear.”
“Maybe you can wrap that around your neck instead of a scarf,” Erik suggested.
They both turned to look at the kid. “Did you just make a joke?” Jamie asked him, still in shock.
The kid grinned. “Those underpants are no joke.”
Five
He has golden hair and blue eyes that look like the summer sky.
Rachel watches him approach her, and she smiles. A breeze ruffles her dress. She looks down at it. It’s a white dress, flirty, like something Marilyn Monroe would have worn.
Strange. She doesn’t have anything like that in her closet.
Suddenly, he’s in front of her, staring at her like nothing else exists in the world. Physically he’s perfection, lean muscles and tan skin. But it’s his soul in his beautiful eyes that draws her, that attracts her most.
“You’re here,” she says to him.
“Yes.” Smiling, he leans toward her…
Rachel jolted awake with a gasp. She looked around her room, almost surprised to find herself alone. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the man from Clancy’s last night had been standing right there, the dream had been so vivid.
She could almost smell his subtle cologne all around her in bed.
He’d smelled scrumptious last night.
