Losing Control - By Robyn Grady Page 0,22

Instead he was standing here, waiting, waiting. He must look like an overdressed idiot. He knew he felt like one.

Then a silver service cab swerved up. She got out. And Cole's chest expanded on a deep breath.

As usual, Taryn Quinn was all grace. Her evening gown - a silver sequined sheath - fit her body like a high-fashion glove. The neckline was a modest scoop, but as she turned to set her stilettos correctly on the pavement, he saw that the back was cut low enough to hover on the edge of X-rated. She spotted him standing alone at the entrance of the inner-city five-star establishment and sent a little wave. He waved back.

Her hair always looked great...a long bouncy blond river. But tonight, beneath the city lights, it surrounded her face like a luxurious halo. And those lips, my God... Even from a distance, they looked tasty.

Cole met her at the bottom of the steps.

"Nice tux," she said.

"What? This old thing?"

She laughed and something new lifted up inside of him. "You said it was black tie. I took a chance and believed you."

"That's a stunning gown."

"Thank you."

"You look beautiful." Incredible.

Her brow pinched as if she wondered if he were only teasing, before her easy smile shone again. "Sorry I kept you waiting. The cab took forever."

He threaded his arm through hers. "Absolutely no need to apologize."

Inside the ballroom, soft music played while guests churned around, nibbling salmon and caviar canapes while reminiscing. Both he and Taryn accepted chilled flutes from a passing waiter. As she sipped, Cole noticed the flute hovered longer than necessary, covering her smile. Grinning, too, he let his gaze sweep over the glittering room.

"What's funny?"

"It's just since you mentioned the navy, I had visions of scores of officers dressed up in crisp white suits and matching gloves."

"You're partial to a man in uniform?"

Her eyes glistened beneath the lights. "Why? Do you have one hanging at the back of your wardrobe?"

"Hate to admit it but, as a cadet, I looked more like Popeye in my sailor's suit."

Her head went back and her hair bounced around her shoulders as she laughed. "Popeye? Well, at least you're honest. Was there a Brutus in your unit of cadets?"

"Sure. Big, burly, shaving daily by age ten. This guy's better looking than his cartoon counterpart, though."

Her gaze veered to the left. "Would that be him?"

Angling around, he spotted Brandon winding through the crowd. Cole grinned. "Guess the shoulders gave it away."

Brandon stopped before them, tipping his head at Taryn as he introduced himself. "And you must be the mysterious Taryn Quinn."

"Mysterious?" She smiled. "Maybe more your everyday working-class girl."

Brandon's expression said plainly not. And he was right. Taryn was a beauty wearing office garb. But in this glittering silver number, she could put a supermodel out of a job. Her aura was magnetic, her laugh, infectious. He couldn't remember feeling this proud standing beside a date in his life. Those old feelings for Meredith McReedy were left for dead in the shade.

Brandon must have been thinking the same. He was searching the room. When he beckoned someone over, Cole recognized the woman. Barely.

Meredith McReedy bounced straight up, then, on her toes, planted a smacking kiss on Cole's chin. Her lips were so rouged, he just knew she'd left a big red dot.

"Cole, we missed you at the last reunion." Meredith smiled at Taryn, an honest expression, which was nice given the difference in their appearance. While Taryn came off statuesque, poised and glamorous, Cole wasn't certain what had happened to his erstwhile love. Meredith filled them in.

"I'm married now. Three children under four. We're the happiest little family." Meredith spoke directly to Taryn. "You must be Cole's wife."

"Not wife," Cole cut in.

Meredith gave his lapel a playful slap. "You can't hide from responsibility forever."

Cole coughed. Him hiding from responsibility. That was a new one.

With a "We'll catch up later," Meredith disappeared into the tide.

Grinning, Brandon raised his beer. "Well, she looks happy."

Cole narrowed his eyes at his friend. If Brandon was thinking about blabbing, Taryn didn't need to know the background.

"Are you in the forces?" Taryn asked Brandon as the music changed and more couples headed for the dance floor.

"I own a security firm. I do some private investigating from time to time."

"Must be exciting."

"It can be," Brandon said, "when you're on to something with substance."

Her brow wrinkled. "What do you mean?"

"Sometimes a client gets it into his head to chase dead ends."

"No stone left unturned," Cole reasoned, then saw Taryn