Free Baggage Claim (Tru Exceptions - Christian Romantic Suspense Book 1) by Amanda Tru

shop.'
    Coming to her senses, Rachel stopped gawking and took off after Dawson.
    "Dawson…? Dawson!" She followed on his heels, urgently trying to get his attention, to ask him why they were here. What could he possibly need right now from a shop like this?
    She felt her face blushing. Being in a shop like this made her feel very naive and embarrassed. Part of her didn't want to look around, inspect, or even know what 'novelties' the shop boasted. But, despite the strong urge to put her hands over her eyes, she also had an insane curiosity. She was observant enough to realize the shop's merchandise wasn't all of the 'adult' variety. Souvenirs, apparel, and other items catering to tourists were also displayed.
    Finally, Dawson turned to Rachel and pushed a large pile of clothes and other items into her arms.
    "There's a changing room back there," he said, pointing to the rear of the store. "Go change into these clothes."
    The item on the top of the pile was a red wig.
    A disguise! Everything suddenly clicked together and made sense. That's how they were going to get to the dock without being recognized.
    Dawson didn't wait for Rachel's response, but immediately set off searching for what Rachel assumed would be his own disguise.
    She obediently found the little closet they called the fitting room and drew the curtain behind her. It would be so nice to have clothes on that didn't reek of smoke! She only wished she could also get a shower!
    She quickly removed her smoke saturated shirt and pulled on the shirt Dawson had given her.
    That was strange. It was a classic white 'I Love New York' shirt, but Dawson must have grabbed the wrong size. It was really short and tight, hitting her mid-torso.
    Wondering if Dawson's other picks were equally small, she looked through the rest of the pile.
    Skirt: short, black, tiny. Though slender, Rachel was tall. She wasn't sure that skirt would fully cover her rear-end.
    Black fishnet stockings. Did anyone nowadays wear those things outside of a Broadway musical?
    Black boots: ridiculously high-heeled and tall. They looked like the tops would extend at least to her knees.
    And, of course, the wig: bright red with long, wavy tresses.
     As she shook out the wig, a makeup kit fell to the floor. The colors were very bold and bright. Normally, she would never willingly use these colors unless she had to dress as a clown for a little kid's birthday.
    With everything spread on the floor around her, the light bulb went off in her head, and she realized what it all meant. Shock was quickly followed by red hot anger. Dawson expected her to dress as a hooker.

Chapter 8
     
    After sitting on the floor of the fitting room and fuming for several minutes, Rachel's reason prevailed. She jerked on the offensive clothes and slathered on the makeup. As much as she would like to, she couldn't even give Dawson a much deserved tongue-lashing right now. The top priority was getting to the dock safely so they could get the bomb out of their possession and off the island of Manhattan. If she had to dress like a hooker to get that done, she would sacrifice her pride and do it with gusto. She wasn't going to waste precious time arguing with Dawson over his taste in disguises. She may not have a choice at the moment, but that in no way meant the man would escape completely unscathed. She would just have to postpone his punishment.
    Clothes on, makeup applied, Rachel finally turned to the wig. Her own blond hair now hung in tangles and mats instead of its usual waves. Gathering it together and fastening it with a few pins included with the wig, she then secured the red mane.
    Her ensemble complete, Rachel looked at herself in the mirror and grimaced. Her makeup was heavy, but not grotesque. The bright red lipstick made her pale skin appear almost porcelain, and the red wig stood out like fire. The tight clothes hugged her body, accentuating her long legs and curvy figure.
    Rachel felt very self-conscious, especially