10
When Boone stepped back into the suite a few minutes later, I gasped. He had shaved off his mustache, let his long hair hang to his shoulders, and put on a pair of shorts with tennis shoes and a t-shirt. He looked like he might be ready to throw ultimate Frisbee down at the park.
“Wow,” I whispered when he walked toward me. “Talk about a transformation.”
“Believe it or not, this is more or less my preferred look.” He touched his upper lip. “The mustache is an affectation for my role as clandestine operative.” He lowered his voice as he said those last two words. “But don’t tell anyone. It’ll be our secret.”
I smiled. I liked the idea of having secrets with him. “Well, I like either look on you, but this one is more my speed.”
He laughed. “If I said I preferred your usual jeans and
