““I was just leaving,” he said. “So I gathered.” Her gaze fell on the jacket he’d thrown casually over his shoulder and held with one hand. “You must’ve been roasting in that thing.” “Occupational hazard.” She looked confused. “I’m sorry?” “It’s considered poor form for an FBI agent to have his gun exposed in public,” he explained. “Oh.” Her eyes traveled down to his right hip, where he carried his Glock. “You must have to get creative when wearing a swimsuit.” With anyone else, Vaughn would’ve said that was a joke. But with Sidney, he couldn’t quite tell. ””
