Between Love and Honor (Men of the Secret Service #3) - Tracy Solheim Page 0,1
face her.
The Secret Service lounge, located directly below the Oval Office on the ground floor of the White House, was a frenzy of activity. Agents filled the room changing into either tuxedoes or their battle dress uniforms—or BDUs—depending on their assignment for the evening’s state dinner. The event was the finale to the World Economic Summit. With heads of state from twenty different countries attending—not all of whom were on solid diplomatic terms with the US—tensions were running high among the men and women charged with protecting the president of the United States and his family.
“It’s like tying your shoes,” Christine explained.
Of course, the pesky fabric slid easily through her fingers forming a perfect bow on her first attempt.
“How did you get to be such an expert at bow ties?” Ben asked.
A wistful look settled into Christine’s eyes before disappearing behind the professional mask she wore. “My sister has three kids under the age of ten. Which also means her patience isn’t what it used to be.” She smiled as she straightened Ben’s tie. “It fell to me to teach them all how to tie their shoes.”
Time spent with loved ones was fleeting for most agents within the president’s protective detail. Many families didn’t survive the strain. Ben had long ago resolved that a wife and kids were not conducive to a life in law enforcement. He knew firsthand what that type of career could do to a family and he never regretted giving up one for the other. Good friends, a steady diet of willing women to share his bed, and his role as the Mariner, the Secret Service’s top cyber asset, gave him all the satisfaction in life he needed.
It appeared Christine might be having regrets of her own, however. Not another one. There seemed to be an outbreak of conscious coupling among his friends lately. He shook his head in bewilderment.
“You’ve been in your ‘la-bore-atory’ too long, Segar,” Lou Caracas called from across the room where he was strapping his service revolver to the leg holster on his BDU. The agent was subbing as a member of the Secret Service’s Counter Assault Tactical (CAT) team tonight. “Since when do they invite the geek squad to a state dinner, anyway?”
“Since the Secretary of Homeland Security issued orders for Segar to be here,” a voice boomed behind them.
Agent Adam Lockett, commander of the CAT team stood in the doorway looking like the badass sharpshooter he was. A hush fell over the room with Adam’s announcement. Ben would have rather his buddy keep that little bit of intel to himself. The fewer people who knew of his clandestine work for the Secretary of Homeland, the better.
“Just remember to keep your pretty clothes and your tech toys out of the way so the real muscle can do its job tonight, Inspector Gadget,” Caracas said with a snicker before picking up his helmet and heading out the door.
“That guy is a hothead,” Christine murmured as she pinned the insignia designating her as a member of the Secret Service into the lapel of her sequined pantsuit. The pin was meant to distinguish her from the actual dinner guests—assuming the sensible shoes she wore wouldn’t give her away first. “I’m glad Adam will have him dodging raindrops up on the roof all night. I hope it pours.”
“Bite your tongue,” Adam admonished their friend when he joined them. “It’s bad enough my team and I have to spend the evening as human lightning rods. This BDU is heavy as shit when it’s wet.”
Christine laughed. “I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to stay dry. Besides, given how much time you spend canoodling with a certain member of the First Family, I’m sure you already know the best places to hide out in this building.” She patted Adam on the shoulder. “See you upstairs, Ben.”
“Christine has a point,” Ben added. “But instead of hiding out, maybe you should get your fiancée to intervene on your behalf.” His buddy had done the unthinkable and fallen in love. In fact, he was set to marry the First Lady’s younger sister in a few weeks. “You could escort Josslyn to the dinner and let that smart-ass get drenched up to his balls instead.”
“No can do.” Adam shook his head. “Joss hates these kinds of events. She’s holed up in her office at the zoo working on an op-ed opposing big trophy hunting. The piece will probably have the president’s chief of staff spewing his morning coffee tomorrow.” A proud