Page 2 of Between Love and Honor

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 grin tugged at the corners of Adam’s mouth.

Clearly, he no longer considered his fiancée to be the She-Devil incarnate. A staunch defender of animal rights and hater of all things gun related, Dr. Josslyn Benoit should be an unlikely match for the stoic sniper. Except she wasn’t. As much as Ben hated to admit it, the passionate zoologist was, in fact, the perfect match for his friend.

And another one bites the dust. Their third roommate, Griffin Keller, had married the First Lady’s goddaughter a few months back. Once upon a time, the three men had sworn a solemn oath to never succumb to the white picket fence in the ’burbs with a wife and two point five kids.

Somehow, Ben had become the last man standing.

“They’re waiting for you in the Woodshed,” Adam said, interrupting Ben’s thoughts.

Grabbing the laptop case at his feet, he followed Adam out the door. They strolled down the long hallway to the White House Situation Room, known among senior staff as the Woodshed.

“I’m guessing that whatever got you out of your T-shirt and into the James Bond getup tonight is above my pay grade,” Adam remarked quietly.

“More like above your bandwidth,” he teased. “This is going to come as a shock, but they want me for my mind.”

He hefted the laptop case in his hand. “And the beautiful things it creates.”

“Try not to bore them with numbers, dude,” Adam teased.

His friendship with Adam—and Griffin—dated back to their first summer as plebes at West Point over a dozen years ago. They’d all three found their way to the Secret Service after their tours of duty in the army and even shared a townhouse on Capitol Hill. But as close as the three men were, there was an entire segment of Ben’s life that he couldn’t share with anyone else. While he assumed his friends suspected there was more to Ben’s job than managing the Secret Service’s crime lab, it was better for everyone involved that his alter ego be kept exactly where Ben did much of his work, in the dark.

At the end of the hallway, two Marine guards stood at attention on either side of the entry door to the inner sanctum of the White House security. Secret Service Director Worcester was wearing out a hole in the carpet waiting for them. He waved them into the reception area.

“Glad you had evening clothes at the ready, Agent Segar,” the director said. “Tonight is crazy enough without having to find you a monkey suit. Nothing seems to be going as it should. Including the damn weather.”

Ben shared a look with Adam, hoping the director didn’t notice how he’d taped up the cuffs of Adam’s tuxedo to accommodate his shorter arms. Since he spent his days tucked away in his lab across town and not on a protective detail, there was no need for Ben to actually own a tux.

Luckily, he and Adam were both six-foot-one with a similar muscular frame. Except for their arms. Griffin and Ben teased Adam ruthlessly about his gorilla arms.

Adam slapped Ben on the back before turning to leave.

“Enjoy the party, Inspector Gadget.”

Ben leveled a withering look at his friend.

Adam shrugged. “Hey, you gotta admit the name fits you.”

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