Page 3 of Wild Mustang Security Firm

Mandy stepped into his personal space.

“Oh, but I can. Fact is, I just did. They really should teach you in law school, not to play against people with a custom-made cue.” She laughed derisively. “I wish all my marks were as pathetic as you.” She picked up the cash on the lip of the tableand counted out fifteen hundred dollars, tossing the remainder on the table before turning to Izzy. “Do me a favor and split that with everyone who had to deal with this asshole, will you?”

Chaz was fuming and made a grab for the remaining money sitting on the table. Before he could wrap his fingers around it, Mandy brought her pool cue down hard to rap his knuckles with a resounding crack. Chaz jerked his hand back.

“That’s my money,” he seethed.

“Not anymore,” she said blithely, but with steel in her tone. “It was your money, then you thought you’d hustle one of the local country girls. Hot news flash for you, junior, that’s a sucker play when I’m the girl in question. I hope you lawyer better than you play pool because you suck. You lost, and I decided to compensate the wait staff, who’ve had to put up with you and your grubby hands and piss poor attitude. Let me give you a little piece of advice, in case you ever have the misfortune to cross my path again… you play grab-ass with me, and I’ll shove this pool cue so far up your ass, you’ll think twice before ever doing it again… with any woman. Now, fuck off.”

She turned her back and went to the case made for her custom stick. She broke down the cue, wiped it off, and put it away, closing the lid before she picked up her ale.

“Listen, you,” Chaz started but was cut short.

Mandy turned to see a tall drink of water holding Chaz up, so his toes barely touched the ground. Mandy recognized him as the man who’d paid for her drink.

Chaz struggled but couldn’t get away from the heavily muscled man’s grip. Mandy was about to tell him Chaz was making a fist.

“You don’t want to do that, son,” he drawled. “I heard the lady say you were a lawyer. If that’s true, I won’t need to explain to you the ramifications of assaulting a federal officer.”

All the fight when out of Chaz.

“Now,” continued the hunky guy, who still dangled Chaz from his strong grip, “you apologize to the lady for being an asshole and go sleep it off. If I hear of anything untoward happening to her or that you made any kind of threat, you’ll answer to me.”

“That wouldn’t be a federal crime,” Chaz whined.

“You’re right, and I’m not inclined to respond to your poor sportsman-like behavior in my official capacity as a US Marshall. In fact, if you’d like to step outside, I’d be happy to hand the bartender my gun and credentials, and we can settle this here and now, without getting blood all over Izzy’s floor.”

Chaz’s buddies intervened and assured the lawman, still holding their friend by the collar of his shirt, Chaz had just had too much to drink, and they’d make sure he got home and didn’t cause any more trouble. Chaz mumbled his apology to Mandy while keeping his eye on the federal officer.

“I don’t think he’ll give you any more trouble, but if he does,”—the man handed her his card—“you give me a call. My cell number is on the back.”

Mandy looked down at the card. “Thanks, Marshal Hampton.”

“John, please.”

“Thanks for the ale.” She stuck her hand out. “I’m Mandy. I’d ask you to join me while I finish it, but I’d like to go get this cash in my ATM before it gets too much darker.”

He smiled, and she liked the way it changed the contours of his face.

“I tell you what,” he offered, “why don’t we have that drink, and after, I’ll escort you to the ATM myself.”

“Sounds good.”

“Want to stay in here or go sit in the restaurant? My friend and I just finished dinner, and he’s headed home. I’d be glad to buy you something to go with the ale.”

“No thanks, I ate earlier.”

“Hey, John,” Izzy called. “She’s a sucker for my tres leches cake. Why don’t you buy her dessert?”

“How about a piece of Izzy’s specialty?” John grinned at Mandy. “Best in the whole southwest.”

“Or we could just apply it directly to my hips and ass, which is where it would end up, Iz,” Mandy called to the owner before turning back to John. She was surprised to see him openly appraising her figure. It made her a bit self-conscious as she’d gained a few pounds in the past year and wasn’t feeling as confident about her curves as she normally did.

“I think your figure looks just fine, but once we get to know each other, I’d be happy to slather anything you like all over it.”

“And are we going to get to know each other, John?”

“I sure hope so. Now, are you going to let me buy you that tres leches cake?”

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