Page 31 of Lock ’N’ Load

“Yeah, man.” Jaime waggled his eyebrows. “Was she, ya know…grateful?”

Out of all of them, Jaime was by far the playboy of the group, and Matt found himself unexpectedly clenching his jaw at his friend’s implication that Trista had given him gratitude sex. Forcing himself to relax, he faced another truth.

He might not be as vocal about his exploits as Jaime was, but they probably had about the same number of notches on their belts. The only difference was that Matt exercised far more discretion. Sleeping around wasn’t something he planned nor was he proud of it. With him, it just…happened. Because he never stuck around long enough to give anyone a real chance.

“Trista is…different.” He swirled the cubes of ice around in his empty mug.

“Buddy?” Eric scrunched his blond brows together. “You’re scaring me. You’ve got this weird-ass, goo-goo-eyed look on your face.”

Ignoring Eric, Matt struggled with how to describe Trista. “She’s definitely not like any other woman I’ve gone out with.”

The normally reticent Dayne chuckled. “So you have gone out with her. Told ya. Pay up.” He held out his hand to Nick, who promptly slapped a twenty into his palm.

“No, dammit.” Matt smacked his empty mug onto the bar. “I haven’t gone out with her, and I haven’t had sex with her.” Not that he hadn’t thought about it after that kiss, followed by ogling her sexy body in those skimpy clothes.

“Okay, man.” Jaime held up his hands.

“Well, lookee here.” Nick reached behind him for the next round of beers and another mug of club soda that Sheila had served up. “As if life wasn’t exciting enough around our nation’s capital these days.”

Matt accepted the mug from Nick, eager to change the line of conversation. “Where’s everyone assigned?” Each of his friends was in town working protection details at various high-profile events leading up to the presidential election in November.

“I got the White House,” Eric said just before gulping his beer. “Probably a boring detail.”

Matt nodded, thinking Eric was right. Having been in office for nearly eight years, the president and his administration were outgoing, and as such, had cut back on publicity events, save those to support his party’s next candidate.

Nick waved his finger between himself and Jaime. “We’re both at the Capitol. Anyone got Ashburn? Should be a happy occasion for him, come November. I think he’s got it in the bag.”

The other men nodded, and Matt had to agree. U.S. Senator Michael Ashburn from Nebraska was by far the favorite candidate, already tipping the polls at 60 percent. Ashburn was the first candidate in decades who seemed honest and well-intentioned. Ohio Governor Thomas Hughes, on the other hand, had baggage, including extramarital affairs and questionable fundraising tactics.

“We’ve got Hughes’s detail.” Dayne nodded to Kade. “That should be a hoot. That guy’s so far down in the polls he’ll probably hit every news show on TV to boost his ratings. We all start first thing Monday morning. What about you?”

Matt shook his head. “My office hasn’t come out with pre-election assignments yet. They should be posted in the next day or two.” He was looking forward to a change of scenery. Langley was nice, but every once in a while, he missed the action of being on the street, throwing himself out there into the mix.

No sooner had he taken another sip of his soda than an arm slipped around his waist, and he flinched. Before she uttered a single word, he knew who it was. The perfume preceded the woman, and it nauseated him.

“Hiya, baby.” Charlene slithered her arm across his back as she came to stand close, doing her best to cuddle against him as if they were a couple. Hell, they’d never been a couple, as far as he was concerned, and they never would be.

Somehow managing to extricate himself from her clutches, Matt cleared his throat, then nodded to each of his friends. “Jaime, Nick, Kade, Dayne, Eric, Markus, this is Charlene.”

“Hello, boys.”

As she held out her hand to each of his friends, giggling and batting her eyelashes the entire time, he wondered what he’d ever seen in her and instantly began comparing her to Trista.

Charlene was a model-perfect redhead, with perfect clothes, perfect jewelry and makeup, and expertly coiffed hair. Trista, on the other hand, was about six inches shorter, no jewelry, no makeup, but with a knockout body she hid behind seriously frumpy clothes.

Charlene was good in bed, but he’d quickly discovered that was the only place he enjoyed her company. It wasn’t that the woman was dumb. But she just didn’t make any attempt at a real-life, honest-to-God, back-and-forth conversation about anything that mattered in the world. He hadn’t even had sex with Trista, and probably never would, but he enjoyed her company ten times more than he did Charlene’s.

One of Charlene’s hands slid from his back to his butt while she leaned in tighter to massage his chest. Christ, he felt like he was being mauled by an octopus. Her damn hands were everywhere.

Nick pressed his lips together, clearly trying not to burst out laughing. Kade and Dayne merely smirked at him while Jaime did his best to garner Charlene’s attention and get her away from Matt. Unsuccessfully, that was. She was stuck to Matt like a giant burr no amount of shaking would kick loose.

“Uh, Charlene,” he finally said, about to do his best to politely make it clear he wasn’t interested, when the cell phone on his belt vibrated. There is a God.

He slipped the phone from its cradle. Jake Sorensen.

“Excuse me.” He looked down into Charlene’s blue eyes, then at her dark-red lips twisting into a disappointed pout. “I have to take this.” Figuring on heading outside to take the call, Matt turned to the door, only to have Charlene’s perfectly manicured fingers curve around his bicep.

“You don’t really have to go, do you, Mattie?” More pouting.