Bulletproof Princess Read Free Page A

Mack’s opinion. He didn’t have time to cook often, and when he did, he usually kept to grilling. Bex might be a genius in the kitchen.
    “So how’s the transition back to PHX been for you?” Eli asked around a bite of fajita. He nudged a bowl of guacamole with his elbow in Mack’s direction as an offer.
    He shrugged and took the hint, spooning the sauce onto his plate. “Hot.” At Bex’s amused snort, he followed up with, “Not too bad. I missed my condo.” It was a damn shame that all he could think of to mention was his house. He needed a diversion, something, anything, to break up the monotony of going in and managing witnesses. Maybe he’d start his weekly Poker Night back up with the guys from the office.
    As if he sensed his malaise, Eli prodded, “You still moonlighting as a sniper?”
    It was fairly common knowledge that he filled in on the Marshals’ Special Operations Group occasionally when there were threats to witnesses. Though he hadn’t had a chance to go out on an op in a while, he still made it to the monthly trainings in Georgia to stay in practice just in case. “Not as often as I’d like,” he admitted as he pushed his empty plate away. He couldn’t believe he’d demolished all that food, and his stomach agreed.
    Eli poured more wine for his wife, who thanked him with a kiss on the cheek. The cuteness bordered on nauseating. “You ever think about doing that fulltime?”
    As common as the knowledge of his fluency with firearms was, the reason why wasn’t so. He’d come to the Marshals Service from the Phoenix SWAT team, the circumstances of which topped his internal list of ‘Things Never to See the Light of Day Ever Again’. “And leave the desert permanently?” he joked. “Not likely.” The humor felt forced to him, but he did his best not to let his discomfort show.
    “So how’s your new Chief working out?” Bex asked with a knowing smirk.
    Mack growled and finished his beer. Chief Deputy Austin Grambling was the gift that kept on giving. It was the worst kept secret ever that this was his third assignment in as many years since his promotion. Probably a combination of his Napoleonic personality, and a management style better befitting Idi Amin than a United States Marshal, but he couldn’t be sure. “He’s… different.” The answer garnered him a couple sympathetic chuckles. His only hope was that this, too, would be a temporary tenure for the man, or else Mack might really look into doing something else with his time. He was saved from having to continue by his phone ringing in his pants.
    Bex burst out laughing at his ringer. “A boy band?” She sounded like the words actually hurt her tongue to say.
    The boy band in question, singing about some girl they met after school, was the harbinger of his boss, who was approximately the same age as the lead singer and just as inherently annoying. “It’s Grambling,” he grumbled by way of explanation. Though he was technically not on duty since he’d completed his witness transfer, he still felt a bit of obligation to answer the phone since he was still in town, as much as he’d have preferred letting it go to voicemail.
    Bex rose and grabbed his empty beer bottle on her way to the kitchen. “Tell him you’re busy getting trashed, then he’ll have to leave you alone.” She returned a moment later with a refill, just as the phone fell quiet.
    When it rang again a minute later, Mack figured the decision had been made for him. “Jefferson.”
    “Are you still in town?” The younger man sounded harried and pressed for time.
    “Why?” As much as Mack normally loathed answering a question with a question, he disliked disclosing that kind of information even more, especially to his boss. His off duty time was his time, dammit.
    “I need you at the Bellagio, as soon as you can get there.” No please , no do me a favor , nothing.
    “You do know I’m off duty, right?” He knew if he let Grambling encroach on