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Sanchez shrugged the big shoulders, though he was only about five foot six, the shortest guard I’d seen among Peterson’s people. Maybe that’s why he’d hit the gym so hard; compensation.

His eyes were so brown they were almost black, darker even than my own. He flicked the eyes to Rowe with a frown, then said, “Not in front of—”

“The mark,” I said, “the job, what do you call the people you babysit?”

He gave me a speculative look out of those very dark eyes. “You’re from out of town.” He made it a statement.

I smiled. “You have no idea.”

He actually grinned, before Shadwell said, “If they’re changing clothes you and Price can stay outside the room.”

Sanchez shook his head, frowning again. “They aren’t changing, but our orders were explicit. Until further notice we do not lose sight of our”—he glanced at me, then finished with—“charges.” He said the last softly, as if it wasn’t quite the word he would have used if one of the “charges” hadn’t been standing in front of him.

I smiled at him, and something about the smile made him shift, or maybe the gun was digging into his side.

“Your jacket fits nice, but it’s harder to hide a shoulder holster,” he said.

Oh, he’d noticed the gun. It was my turn to shrug. “I got used to wearing it.”

Shadwell said, “She’s a federal marshal, and the girlfriend of the man.”

Sanchez’s eyes went a little wide. “He don’t act like he has a girlfriend.”

I smiled, and this time it was a happy one. “Are his clothes still on?” I asked.

Sanchez tried not to look startled, but failed a little around the edges. “Last I checked.”

I smiled wider. “Then Jason hasn’t gotten too carried away yet.”

“He take his clothes off in front of groups of women a lot?” Sanchez asked.

I nodded. “All the time,” I said. I didn’t explain what Jason’s job was; I was enjoying Sanchez’s reaction too much. It was helping me delay going into the next room, which was pretty much my goal.

“He’s a stripper,” Shadwell said, a little disgusted.

I gave him a dirty look. “I’ll thank you to keep a civil tone about my boyfriend’s job, thanks.”

Shadwell’s eyes flashed at me from behind his glasses, showing that there was a little blue to all that gray in his eyes. “No offense.”

“Sure,” I said.

“He the entertainment?” Sanchez asked.

“No,” Shadwell said, and he didn’t explain either.

Great, we were just going to play need-to-know until we were all confused.

It was Rowe who moved around so he could look me in the face. His eyes had seemed very brown, until I had Sanchez’s to look into; now they seemed pale.

“You’re delaying so you don’t have to go into the other room.”

I gave him an unfriendly look. “You don’t know me well enough to make that guess.”

“It’s not a guess,” he said.

I turned the look into a glare.

He laughed, and raised his hands ceilingward. “Hey, don’t give me that look just because I’m right.”

I shrugged, and tried not to be childish about it. I settled for sounding a little sulky, but I couldn’t help that part. “You’re smarter than you look, Rowe.”

“Now you’re just being mean,” he said.

“Accurate,” Sanchez said, with a smile.

“You said if we had a problem tonight it wouldn’t be you,” Shadwell said.

I turned the remnants of the unfriendly look on him. But explaining might keep me in this room until they stopped looking at the wedding clothes. “I am an unmarried woman who is dating a man seriously enough to drop everything and come home to meet his folks. We have no plans to marry, but if I go into the other room with the wedding dresses being oohed and aahed over, the women are going to ask about our plans. Jason and I don’t have any plans, and that will bug the women. I don’t want to mess with it.”

“Why would you come home to meet someone’s family if you have no plans to marry?” Shadwell asked.

“I’ll answer your question if you’ll answer one of mine first.”

He looked suspicious, but I think they weren’t much more eager to go into the next room than I was. The sound of giggling was being punctuated by Jason’s laugh. “You can ask.”

“What caused