Page 80 of Forged By Sacrifice

“Watch it, Frog, I have friends in high places,” Mac’s granddad hollered back, but it was with a smile.

Tonight, there were several poker tables going with the winner from each table going on to the final game, much like a Vegas tournament. I was completely in awe of Gladys as she lost every ounce of friendly sheen she’d had all day and slowly thrashed her competitors.

I’d always considered myself to have a decent poker face, but I hadn’t played much real poker, so just like the night before, I didn’t last very long. Instead, I ended up with Tristan and Nash, watching as Darren, Stan, and the Whittaker family battled it out.

The baby was asleep again in the sling around Tristan, but she still swayed back and forth as she talked to me. “This is slightly more competitive than I expected,” she said.

“I was warned, but it still surprised me. You should have seen them fighting on the tennis court this morning.” I smiled back at her.

“How long have you and Mac been a couple?” Nash asked on my other side, sipping from a beer and eyeing me in a way that told me he was on the prowl. He was handsome—probably poster-boy-for-the-Navy-S.E.A.L.s kind of handsome—but he wasn’t appealing to me like he would have been before I’d spent weeks with Mac. Nash seemed like a man with secrets. Mac was an open book. I liked that about Mac.

“Don’t even try it, Nash. You saw how Mac looked at her,” Tristan scolded.

Nash smiled a wicked smile over the top of his beer. “He left her unguarded to compete with his family. It’s his own fault.”

“I’m right here, and Mac and I aren’t really a thing,” I said.

“Does Mac know that?” she asked, lips twitching.

I nodded. “He does.”

“I know what?” Mac asked, coming up behind us with Darren in tow.

“Your lady friend has thrown you over for me already.” Nash winked at me.

“I’m pretty sure that isn’t what I said. Did all that S.E.A.L. training pound a few brain cells out of you?” I teased, and they all laughed.

An uproar from the dining room had us all making our way in to see what had happened. Gladys was triumphantly pulling all the poker chips from the middle of the table toward her, and the rest of the table was groaning.

“Did your grandmother just beat everyone?” I asked, because even though they’d all joked about it the night before, it was an entirely different thing to witness firsthand.

Mac grinned and nodded.

Nash made his way over to Gladys, kissed her on the cheek, and said, “Where you taking me on our date, Grams?”

“This one is claimed,” Robert retorted, pulling his wife away from Nash.

“Man, all the good ones are taken.” He pretended to sulk.

“What happened to Angie?” Mac asked Darren as they both watched Nash continue to talk with Mac’s family.

“She left him. Said she couldn’t handle the time he was gone,” Darren spoke quietly.

“Were they married?” I asked and then cringed, the years of cutting hair popping in at unexpected moments, asking questions instead of staying quiet. “Sorry, not my business.”

“No,” Darren responded anyway. “But they’d been dating for about a year. It’s tough to find someone who will put up with this career like this one does.”

Darren pulled Tristan to him and kissed her forehead. And my heart tugged.

I hadn’t thought I wanted that—a relationship or a baby. But I’d felt the same pull when I’d been around Ava and Eli this summer, and now, seeing Mac here, in his comfort zone, had me aching for things I’d never imagined. I was overwhelmed with an image of Mac pulling me to him just like Darren had Tristan. I needed air. Or space. Or both.

And thankfully, I got that, because on Sunday, Mac spent almost the entire day on the court at the club with his mom. I sat with the entire Whittaker clan, cheering them on, but it at least gave me a moment to stop and process all the multi-faceted aspects of Mac that I’d encountered.

Mac and his mom ended up taking second place, and it was late by the time we adjourned back to the Whittaker house for leftovers and one last round of poker. Mac watched me over his cards, and I was almost certain he threw in his hand about the same time I lost my chips, because the rest of the family seemed to gloat at what was, for him, an early departure from the game. He brought me a piece of pie, and we watched in a peaceful silence as Gladys easily eliminated everyone once again.

When Robert and Gladys went to leave, I was surprised to find her pulling me into a tight hug and whispering, “Next time you come, I’ll tell you my secret to beating this bunch.”

Mac overheard and said with mock horror, “Grandma, you can’t tell a stranger your poker secrets. You need to pass those down to one of us.”

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