Page 12 of So Wicked

“I’ve always been a maverick. You know that.”

He laughed. “If you say so.”

He flipped the steaks, then asked, “So do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

He laughed again. “That’s a no. All right, we don’t have to talk. You want your steak rare or burnt into an ungodly unamerican charcoal briquette that I wouldn’t feed to my enemy’s dog?”

She chuckled. “Rare is fine, First Sergeant.”

“Rare is goddamned beautiful and the only proper way to eat steak,” Jacob corrected.

He pulled the steaks off of the griddle and set two of them on plates. The third he left on a cool griddle to rest. For Turk, Faith guessed.

“Here anything from Michael?” he asked as he ladled mashed potatoes next to each steak.

She sighed. “No, nothing. Well, yes, but nothing about the case. Just small talk.”

“Got it. What about your new ASAC? Have you talked to her?”

“Not since I left, no.”

“You should. The squeaky wheel gets the grease.”

She sat across from him at the table. “Yeah, the FBI worksverydifferently.”

He grimaced. “Sounds horrible.”

“You get used to it. They don’t like when people make waves, but they also let people make their own tactical decisions. To a point, anyway.”

“Well, in that case, it sounds beautiful.”

“It has its moments.”

The two fell quiet and focused on dinner. Turk came in halfway through and immediately devoured the steak Jacob had made for him.

“Damn,” Jacob said, watching the dog eat with an impressed look on his face. “Kid can put it away.”

“Yes, he definitely likes eating.”

“As do I, Staff Sergeant. As do I.” He finished his steak, belched loudly, and capped the statement off with, “God bless America.”

Faith grimaced. “It’s a wonder you’ve never married, First Sergeant.”

“I am happily single, Bold. The last thing I want to do after sacrificing the best years of my life in service to my country is deal with some woman nagging me all day long.”

“Well, thank you for enduring the pain of having a woman live with you for a little while.”

“You’re not a woman. You’re a Marine.”

Faith laughed. “You know, if you told that to anyone who wasn’t a Marine, they’d think you were a misogynistic son of a bitch.”

“And they’d be half right. But in any case, you’re not here for good, and while I am easily the prettiest son of a bitch you’ll ever see, I doubt you’re looking to marry me anytime soon.”

She chuckled. “No, sadly I am not.”

“Good. Then I don’t have to have an awkward talk about how I love you like a friend only.”

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