Page 48 of Eight Years (The Trident Trilogy 1)

“Your dirty martini, ma’am,” I say, bowing to her.

She takes a long drink and smiles at me. “You’ve done this before. It’s perfect.”

“Like I said, if you can’t be the best at something.”

“So, did you tell them about my dad being a SEAL?” She gestures over to my team.

“No. I told you I wouldn’t, and I won’t.”

“It’s just the way they reacted when the guy was hitting on me. . . It felt personal.”

“It was personal. I keep telling you that you’re part of the family now. Maybe you’ll believe me one day.”

“That was actually something my dad told me, too. That if anything ever happened to him, his team would take care of me.”

“And did they?”

“Yeah, they tried. I didn’t really let them.”

“You? Resisting someone’s help? Get out of here,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“I always think I can take care of myself. I had this boyfriend in high school. He kind of bothered me after I broke up with him. I told him off, and he never looked at me again. I was feeling like a badass, and then I found out that Dad had come to school and threatened the guy, and literally made him pee in his pants. I never knew that until after Dad died.”

“That’s amazing. If I ever had a daughter, I would do the exact same thing. You know, Mills, I know you’ve felt like a lone wolf since your dad died, but that’s not healthy. You need a team, some backup. It doesn’t matter where you are—you’re part of us now. We have your back.”

“Yeah, I guess. I’m just not used to relying on other people. Except for my dad and, you know, when he died, I just thought I’d be better on my own, calling my own shots.”

“I think you’re looking at having a team the wrong way. The important part is choosing your team members correctly. Everyone of my teammates is as strong as I am. When we’re on a mission, if I get in a tight spot, the next person has my back until I can get right again. Then when he gets in a tight spot, I have his back until he gets right. It’s not that I’m better than him or he’s better than me. We have the exact same skill set—it’s just a timing thing. When I get backwards, he has me, and vice versa. It’s fluid. Like when we enter a target, guys peel off left and right to clear what needs to be cleared, and the next person in line just takes over the lead. It’s not that the person in front of you can’t lead anymore. It’s just that they’ve taken a detour to do what they need to do, so you pick up where they left off. No one can lead a hundred percent of the time. You need other people in your corner who can pick up when you need help. You just have to make sure that they’re as good at it as you are.”

“Yeah, but who’s as good at taking care of me as I am?”

“Your dad was,” I say slowly, not wanting to spook her too much. “And, if you’ll let me in, I could be, too. Let me fight some of your battles for you.”

“I don’t think you take care of all of your teammates quite like the way you just took care of me,” she says. “For instance, I don’t think you would intervene like that if the guy was hitting on Butch.”

“If that guy was hitting on Butch, the only thing I’d be doing is fitting him for a body bag.”

She laughs, those fucking eyes sparkling at me again. “Maybe you should start thinking of me as one of the guys. Like I’m Butch.”

I sigh. I think I’ve pushed her hard enough for tonight. I put my hand on her thigh as I stand up. “Let’s be honest, Mills. If I thought about Butch the way I’m thinking about you right now, I’m the one who would need a body bag.”

I slam the rest of my whiskey, look at her one last time, and force myself to walk back over to where the guys are playing darts. By the time I look back for her, she’s gone. For the best, I tell myself. She’s still resisting, and I need to stop pushing her. That can only end badly for both of us. But, I already know I’m going to be wide awake all night again thinking of her. Like every night since she first walked into my life.

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