Page 39 of Eight Years (The Trident Trilogy 1)

Chapter Twenty

Mason

Virginia Beach, Virginia

2019

The minute she takes off her sundress to reveal her swimsuit underneath, I start thinking that swimming might have been a bad idea. Yeah, I’m going to keep my hands off of her, but damn. Just damn. And I thought her workout gear was dangerous. She’s wearing a sleeveless, front-zip rash guard suit. It’s fucking sexy to me that she knows what to wear to swim in the ocean. Most women I know would show up in the stringiest bikini and be worthless the first second a wave hit them. I reach in the back of the truck, pull over my swim chest, and get some fins and face masks out.

“Seriously, you drive around with fins and masks in your truck.” She looks at me like this is a weird thing.

“Millie, I’m a SEAL. Swimming is literally what I do for a living, among other things. It’s like you carrying your computer around. This is my gear.”

“It’s not like that at all,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Besides, your stuff is going to be way too big for me.”

“I carry all sizes, just in case.”

“Just in case what?” I can almost see the wheels spinning faster in her brain. “Oh my God, is this one of your moves with the ladies? You take them swimming, and show off your prowess?”

“This is not one of my moves.” Believe me, it doesn’t take this much.

“I mean, I know you’re not making a move on me, but do you do this with the Frog Hogs?”

“Where did you hear that term? Don’t say that.” It sounds so weird coming out of her mouth. I don’t want her associated with that side of my life.

“Why? Is it insulting to you?” She has a way of looking at me that makes my heart rate sky-rocket.

“It’s insulting to anyone who uses it,” I say. “And, frankly, I wouldn’t waste this much energy on them.”

“Ha, so you do use this move, but just on the ladies that require a little more work.”

There are no ladies that require work around here. Like, literally zero. Except for you, Millie. Except for you.

“I have all sizes of swim gear, so when my niece and nephews come to visit me, I have some for them.”

“Damn, I gave you way too long to come up with an alternative story. I think Virginia Beach is making my interrogation skills soft,” she says.

I hand her the small fins and face mask, and shut the wagon gate. “Is there any way we can just get in the water?”

She starts out swimming ahead of me. I can tell her dad trained her. Impressive form, a lot of strength. She’s handling the swells the right way. But after about fifteen minutes, she starts to slow down. I need to stop her and check her breathing. I grab her foot.

“You okay?” I reach over to take off her mask. She’s breathing too hard.

“Uh, I think. . . I’m really not in this kind of shape anymore.” She’s struggling for words. Time for a rest.

I grab her arm and pull her towards me. “Here, stop paddling and just rest for a second.”

I put my arms under hers and pull her on top of my body, as I lay back to float. She’s still struggling.

“C’mon. Rest back,” I say firmly, holding her on top of my chest.

“Why do I never have a choice in anything?” She starts to relax her body as she feels the steadiness of my body below her.

“Because you would choose wrong. Stop talking. Just close your eyes and try to breathe normally.” I loosen my grip on her, and just let her rest on top of me. Her breathing slows down a little bit.

“I think I’m okay now.” She tries to slide off of me. I block her with my arm.

“Your breathing is still accelerated. Just rest a little bit more before we head back.”

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