Page 60 of Eight Years (The Trident Trilogy 1)

She shook her head no against his chest, her mass of curls bobbing. “Okay, then let’s just go over to the visitors’ area, and we can talk a little bit. Okay? C’mon, you can ride in a jeep.”

Mack whistled to the guard, pointing at the VW. “Okay, if she leaves this here for an hour?” He barely waited for the reply. He knew no one ever said no to the operators on the base.

“Yeah, all good. I’ll keep my eye on it.” The guard quickly moved his eyes from Millie to the VW when he saw the way Mack was looking at him.

Mack watched Millie crawl into the jeep. Her cutoffs were barely covering what desperately needed to be covered.

She looked up at him. “What?”

He shook his head and sighed. He drove over to the picnic tables by the visitors’ lot. “You thirsty?” he asked as she climbed up to sit on one of the tables. She nodded.

“I’m going to go inside and grab us a few bottles of water. Wait here,” he ordered.

“You know, I’d prefer a beer if you have any in there,” she said, smiling.

He turned around, continuing to walk backward. “You’re not funny, Millie. Not even a little bit.”

She smiled as she watched him disappear into the building. She’d felt like a complete idiot a couple minutes before, and now she felt happier than she had in days. He always made her feel that way.

“Ma’am, you lost?” Millie turned around to see a beautiful man approaching her. She definitely had never seen anyone like this at her high school. He was sweating, like he had just gotten done working out. His T-shirt was tucked into the band of his shorts. Holy crap, she thought, as her eyes drank in the rippling muscles of his tattoo-covered chest. She didn’t seem to have use of her voice at the moment.

He smiled, clearly used to the effect he had on women. “My name’s Mason. What’s your name?”

She took his extended hand. “Umm,” she said, trying to remember what he had asked her, “Millie, and umm no, I’m not lost. I’m waiting for my dad.”

He smiled and put his foot on the bench next to her, so he was almost touching her. “Oh, is your dad navy? What’s his name?”

Millie stared at the tiger tattoo on his chest, trying desperately to remember her dad’s name. “Umm, his name is Mack Marsh.”

Mason quickly pulled his leg down and backed up two steps. “Mack Marsh is your dad?”

“Yes, Mack Marsh is her dad.” Mack had come out of the side door to see one of their new recruits talking to his daughter, and he wasn’t pleased.

“Mack, I just met your daughter,” Mason said a little too loudly as he stumbled farther back away from her.

“You mean my sixteen-year-old daughter?” Mack said, glaring at Mason.

“She’s sixteen?” Mason realized he’d made a mistake by looking back at Millie. “Look at the time,” he said as he pointed to his bare wrist, walking away quickly.

Millie watched him walk away until Mack grabbed her jaw and pushed it in his direction.

“Millie,” he said, looking directly into her eyes. “He is a SEAL. You will never date a SEAL. Never. Do you understand me?”

“What’s wrong with SEALs? You’re a SEAL.” She tried to steal another glance at Mason as she turned to toss the bottle cap into the trash can.

“Because I’m a SEAL, I know what horrible boyfriends and husbands we make,” he said, trying to regain her focus. “And, besides, you’re too young to think about that. Shouldn’t you still be playing with dolls?”

“I never played with dolls. You’ve had weapons in my hands since I was five.”

“I stand by that decision.” Especially with the way I just saw that rook staring at you, he thought.

“Maybe I’ll be the first female SEAL,” she said. “I mean, isn’t that why you taught me all that stuff—the weapons, self-defense? My school counselor said I could write my ticket in the military.”

“No, Millie, you’re meant for something else. You don’t want to spend your life like this. You’re a butterfly. You need to be free.”

“A combat-ready butterfly,” she said.

“Nothing wrong with that. Even butterflies need to know how to kill unwanted suitors.”

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