Page 3 of Wild Card (The Trident Trilogy 3)

Mason, Virginia Beach, Virginia, 2020

When we walk into Mack’s rental house, Millie’s standing at the kitchen island cutting up tomatoes. I’ve never seen her do anything that resembles cooking. We’re both bad at it. We usually order takeout.

“Babe, you should probably look at the cutting board while you’re cutting things,” I say as I walk over and pop a carrot into my mouth. “Or maybe just let me do it. You’re kind of destroying the tomatoes.”

“Mase,” she says, smiling. “It’s not like you can cook any better than I can.”

“No, but I bet I can handle a knife better.”

Mack walks up behind me. “Yeah, sweetie. Maybe give Mason the knife.”

She holds the knife up—pointing it back-and-forth between us. “Back off. Both of you.”

She takes another swipe at a tomato, not taking her eyes off us. “Ahhhh!” she screams as she grabs her hand.

Before we can get around the island to help her, she holds the hand up and smiles proudly. “Just kidding.”

Mack shakes his head. “Mason, take the knife away from her.”

“Roger that,” I say as I take a quick step toward her.

She spins around—pointing the knife at me again. “Try it,” she says, taking a step backward.

I reach out swiftly, immobilize her wrist, and grab the knife with my other hand. She jerks her head back in surprise.

“Mase,” she says, scowling at me. “You’re making my self-defense skills look bad in front of Dad.”

“Babe, I think he already had a pretty good idea I could get the knife away from you.” I kiss the top of her head and wrap her into a hug as I hand the knife to Chase.

“You didn’t have to make it look so easy,” she whines as she burrows her head into my chest.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I whisper into her hair. “I promise I’ll act like I’m struggling next time.”

“Thank you,” she says, puckering her lips for a kiss that I readily give her.

Since we got back from Pakistan, I hate being separated from her for any amount of time. Today, we’ve only been gone an hour, but I was already getting withdrawal symptoms. Sometimes, I swear I physically feel pain if I go too long without touching her.

“Is there any given second where you two aren’t all over each other?” Mack growls from behind us.

Millie tries to pull back, but I press her head gently to mine for one last slow kiss. I look up to see Mack glaring at me. He’s been dropping hints that I’m not nearly good enough for his daughter. Well, not dropping them, more like lobbing them in like grenades. I’ve been the appropriate amount of respectful, but now he’s starting to piss me off. It’s not even that I disagree with him, but I’m not going anywhere. He needs to start getting used to it.

“Sorry, Mack,” I say, my eyes locked with his. “I keep forgetting where Mack-the-friend ends and Mack-the-father begins.”

“It’s going to end with my foot in your ass—”

“Dad!” Mille turns around and lightly shoves him in the chest. She’s the only person who could do that without losing an arm. “Back off, please. We talked about this.”

Mack growls again, muttering something under his breath as he turns around to grab a beer out of the refrigerator.

“He’s just jealous because he’s not the one getting any for once,” Mariel says, looking at Mack with a mischievous smile.

“What do you mean ‘for once’?” Millie looks at Mariel, crinkling her nose. “My dad has only had sex one time and that was to create me.”

Chase rolls his eyes and lets out a long whistle.

“What does that look mean?” Millie grabs Chase’s arm and turns him around. He puts his arms up in protest and shakes his head.

Mack pulls Millie quickly away from Chase. He kisses her forehead. “It doesn’t mean anything, sweetie.”

---