Method(43)

Pausing, I turn back to him with my hand on the door. “Have you ever used it?”

He starts working on my beer and takes a long pull. “Never had a reason to, every part I’ve played so far is a loose cannon with mommy issues.” He flashes me a sly grin. “I’ve got that down pat.”



“What are you thinking about, handsome?” Mila asks, walking through our bedroom with nothing but a towel on her head. She grins at me with a bit of the devil in her eyes. My attraction to her hasn’t diminished in the years I’ve known her. If anything, it’s grown, it’s as if we became wired when we got together.

“I’m thinking if you keep prancing around here naked that I’m going to do my worst.”

“Like that’s a threat.” She rolls her eyes before disappearing into her closet, and I can hear her thumbing through a rack. “Aren’t you sick of me, yet?”

“Never. That will never happen,” I say with confidence. “I’ve got way too much love for you, beauty.”

She pokes her head out of the closet. “God, can you imagine dating again?”

“I was just thinking about that.”

“About dating again?” she asks testily.

“No, about how glad I am I don’t have to, because I have you.”

“Good, you were seconds away from losing a testicle.”

“Just a testicle?”

“When you came to your senses and back to me, you would need your make up tool,” she eyes my crotch without apology, “a testicle won’t hurt us.”

“Ah.”

She continues her search through her racks. “Bleh. I don’t think I would do this again. I don’t think I would ever get married a second time. I mean I love you, I love us. But the work. Geesh.”

“You aren’t exactly campaigning for a good anniversary present this year, sweetheart.”

She pokes her head out at my tone and laughs at my frown. “I’m just talking about the routine. It’s exhausting. Getting past the representative down to the heart of the person, and then dealing with the real person. No, thank you.”

“Wow,” I say. “You’re batting fucking zero right now. I’m glad I’m not lacking in confidence today, baby.”

“Like you need more. For you, it would be easy. You snap your fingers, and an array of vaginas apply for the job.”

That comment has me shaking my head with a laugh.

“You laugh, but you know damn well that’s the case. But me, I’d have to retrain someone else.”

I raise a brow. “Retrain?”

She hops out of the closet pulling on her jeans with a wrinkled nose. “Oh, please. You just started replacing the toilet paper.”

“That’s training, huh?”

“Part of it. But we still have a way to go.”

She doesn’t realize I’m in front of her as she pulls a T-shirt over her face. Blinded by the material, I sweep her up in my arms and hear her yelp as I toss her on the bed.

“You ass,” she giggles, a sound I haven’t heard in a while. She slides her arms through the light material of her shirt regaining her balance on the bed and looks up at me through her lashes. Taking a second, I admire the pale freckles that dot her nose and the beautiful smile underneath. I live for that smile.

“No makeup today, we’re in a hurry.” And I like her better without it.

“I wasn’t planning on it, boss.”

She kneels on the bed and looks at me pointedly. “You know, you were a circus animal, and look at you now,” she says, puffing some breath on her nails and polishing them just above her breast. “Living evidence of a job well-done. You could almost pass for a gentleman.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, my beloved.”

“Never said that.” She steps off the bed and waves her hand dismissively. “Now put some of that training to use and make our bed, slob.”

I’m already pulling the six pillows she insisted we needed that no one ever sees off the floors.

“Don’t forget the pillows,” she bellows from the bathroom.

“Yes, dear.”

She pokes her head out. “We could always hire someone.”

We have a lady come once a month to deep clean. I refuse to have anyone in my house in case I decide to get my wife naked on a whim. I do enough acting outside of the house. I don’t want either of us holding back for any reason for fear the staff will hear. And we can do our own damned dishes. Mila agrees with my logic a hundred percent and is just poking the bear because she loves pissing me off. It’s a pastime of hers to do it just enough to get me agitated while luring me into ravaging her. And I let her. Every. Single. Time.

“Lines out, you cheap bastard,” she says, critiquing the way I set the pillows up before dodging the one I toss it at her.





We run lines the whole way to the shooting range.

“That’s hard work, I’m not afraid of hard work,” I snap. “Bring him to me.”

Mila reads as one of Rayo’s soldiers. “It’s not that simple.”

“Make it simple.”

She pauses, turning the page. “Wow. This next scene is brutal.”

“Yeah,” I agree.