Page 9 of A Trident Christmas Baby

“Enough!” Irish snapped, but there was no heat in his voice. He sighed. “I told Bailey to call the vet and see about getting that fucker declawed.”

Ace chuckled, clapping Irish on the shoulder. “You could always bring Mr. Whiskers along with you. You know, like your sidekick.”

“Whatever,” Irish muttered. “Let’s just get on the damn plane.”

As they boarded, the team continued ribbing Irish, occasionally meowing or offering tactical advice on how to avoid future feline ambushes. Irish endured it with the long-suffering patience of a man who knew he’d never live this down.

And Ace, despite his best efforts to stay serious, couldn’t help but grin. This was his team—professionals in the field, absolute clowns off-duty. It was just the way he liked it.

Right before they closed the door to the plane, he took out his phone and sent a text to Alex.

Ace:“Getting ready to take off. I love you.”

Within seconds, he got a reply.

Alex:“I love you, too. Be safe.”

Ace:“Always.”

???

Alex stepped out of the shower and dried off before pulling on her pajamas. As she walked into the bedroom, she heard her phone buzz with an incoming text.

She picked it up from the nightstand and smiled, seeing that it was from Ace.

Ace:“Getting ready to take off. I love you.”

She quickly typed back her reply.

Alex:“I love you, too. Be safe.”

Ace:“Always.”

With a bit of a heavy heart, she put the phone down, pulled the blanket back, and slid into bed. She sank back against the plush pillows and let out a sigh of relief.

The little one inside her seemed to have settled after what felt like hours of practicing kickboxing against her ribs. She smirked to herself, blaming the ice cream she’d devoured earlier.

“Next time, maybe I’ll settle for a few bites instead of the whole pint,” she muttered, though she knew full well she’d cave the next time she got her hands on the Christmas Cake ice cream.

Even though her body was tired, her mind wasn’t. She decided to go over the list of struggling military families who would be receiving presents that her foundation purchased on Christmas Eve.

As she reached for the green folder on the nightstand, she suddenly realized something was off. Zuma wasn’t sprawled on the bed like he usually was when Ace wasn’t home. She whistled softly, expecting to hear the familiar click of his paws on the hardwood floor. But instead, she got nothing but silence.

“Zuma?” she called, her voice cutting through the quiet house. When silence greeted her again, Alex frowned and pushed herself up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Getting up was a feat these days, and she let out a grunt as she finally stood. She picked her phone up and slid it into the pocket of her pajama pants.

Padding down the hallway, she opened each bedroom door, peeking inside. “Not here…not here either,” she mumbled, growing more puzzled by the second.

After making her way downstairs, she checked all the rooms, including the bathrooms and Ace’s and her offices. When she still came up empty, a thought struck her, and her heart sank.

Oh, shit. Did I leave him outside?

She rushed into the kitchen and hit the switch to the outside light. She flipped the lock and pushed open the French doors that led to the backyard. As soon as she stepped out onto the patio, she wrapped her arms around her belly for warmth. It was freaking freezing outside.

The chilly night air bit at her cheeks as she scanned the big yard. Just as she was about to step down to the next level of the deck, her eyes shifted to the left and landed on a peculiar sight, making her stop dead in her tracks.

There was Zuma, sprawled out in one of the lounge chairs like he owned the place. His chocolate-brown fur shone under the patio lights, and his head rested lazily on the throw blanket she must’ve left out there.

“Oh my gosh, Zuma,” Alex whispered, both relieved and horrified.I’m the worst dog mom ever,she thought to herself.

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