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Sailor Proof (Shore Leave 1)

Page 43

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“True,” I agreed, waving Calder on his way before starting the car. However, my brain wandered back to my conversation with Arthur the night before. Now there was someone with serious fatherhood potential. Neither Calder nor I were cut out to be family men, not in the same way that Arthur was, no matter how he grumbled about his big family. He was a natural with kids and had the sort of life where I could absolutely see him and some future husband with a house full of musically inclined kids. I hated the future husband dude already.

And undoubtedly Arthur would have done a better job than me at answering all the kid questions they peppered me with as we got underway.

“How fast does this thing go?” Taylor asked, but before I could answer, the other questions started piling on from the twins.

“Will you show us?”

“We won’t tell Mom if you burn rubber.” Vince, the wilder twin, motioned toward my odometer like I might actually take him up on it. “Pinky promise.”

“What’s it like being on a submarine?” Seth asked as I achieved a nice, sedate highway speed. No way was I risking a ticket with a back seat full of kids.

“Yeah, what happens when someone farts on a sub?” Taylor added.

“And how do you know whether it’s night when you’re underwater?” Vince threw in his questions before I could answer the first two. “Is it true they put you in a dunk tank in school?”

“Slow down,” I ordered after about ten minutes of the question artillery. “First, I’m not going to speed, so you can stop asking that. And I’ll tell you all about life on a sub if you let me talk.”

“Talk,” Taylor parroted like I was the one holding up the conversation.

“I wanna know everything.” Seth stretched like he was settling in for a story, so I gave them one, talking about air filtration systems on the sub, clocks and shifts, lighting and more.

“Why’d you want to be on a sub anyway?” Taylor asked as I finished explaining sleeping arrangements. “My dad says you couldn’t pay him to be on a sub.”

“That’s ’cause your dad is army. My dad says your dad is a crap swimmer.” Vince was rather gleeful in delivering this insult.

“Is not.”

“Is—”

“Enough.” I silenced the backseat battle with the same tone our chief of the boat used with unruly new recruits. “I like being on a sub because we’re all a team and everyone plays a key part. It’s not like the big ships where you can get lost in the crowd. I know the name of every single person on my sub. I like that. And I like what we do in the sonar department as well—finding patterns, looking for discrepancies.”

“Nerd work,” Vince scoffed.

“Hey,” Taylor protested. “Derrick’s not a nerd.”

“Thanks—”

“That’s Arthur. Now he’s a nerd.”

“Hold up. There’s nothing wrong with being a nerd. Or liking data and science. Being smart is a good thing.” I smiled as I thought about Arthur and his impressive brain with its library of musical knowledge and trivia.

“Yeah, Vince, you should try it sometime.” In the rearview mirror, Seth was glaring at Vince. Gamer kid had clearly taken the nerd crack personally, not that I blamed him.

“I’d rather be fast,” Vince shot back.

“Or blow something up.” Taylor sounded way too eager to create damage.

“Oh! Or kick it down!”

“I’m gonna make more money than both of you,” Seth said firmly. And he probably wasn’t wrong there either.

“Stay in school, all of you. You might change your minds about your career choices.” I slowed as we neared the outskirts of Port Angeles.

“You sound like my mom.” Taylor wrinkled his nose when I glanced back.

“Maybe she knows a thing or two.” I laughed then pointed at my dashboard. “Now let the GPS tell us which way to go.”

The first place we tried was closed already, but the second had a cheerful open sign in the window.

“Do we get drinks too?” Vince asked.

“No coffee.” The last thing these kids needed was caffeine, but when they all made sad noises and puppy-dog faces, I quickly added, “How about smoothies?”

“Thanks, Uncle Derrick.” Taylor followed the twins out of the car.

“He’s not our uncle,” Vince reminded him.

“Might as well be.” Taylor shrugged.

I wasn’t about to touch that comment, so I herded them into the little coffeehouse. To my surprise, I liked having them along. There was something reassuring about their chatter, kind of like being around my crew on the boat. Perhaps a family was simply a different sort of team.

Maybe...

No. I shut that line of thinking down. Luckily, I had the mile-long drink list to worry about. Three drink carriers later and we were back on the road, where they peppered me with even more questions, but I didn’t mind.

Much.

“That was so cool,” Taylor raved as we arrived back at the camp. “Thanks.”



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