Jayme & Tripp (Game Wardens 1)

Jayme looked at the out of state license and knew immediately that it was a fake. He looked at the kid whose ID it was, and he could see that the kid was fidgety. A lot of times when kids got fake ID’s made, it was an out of state license that was easier to duplicate. Also, the name on it was a dead giveaway that it wasn’t his.

He handed it back to Tripp with a nod. Tripp held up the ID to show the kids. “I need George Costanza to step over this way.”

He rolled his lips in as he fought not to laugh. The kid whose ID it was stepped forward, and Tripp had him come onto their boat. Tripp sat the kid down on the bench in the back, and then stood over him with his hands on his hips.

“George, which baseball team do you work for?” Tripp asked, deadpan.

Jayme covered up his laugh with a cough. The kid looked at Tripp in complete and utter confusion.

“What baseball team do I work for?” the kid asked.

“If you were truly George Costanza, you would know,” Tripp said. “It’s the New York Yankees, by the way.”

The kid’s mouth worked, and he glanced over at his friends as if looking for help. None of them knew what the hell Tripp was talking about either. Jayme shook his head. Morons.

“How about you tell me your real name or produce your real ID.” Tripp demanded from the kid.

“That is my--“ He started, a defiant glint in his eyes. Jayme knew then this kid was going to give them hell.

“Don’t even finish that sentence, man. You’re lying to me. I want the truth, or I’ll arrest you for obstructing an investigation.”

“It’s Shaun White.”

Tripp made an aggravated noise. Jayme could tell he was losing his patience. “What kind of idiot do you think I am? You think I don’t know who Shaun White is? Last chance, kid.” Tripp pulled his cuffs from his belt. “Please, give me a reason to slap these on you.”

“Just tell him, Dude.” The driver sighed.

“Fine! It’s Oliver Payton.”

“Date of birth?” Tripp asked.

The kid told him his birthday and Tripp called it in to see if the kid was telling the truth. It came back that he was, and he was underage. Tripp then did a field sobriety test on him, which he passed by the skin of his teeth. Tripp wrote him a hefty citation and handed that to the kid before sending him back over to his friend’s boat.

“I’m keeping the ID, and Google George Costanza, will ya?” Tripp said in parting.

Jayme then steered the boat away. Tripp stopped next to him, his arms crossed over his chest as he shook his head. “Why are kids so dumb?”

Jayme shrugged.

“George Costanza.” Tripp scoffed.

Jayme finally let out the laugh he’d been holding in. “When you asked about what team he worked for, I nearly lost it.”

Tripp grinned. “Yeah, it was hard keeping a straight face myself.”

They continued on their patrol, stopping a few more boats and jet skis, but no one else gave them a hard time.

Later that evening, they were both exhausted by the time they walked in the front door. They both got showered, then met in the kitchen for something to eat. Tripp made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, while Jayme opted for a can of soup. After they both ate, they went and sat on the couch to watch TV for a little while. He couldn’t help but notice how normal and comfortable it all felt. He’d only been living there for about a week, but he felt right at home, like it was where he was meant to be.

“I have an appointment with a divorce attorney tomorrow morning,” he murmured.

Tripp rolled his head along the back of the couch so he could look at him. “Yeah? Feeling okay?”

“Yeah. I don’t think we’ve been married long enough for her to get alimony. I don’t want to fight with her, she can have the house and whatever is left. I already took what I wanted.”

Tripp hummed.

“You can take the truck in tomorrow. I’m gonna be late.”

“Just let me know when you’re done, and I’ll swing around and pick you up.”

“Okay.”

Tripp smiled at him, those damn dimples punching in deeper. His heart fluttered as they stared at each other. Tripp’s smile faded and his eyes dipped to look at Jayme’s lips. Tripp then cleared his throat and turned back to the TV. Was Tripp thinking about kissing him? He swallowed hard, wondering what it would be like to kiss a man. Was it a lot different than kissing a woman? He mentally shook himself. Why the hell was he thinking about kissing a man? He must be tired. It was a long day on the water with the sun beating down on them.