Holding up a hand, I stopped her mid-rant. “Right, so he doesn’t hunt sharks. How does your dad re-enact the movie Jaws, then? You can’t throw that information out there and not expect me to bite.” I chuckled at the pun.
Shooting me a glare, she sank down in her seat. “Dad belongs to the Jawesomesauce Crusaders. Every year, they go out on a boat with Quints Shark Fishing JC on it, and they re-enact the struggle to catch the shark.”
I laughed so hard after she told me the fan club's name that I almost missed the rest of what she said. “What do they hunt if they’re not hunting sharks? Oh shit, is it an inflatable shark?”
The mental image was so good that I leaned forward with the force of the laughter that came out of me and headbutted the horn.
“No,” she snapped. Leaning my head on the steering wheel, I watched her blush harder and cross her arms in front of her chest. “One of the members is an engineer who builds robots and shit for the military, so he built a mechanical version of the shark from the movie… to scale.”
Throwing my head back, I swear I tore something in my stomach when I laughed this time.
Then she whispered, “They’ve got a YouTube channel and sell merchandise.”
Hearing that, I took a deep breath and put the truck back into drive to get us home as quickly as possible. The moment I turned the engine off, my phone was out of my pocket, and the YouTube app was open on it as we walked toward the door.
When I found the account, I discovered—to my immense happiness—that they’d uploaded over three hundred videos of their encounters with the shark. They also had ones of their preparations, them re-enacting scenes on shore, in the sea—who could forget the banana boat scene—and a whole host of other things to do with the movie.
Six hours later, I’d had a stitch in my side for three hours, but I couldn’t stop watching the videos. When I eventually saw the time, I couldn’t believe I’d been watching them for that long and winced when I noticed that Tamsin had locked the house up and gone to bed.
How deep the hole go when it came to watching the videos? Considering I watched them on my phone on and off for the next week… the answer was very deep.
Chapter Ten
Garrett
I was exhausted when I walked into work today. Between trying to figure out how to keep Tamsin safe, out how to take our relationship to the next level without fucking shit up, work, training at work, life in general, and everything else in the world that was going on, I was running on little sleep.
So, walking into work while tugging at my vest because I was so hot today, I almost turned around and left again when I saw Hurst Townsend sitting on DB’s desk, laughing with him at something on the screen of his phone.
Unfortunately, he saw me before I could do it. “Why Captain Evans, as I live and breathe—which upsets Lindee, by the way. If she could find a way for me not to be breathing right now, I think she’d risk the prison sentence.”
Smirking at him, DB asked, “What did you do this time?”
Wincing, he hit the screen of his phone, and the screaming coming from it stopped. “The shorter list might be what didn’t I do. But, it keeps the relationship healthy, you know?”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I dropped my head down to study my boots for something to distract me from the possibilities of what he meant by healthy.
Think good thoughts, think good thoughts.
“Hear you had some fun with Miss Sheena, Garrett,” Hurst called.
Sighing, I raised my head back up and nodded slowly. There was little chance of me lying and getting away with it with her dad standing beside him. “Yeah, she spackled Zuri’s floor with her ass.”
A bellow of laughter came out of him. “How’d you get on with that?”
“It was fucking disgusting.”
Laughing loudly, DB added, “He was dry heaving and gagging when I got there.”
Just the memory of it and the smell made me feel like doing it all over again.
Grinning widely at me, Hurst held his phone up. “Wanna see Levi in action when it comes to dealing with his kid’s poop? Lottie says he’s got something called coprophobia, I say he’s just a pussy.”
I knew what coprophobia was. A guy I’d been in the Air Force with had it, too. I’d seen a grown man have a panic attack at having to clean the portable heads out when we’d set up a base camp that was going to be built on and expanded. They’d brought in temporary toilets until the proper ones could be installed, and those things got nasty as hell, but I’d never seen a man do it with baby doodie.