Shark Out of Water (Grab Your Pole, #3) (36 page)

Yes, I agree, good, and yes. “Yeah, Gary…I agree, he did an awesome job and it’s totally cool, but, it’s not something I’d make permanent, know what I mean?” I let that hang there for a second and with my eyes closed against the world around us, I gave in and all too briefly luxuriated in a much missed sensation as I felt her barely trace the real one with her finger. Then, taking a breath, which I honestly found difficult to do, I opened my eyes again and said, “And I told you, Camie, you asked for it,” as I pulled out her new uniform from the pocket of my jeans and dangled it behind my head. She started to laugh, wrapping her hands around my neck to playfully throttle me, and I couldn’t help but say, “You can steal my breath away all you want, but a deal’s a deal…I expect you to suit up tomorrow afternoon. Unless, of course, you’re chicken.”

“Oh, you’re not seriously
daring
me, are you?!”

I started to quietly cluck like a chicken until she grabbed the suit from my hands, hit me in the head with it, and then shoved me away from her as she hopped down from the stage. Then she twisted and turned the damned thing in front of her, trying to figure out how it’s supposed to go, at which point I started laughing.

“I mean, I don’t think I could wear this even if I wanted to, Tristan…it’s like a…a…well I don’t know what it’s like, but Geometry is less complicated than this thing.”

I cocked my head to the side, trying to figure it out as well. I took one corner and tilted it, turned another piece over, and just kept messing with it until I got it right. “Like that…that’s how it’s supposed to go.”

She held it up against herself and looking down at it she said, “Huh. That’s actually not bad. Actually, it’s sorta cu—”

“Is that supposed to be a bathing suit?”

.

..

…

….

…..

……

…….

……..

………

!

MOTHER FUCKER!!

It took me a second to place him and what that goddamned son of a bitch, fucking walking dead, cock sucking predator from the bowling alley and those two parties thinks he’s doing here, I have no fucking clue, but I’ll be fucking goddamned if I’m gonna let him gawk at Camie in that suit! And no! I don’t give a fucking shit that she’s fully dressed and not actually wearing the goddamned thing! It’s held up against her body and that’s fucking close enough, goddamnit!

“No, it’s my new unif—Hey! That’s mine, give it back!” Camie laughed and shouted at me when I snatched the suit from her hands.

“Like hell I will,” I ground out and folded my arms across my chest with the suit clenched in one fucking livid fist that was prepping itself to be used in a homicide.

“Hey, that show you put on was hilarious…and the tattoos…
totally
sweet! Are they real?”

“Just the important one,” I growled at him and clenched my teeth together.

He looked at Camie who was back to looking shocked stupid, then he looked at me and decided since she’d apparently forgotten her manners, he went to introduce himself, “So uh, I take it you’re Tristan…I’m—”

“I know who you are,” I cut him off, practically shaking with the desire to tear this fuckwad to pieces for having the blatant insolence to show up here and then actually speak to me like I have any interest in who he is or what he has to say other than the sound of his final breath. Then I raised a brow at Camie and inclined my head just barely as if to say, “You better fucking make him go away, Camie, or I will and believe me when I say that “away” will take on a whole new fucking meaning if I do it.” Strangulation, that’s one way…

Finally finding her voice, she asked, “Wh—what are you doing here?”

“Oh, well, it sounded like fun so I thought I’d come watch and support you. Oh, here, I thought you might be hungry so I made you a plate. There wasn’t a lot left so hopefully you like fruit salad and carrots...”

Shotgun-number 2, baseball bat-3, dull rusty knife-4, hanging-5, bonfire-6, boot heel to the head-7, draw and quarter-8, disembowelment-9, gored with the Unicorn’s horn-10…

“Um, yeah, actually I’m starving, so um, thanks,” she said, being clearly undecided on whether to take the plate the guy I’m gonna murder in about eleven different ways was holding out for her, but when she did and her faced paled as she looked at it and her hand started to shake, I temporarily forgot about probably seven of the ways I’m gonna kill him while I was trying to focus my attention on her.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” I heard myself say it, but it didn’t really click until later when I reviewed the evening and was gloating in the privacy of my own home, and it didn’t matter that I’d slipped up because she was too freaked to have it register at all.

“Uhh…th—this’ll kill me so um, take it…take it far away, please,” Camie answered with a shaky breath and went to hand it back to the fuck who’d given it to her in the first place.

Reflexively, my hand was reaching for the plate the second Camie said it would kill her, and as I took the plate and looked at it, I immediately understood.

“Oh fuck!”
I gasped and literally threw the plate like a Frisbee to get it as far away from her as possible.

“Why—
kill
you? It’s just carrots and fruit!”

Without sparing a thought about where or on who the plate had landed or the fuckwagon who almost took my baby from me, that is aside from noticing he hadn’t made a single move to do as she’d asked, I looked back at Camie. “Honest to God, Camie, you’re allergic to
bananas
?!”

Jesus, I did
not
see that one comin’. I knew she didn’t like ‘em, or, actually utterly detests them with a fiery hate would be more appropriate here, but I honestly expected her allergy tests to come back positive for the wasp if anything at all. I mean that really wouldn’t have been all that unusual. People have allergic reactions all the time and never find out what they’re from. Not necessarily massive anaphylactic reactions like she had, but still, it happens more than you’d think.

“Um, yeah, I—I’m—bananas, yeah, I am,” she admitted a little uncomfortably or maybe still a little freaked out, but whatever the case, she was blushing when she looked at me and answered, which unfortunately made me begin to get a little uncomfortable as well.

Jesus, what a fuckin’ understatement…“a little uncomfortable”…basically I’m doomed to endure the rest of the evening with a semi that’ll turn into a full-on rager if I’m not extremely careful.

“Oh hey, Camie, I’m
really
sorry…I had no idea. Wow. So, you’d like…literally
die
if you ate a banana?”

Oh! Poison-11. Although that’s not nearly as hands on as I would like…

“Yep. I came pretty close the last time I did,” she said. Then turning her gorgeous crystalline eyes back up to mine and holding me prisoner with those limpid pools of possibilities, she continued, “In fact, I shouldn’t even touch them, so, thank you…again.”

“Anytime,” I replied and gave her a wink when all I really wanted to do was bustle her off to some place safe and banana free. Like my room! I can honestly say there is no fruit of any kind in my room…I think she’d be perfectly safe there. I’d even let her have my pillow!

I think she abruptly changed the subject because she was still distressed and I was fine with that but, I really didn’t care for discussing our lives in front of this douche bag and him asking questions like he’s entitled to answers even though the subject matter should’ve given him a clue that he really doesn’t stand a chance here…

“Oh hey, I was thinking of bringing the girls to the meet tomorrow, how do you think they’d do?”

“They’d probably be fine, but the weather could shift and turn cold again so just make sure you bring something to keep ‘em warm in if it does.”

“Well of course. I was thinking it’d be like a field trip…you know, get ‘em out of the house and stuff, besides, I’m sure they’d like to see what their dad does and then you can just take them home with you afterwards.”

“Yeah, that’ll work. Do me a favor though and pack something for them to eat for dinner if the meet runs late…you know how they get and I don’t wanna listen to it on the way home.”

“Um, who exactly are the girls?”

“Oh, they’re our cats.”

“Oh. God, you freaked me out…it sounded like you were talking about your kids or something.”

“We are,” I said through clenched teeth and looked at him, suddenly remembering a few more ways to end a person’s life.

“Well, yeah, he’s right, sort of…I mean, they were too itty-bitty to remember their mom, she got hit by stupid a car…anyway, we adopted them together so we’re like all they’ve ever known in the way of parents, plus we have a shared custody agreement.”

“Shared custody of
cats
?”

“I know, it’s not normal, but they really aren’t normal either. Besides, it works for us and it makes them happy. Also, they’re just like kids and throw all kinds of kitty tantrums when they’re unhap—” Camie patiently explained to her “friend” when she was interrupted by two of
mine
. One of whom could even teach the cats a little something about throwing tantrums and was wearing a diaper and a t-shirt that read, “Mommy and Daddy love me so much they wanted me to attend their wedding.”

“Twisan!” Joey, whose face and hands looked like someone had replaced the soap he’d last washed them in with chocolate, bounced and cheered from Mia’s arms when she walked up to us.

Now, under pretty much any other circumstance I would’ve been less than thrilled to have Mia waltz up to me when I was with Camie, and initially, I wasn’t at all pleased with her for doing just that, but in the end, it worked to my advantage so I kinda owe her. Or maybe I owe her enormous lack of maternal instincts, empathy and inability to find anything about kids to be redeeming. Plus, she was in a real bitchy mood so that was like a bonus.

“
Ugh
, would you please just take this…” Mia said, completely disgusted with her chocolate-coated nephew and possibly even pissed off that the one-year-old hasn’t yet figured out how to eat without getting anything on him. Then she quite literally thrust Joey into my arms. She made a rare, unattractive face and then collected herself enough to look her seductive best again, minus the intent to do so. “I will
never
understand the attraction to having one of those.”

So that’s another reason why Mia and I would never work; she
detests
kids. Pretty much everything about them too. And yes, I understand this is another idiosyncrasy of mine, seeing that I most definitely don’t want to father any children, but it’s not because I don’t really like them. It’s sorta because I
really
do. But learning the not liking anything about children part of her also taught me that Mia doesn’t know how to play and I discovered how huge that is for me. She’s got a decent sense of humor and can laugh, but I honestly doubt she could ever play and be goofy, or more specifically, laugh at herself. It’s like she takes everything seriously and doesn’t recognize the ridiculous things in life as some of the best opportunities to let your stress out by laughing at it.

A prime example; Mia would’ve probably dropped him on his diapered ass without a second thought if Joey tried to do to her what he was about to do to me…

“Mia, they’re called c-h-i-l-d-r-e-n and this one has the ability to hear you,” I quietly admonished her and caught Camie giggling at me and Joey who’d put one of his messy hands on my cheek, the other one, the one with the mushed up remnants of a frosted brownie, kind of in my hair and then tilted my head so he could give me a big, chocolately, toddler kiss on the cheek. I didn’t mind in the slightest and found it just as comical as Camie did. It’s not like I’m not washable, you know?

“Excellent, you’ve just proven you can spell as well as strip, you sanctimonious p-e-n-i-s. And for that, well done, oh and Camie, you handled his treachery with the utmost class and looked amazing doing it,” Mia said in genuine compliment to Camie and then turned her attention to the asspirate with the intention of greeting him or giving him a compliment of some kind as well, and that’s when her ability to be a remarkably virulent bitch of the highest order began to be appreciated. By me at least. “And y—…wait, who are
you
?” He opened his mouth to speak but with derision dripping from every word, she shut him up and slammed him down. “Don’t answer that,
Junior
, it was rhetorical, I couldn’t care less…but something you should know about me before you look at my tits again like a hungry infant, this kitty doesn’t find drooling children attractive and even if I did, I don’t play in the pee-wee league, so you might want to consider adjusting your game to something you have a remote shot at winning and so you know, that’s not happening either,” she said, referring to Camie who missed Mia’s pointed comment, and then ignoring him like a fart or a soiled diaper, Mia turned to me with a raised brow as Joey requested an airplane ride and whispered under her breath, “He needs to meet with an unfortunate accident.”

“Way ahead of you,” I mumbled in reply and then spun Joey around by one of his arms and legs.

As I was spinning him, Mia, still irritable, made a slight attempt to improve her evening by asking, “Hey pilot, I don’t suppose you’ll tell me how I might get in touch with a certain impotent individual with the most amazing gray eyes I’ve ever seen and a propensity for poking holes in his body, will you?”

“Still too soon…” Yeah, Brandon’s out for the count for a good long while if I’m any decent judge.

“Oh fine,” she sighed, “But I have better things to do than hang around here, so congratulations, you get the child. Gary’s around here somewhere but if I were you, I wouldn’t give the kid anymore to eat…he practically scarfed down everything on those tables. I swear he’s going to grow up and be a porker if he’s not taught healthy eating habits soon…I’m not kidding either, it made me want to purge simply watching him eat all that… Oh, here’s his sippy cup of milk,” Mia said, handing the cup to Camie and then she turned to leave, calling over her shoulder as she did, “Enjoy getting sticky, Batman, and nice seeing you again, Camie…oh and by the way, Camie, I’m a free agent so if you decide to play Cat Woman at some point and want some help, let me know.”