She should have saved her breath.
Sheila jumped all over it. “Spence actually means Trask’s penis, Tabbi,” she interjected, not missing a beat. “Penises haveheads. Heads swell sometimes. For sex. Are Jett and Trask going to have sex?”
Tabitha spluttered while the rest of them stood by, trying not to laugh, wondering how Tabbi would handle this.
“I’m, uh, not sure Sheila,” she finally managed. “That’s something Jett and Trask will have to decide between themselves,” Tabitha answered carefully. “They’ll probably get to know each other better over the next few, um, months…”
Orhours, Jett thought with a snort.
Tabitha gave her a crabby side-eye. “…then they’ll decide if they want to take things further.”
Sheila thought about that for about half a second.
“I hope they have sex. I hope they have sex soon. Trask will be nicer. He’s nice now, but mostly he’s grouchy. He’s grouchy and sex will make him happy. It makes people on TV happy. Then they have babies. Babies would be fun. Trask and Jett would make pretty babies.”
None of those listening could hold it in a minute longer.
Laughter filled the room.
Sheila looked around at them all like they were lunatics, then went calmly back to her computer, which made them bust-a-gut even harder.
“And on that note,” Spencer finally said, “I think it’s time to close up the office and go home.”
CHAPTER 23
Jett hadn’t been kiddingabout the dogs’ farts.
Trask was half way home, and he was already contemplating walking the rest of the way because the air in the truck had turned noxious.
Seriously?
How did this happen?
If Trask were a betting man, he’d say that old Randal had been feeding the dogs those onions he was no longer allowed to eat.
And if the man’s odor-emittances had been anything like the pups’, Trask deemed Bunny a brave woman to have endured the challenge of sticking with Randal long enough to convert him to a new diet.
“Okay boys. Put a cork in it, will you?” he pleaded with them. “I have better things to do than smell your farts. The snow is coming down hard now, so I need to give all my attention to the road, not on your gas.”
Speaking of gas…
Dammit.He should have topped off back in Portsmouth, but it had slipped his mind since he’d wanted to get underway as quickly as possible with the blizzard closing in.
And that wasn’t like him. At all.
When was the last time he’d been unprepared for something?
Shit.
He reminded himself of his final months in the marines. Hehadbeen totally blindsidedthen, with what had happened. But he needed to let that all go. Reliving the fucked-up bunch of bullshit that had occurred would have him fuming.
Fuming…fumes…
Yup. That seemed to be the theme of the afternoon.
Farts, anger, and gasoline.
But the petrol, he could do something about.
