Double Mountain Trouble: A MFM Menage Romance

by Katerina Cole

  The lies.

  The deceit.

  The paparazzi swarm. It was all my doing. When I thought I had left Chelsea behind, I thought a part of me had stayed behind too. The pain had wrapped my bones and suffocated me. The only thing I knew to do was leave. Give her what she wanted—as much distance and space from me as possible.

  It was hard to believe that was over. The hurt and the pain from losing her had evaporated. She was here with me. We were together.

  Leaning across the love seat, she brushed her lips against mine, and I instinctively pulled her into my lap. It didn’t take much for her to distract me. I blamed the pretty blue eyes she batted in my direction. It didn’t matter—I would kiss her anytime and anyplace she’d let me.

  Everything about her lit me on fire. I growled in her ear, wishing there weren’t a flight attendant and two pilots on board with us.

  “I can’t wait to take you home.”

  Chelsea pulled back and grinned. Her eyes shot across my shoulder to the window behind me. “Me either, but it looks like we have a welcome wagon.” She pointed.

  I knew, flying into Texas, there would be a press group, but I was hoping, for Chelsea’s sake, it would be minimal. I had only gotten her back a few hours ago, and this firestorm could shake the newly formed foundation we had built.

  I took her hand in mine and squeezed it a few times as we looked through the windows of the jet. It might be dark, but there was no mistaking the mass of people gathered with cameras.

  “You ok with all of this?” I surveyed her face before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

  Her eyes widened as the jet came to a standstill on the tarmac. The flashes shot through the air like lightning strikes, and the door hadn’t even opened yet.

  “I think so.” She whispered the words toward the window, and I worried it was already too much.

  “We can wait it out.” I thought about the best exit strategy. “Or, why don’t I go out and talk to them, and then I can have someone from the airport sneak you to the car? That could work.” I was trying to formulate a plan B and C, but she stopped me.

  “No.” She turned to face me. “We’re doing this together. This is a part of you, and I need to get used to it. You are Ben Baldwin, right? The World’s Most Sought-After Bachelor,” she teased.

  I loved that she was determined to face the reporters, and loved it even more that she was ready to embrace this part of my life, but I felt the familiar pain under my ribs as I inhaled. It was sharper with each breath. This was the last welcome I would have planned for her. There had to be a way to shield her from it.

  I wanted to run to the cockpit and tell the pilots to fly straight back to North Carolina, back to where we could disappear on a nameless beach and blend in with the locals. Texas was home, but I felt homesick for the Sand Dollar and everything we had on Brees Island. Life was simple and easy there.

  What if she felt the same way? What if she regretted the decision to fly to Austin? She was only supposed to be in town for a few days to meet with Brandon at Blue Steel Records. This could be over before I even got to show her the ranch.

  My real life was outside the walls of this plane, and it might be more than either of us could handle. When I had the chance to get her back, all I could think about was kissing and holding her, laughing and talking with her. Loving her. Now protecting her was part of it too.

  Watching the flashes ricochet off the jet, I worried my selfishness to have her back had outweighed my judgment. No one would voluntarily sign up for this.

  “You sure? They can be kind of brutal. You don’t have to get used to it tonight. We can ease into it.”

  I thought back to how she had been ambushed in the parking lot at her father’s store and followed by a pack of paparazzi. Even her parents wound up as targets.

  Chelsea wrapped her hands around my neck and smiled. “Yes, I’m absolutely sure. Besides, I have a feeling there is no easing into life with Ben Baldwin.” She winked and I had to chuckle. That was usually my move.

  There was no denying those blue eyes. If she was ready to do this, I was going to make damn sure I controlled as much of the press onslaught as I could.

  “Ok, well just stay next to me. I’ll make a statement and then we’re off to the ranch. It will be quick and painless.” I forced a smile, knowing there was nothing painless about facing the assembly on the tarmac. There would be questions, and there would be false accusations. Rebecca would inevitably come up.

  “I’ll be fine. Stop worrying.” She reached for her backpack and slipped it over her shoulder. “I’ll let you do all the sweet talking and I'll just watch you in action.” She poked me in the side.

  “I’m glad you find the humor in all of this.” I shoved the book into the side pocket, pulled the zipper on my bag, and stood. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You never do.”

  She clutched my hand as we waited for the flight attendant to open the door. “I know that. Stop worrying.”

  Despite the private jet and the private terminal, the press was still allowed to congregate. I usually flew out at abnormal times, missing the frenzy, but ever since the breakup-reunion story of Rebecca Campbell and Ben Baldwin made headlines last week, the reporters were anxious to catch a glimpse of me, maybe even snag a quote.

  We would have to walk down the plane’s stairs, through the private terminal, and reemerge through another set of doors before we could duck into the car. I could manage the system effortlessly. With Chelsea, it was going to be a completely different experience.

  Unlike Becs, who sought the cameras, spoon-fed reporters quotes, and worked her audience, Chelsea was new to this twisted game.

  “Mr. Baldwin, you may exit the plane now.” Ally, the flight attendant, smiled brightly as she swung the door to an open position. “It was a pleasure flying with you, sir.”

  I nodded at her and thanked both pilots. I looked past the door. The ground crew had already attached the stairs. There wasn’t anything keeping us on the jet. Still, I felt as if my boots had lead soles weighing me to the threshold.

  It had already been said, but I felt like I was pushing her into the very thing that ruined every relationship before this one. I had to ask again.

  “You’re ready for this?”

  “If you don’t get off this plane, I’m going to start thinking you don’t want to take me home.” Her eyes flared.

  “All right, all right, pretty girl. Let’s do this.”

  I clasped her hand in mine and pulled Chelsea behind me as we descended the steps, leaving the safety of the jet and diving headfirst into tomorrow’s headline.

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