Double Team: A Menage Romance

by Sabrina Paige

  "Well, it's not every day my house gets swept for bugs," Bess says, putting her hands on her hips. "At least not the listening-device kind of bugs anyway. And call me Bess, everyone does – or Mama Ashby. No one calls me Mrs., though, not even Paul."

  Paul pokes his head out of the living room. "Get in here, now."

  "Holy shit, Dad, are you wearing a tie?" Noah asks.

  "Language, Noah Ashby," Bess snaps. "I'm sorry. My boys weren't actually raised by wolves, although they act like it."

  Grace covers a smile with her hand. "It's all right. I've gotten used to it."

  Bess stops for a second midstride, and I can't see her face because her back is toward me, but I know exactly why she stopped. She just caught what Grace said – I've gotten used to it.

  If there's anyone who would see right through all of this bullshit and our "just acquaintances" story, it's Bess. She's sharp as hell.

  I clear my throat. "Where's Annie? I thought she'd be all over Grace the second she stepped through the door." I turn to Grace. "My sister is really into politics, so be prepared. I'm pretty sure she thinks you're a real celebrity."

  "What are you talking about?" Grace grins. "I'm totally a real celebrity."

  "It's nice how you've remained so modest and unassuming," Noah quips.

  "The backyard is all set up," Bess says. "Now, I know you said it couldn't be a big thing, what with Grace coming and all, but you know Annie. It's just a few of her friends. We tried to keep it to a minimum, though."

  "Mom," Noah warns. "It can't be a big thing."

  "It's okay," Grace says.

  "Noah Ashby, give me a little bit of credit," Bess says, shaking her head. "You said this needed to be private, so your father confiscated cell phones and locked them up. No cameras, no phones."

  "Oh, you shouldn't have to go to all that trouble," Grace says.

  "Trouble?" Bess asks. "I've been wanting to take cell phones from that kid and her friends for years. All the kids have those stupid phones in their faces all the time, with their selfies and their twittering and their chats and snaps. I want to see my Annie before she flits off to Europe for two months – and I want to see her face without a phone blocking my view. So, taking their cell phones away from them was my pleasure."

  "Well, then, I'm glad I could be the excuse for cell phone confiscation," Grace says, smiling.

  As we follow Paul and Bess inside, Bess puts her arm around Grace's shoulder. "Now, my boys tell me that you're neighbors. They're not being rude and inconsiderate neighbors, are they?"

  Noah groans. "Mom, do you think she'd be here if she hated us?"

  "Grace, you don't have to answer her questions," I tell her.

  "I'm not interrogating her, boys," Bess says, smiling sweetly. "Why don't you go on and get some pie and let me chat with her. This is the first time I've ever had a real celebrity in the house."

  "We're real celebrities, too, Mom," Noah says.

  Bess pinches his cheek and his face goes dark red. "Oh of course you are, sweetie," she says.

  I stifle a laugh. If anyone else in the world dared to pinch Noah's cheek, they'd be laid out on the floor faster than you could say the words ass kicking. But he just stands there like a good son, letting his mom talk to him like a five-year-old.

  Grace covers her mouth with her hands and pretends to sneeze, but when she comes back up, she has tears in her eyes from laughing.

  "You boys go outside and find Annie," Bess orders. "Lord knows she'll be back here in two seconds, accosting Grace before you can stop her."

  "You mean, the way you are right now?" Noah asks.

  "Oh, hush your mouth," Bess says. "I'm your sweet old mother."

  "Don't let her fool you," I warn. "She's younger than she looks."

  Bess swats me with a dishtowel. "Get your smart-asses out of here. You too, Paul. Go see if anyone needs anything outside. Grace here can help me in the kitchen with the pies."

  "If you need help, just yell," Noah says.

  "I won't need any help," Bess replies.

  "I wasn't talking to you, Mom. I was talking to Grace," Noah says. "Your father's best CIA interrogators don't have anything on my mother. She wheedles more gossip out of people than –"

  "Oh, get going before I pinch your cheeks again."

  "I'll try not to reveal any state secrets." Grace turns to give us one more look over her shoulder as we head out the back door to the yard.

  Outside, I pause for a moment. The whole yard is decked out – folding tables set up along the side covered in bowls of barbecue and side dishes and enough of Bess' home-baked pies to serve a small army. White lights are strung overhead, criss-crossing across the yard from one side of the fence to the other and bathing everything with a soft glow. Some of Annie's friends play corn hole in the corner of the yard, and some hang out in Adirondack chairs drinking beer.

  Mama Ashby went all out on Annie’s going-away party, which isn't surprising in the least. Annie was in junior high when our mother died, and that first year after she died, Annie was heading in a real bad direction. But Bess just took it in stride, the way she does with everything in life, and pulled her back from the brink. I adore Bess, but she and Annie have a special bond that goes deep.

  I stand there for a second, soaking it all in. Fourth of July in West Bend is one of my favorite times of the year. Granted, we've never done it this way before, hanging out in the backyard. Usually we're downtown for the celebration. Main Street shuts down and there's a carnival right in the middle of town. That's what all of my memories of July Fourth involve – eating cotton candy and riding carnival rides until I puke.

  "Your mom did a real nice job of this," Paul notes.

  "She did," I agree. "I'm sorry that we came in with Grace and she missed out on going into West Bend for the Fourth, though."

  Paul shrugs. "I think she was tired of the pie-baking contest anyway," he says. "Shit, I was tired of hearing her complain about how it was rigged every year and how Marla Johnson was going to win the pie-baking contest no matter what because she sweet-talks the judges."

  Noah snorts. "Mom takes the pie-baking contest way too seriously."

  Paul chuckles. "So do most of the people in this town."

  "A-hole!" Annie runs over and hugs me with all of the force of a freight train running at full speed.

  I let out an umph. "Shit, girl, you really should have been the pro football player."

  "Where is she?"

  "Yeah, hello to you too, sis," I say sarcastically. "It’s really nice to see you. I’m going to miss you when you go to Europe for two months and I’m glad I get a chance to hang out with you before I leave. I love you, too.”

  Annie hits me on the arm. "Don't cry, loser," she jokes. "I'm going to go find her."

  "She's inside with Bess," I tell her.

  Annie's eyes go big. "Why did you let that happen?"

  "You know mom, it's not like telling her no was going to stop her," Noah says.

  "Oh my God, you guys, she's probably showing her our baby photos right now."

  "She probably is," I groan. “Good thing I was a cute-as-hell baby.”

  "Nope," Paul says. "I already thought of that – locked up the baby photos with the cell phones in the gun safe.”

  Annie puts her hand up to high-five him. "You're wiser than you look."

  Paul shakes his head. "Don't be a shit, girl.”

  "I'm going to tell Bess you're cussing," Annie say, grinning.

  "Tell Bess I'm cussing and see if I let you set off fireworks," Paul says gruffly.

  "Do I look okay?" Annie asks, tucking a strand of hot-pink hair behind her ear.

  I pretend to evaluate her thoughtfully. "Is your hair supposed to be that shade of pink?"

  "Shut up. I'm going to talk to her."

  "Don't freak her out, Annie."

  "I'm not going to freak her out! Honestly, you act like I'm crazy or something."

  "You're a little… intense when it comes to politi
cs, that's all."

  "I am not," she protests, taking out a notepad. "But I knew you would take our cell phones, Paul, so I made notes."

  I rip the pad out of her hands. "You're not interviewing her."

  "These aren't interview questions. They're questions from a college student who’s concerned about the future of our country."

  I shove it in my pocket. "Nice try."

  "Noah, tell him to give it back!"

  "You're not interrogating the President's daughter, Annie." Noah shakes his head.

  "Fine. I already have my questions memorized anyway." Annie bounces off toward the house.

  "Between Annie and your mother, that girl is going to run out of here screaming," Paul mutters, shaking his head.

  37

  Noah

  I love West Bend's Fourth of July celebration, but to be honest, the one in our backyard puts it to shame. We eat until we're stuffed, shoot the shit with Annie who finally agrees to leave Grace alone after Aiden and I threaten her with a restraining order – (only half-jokingly), and set off fireworks right before the city ones that are still visible from our house out on the edge of West Bend.

  Grace slips right into the family dynamic like a glove. I'm not sure whether it's because she's been raised in politics and she's used to having to fit in, but she talks to my parents like she's known them her whole life. She has my mom writing down her secret cinnamon bun recipe within an hour of being here, and Annie is still fawning over her even though she vehemently disagrees with her father's social policies.

  "How the hell are you guys friends with her?" Annie sidles up next to me, her mouth half-full of pie, and elbows me, asking the question softly.

  "You act like we don't have friends." I pretend to be offended.

  "She's classy," Annie notes, shoveling another forkful of pie into her mouth.

  "I'm aware."

  "So you and Aiden aren't exactly… uh… in the same league."

  "Says the girl who just shoveled half a piece of pie in her… pie-hole?"

  Annie makes a face and sticks out her tongue. "I like her. I really don't like her father at all, and she supports him, so I really shouldn't like her. But she's really nice."

  "Yup." I nod, afraid to say anything else because if I do, I'm going to reveal what I really think about Grace. If I open my mouth, I'm going to talk about how great she is. I'm going to gush, and that's not something Noah Ashby does. Noah Ashby grunts, and maybe acknowledges once in a while that someone might not be an asshole. But I don't gush about how much I like someone.

  So I just nod and say, "Yup."

  "Yup," Annie says, her eyebrows raised. "That's all you have to say?"

  I look at Grace across the yard talking to my father. My father is smiling and looks positively taken with her. When they walk past, Grace grins when I ask where she's going.

  "I'm going to show her the old Chevy," my dad says.

  "I like old cars," Grace explains.

  "Really?" I ask.

  "Yep.” She turns to look back at Annie and I as she walks away. "And your old man is cool."

  My dad's face turns bright red.

  "See?" Annie asks. "She's already got Dad talking cars. He and Mom are never going to let her leave."

  I grunt my response, and Annie is silent for a moment before she gets a weird look on her face. "Wait a second."

  "Wait a second, what?" I ask. I know exactly what she's about to say and I'm not about to let her say it. I look around for Aiden. "Where's your brother?"

  She points at me, ignoring my question. "You. You guys said you were acquaintances."

  "Yeah, so?" I shrug. "We are."

  "No, you're not. You like her."

  I give her my best "what the fuck" expression. "Uh, you must be drunk, Banana."

  "Huh-uh," she says, shaking her head. "You're weird. You're weird about her."

  "No one's weird, Annie."

  As soon as Aiden walks over, she starts right in on him. "What's the deal with Noah and Grace Sullivan?"

  Do not answer the question, I think, staring at Aiden as if we share a brain and I can psychically transmit that thought to him. Do not respond. Just shrug the way you do when someone asks you about politics or what your career plans are.

  "Deal? What deal?" Aiden asks, sounding guilty as sin. "I told you, we barely even know each other. We've really hardly met."

  "You're both lying."

  "Lying?" Aiden asks, his voice suddenly falsetto. "You're accusing us of lying about Grace? That's really something, Annie."

  "Oh my God, you are totally lying. That's the thing you do when you're lying – deflect and get angry. It's the same thing you did when we were kids and you took all the heads off my Barbies and put them on sticks and told me they'd been executed."

  I snort. "I remember that. I think we were playing Roman Empire."

  "You guys were both assholes," Annie accuses. "And both of you are weird. The question is why are you weird?"

  I shrug. "Whatever, Banana. You know we're both weird in general."

  She shakes her head. "Nope, this is more than that."

  I sigh exaggeratedly. "Anyone want another beer? Because I'm going to get a beer. Annie?"

  "Why?" she asks skeptically. "Do you want to get me drunk so I'll forget you guys are acting weird about her?"

  "Yes, Annie. You got me. My nefarious plan is to feed you beer until you forget my evil ways."

  One of her friends rushes up and interrupts. "We need a group photo."

  Saved by the selfie.

  "This isn't over," Annie says, narrowing her eyes at us before she runs off.

  "Have fun in Europe," Aiden calls.

  She flips us off behind her head as she walks away to join her friends.

  Aiden turns on me. "What the hell, dude?"

  "Don't look at me. It's your sister who's insisting something's weird with us and Grace and -"

  Suddenly I hear my mother's voice behind me. "Annie is insisting something's weird with you and Grace?"

  "What?!" Now I'm the one whose voice goes up an octave as I feign innocence. "No idea what you're talking about. Nothing's weird. And you might want to go grab the camera from Annie’s friend- someone apparently has a cell phone.”

  My mother just nods. “I’ll confiscate it. Your father is out in the garage showing Grace his fixer-upper. You might want to head out there after a few minutes before the poor girl is bored to tears."

  "She likes old cars," I say quickly, then pause. "I mean, that's what she said. I wouldn't know what she likes or doesn't like. Cars, hobbies, hell, I don't know what food she likes."

  Shit. Stop talking. I have to actually think it before I can get my mouth to do what the fuck my brain is ordering. I'm almost afraid I said the words aloud, but my mom isn't looking at me like I have two heads any more than she was just a minute ago, so I think I'm safe.

  "Oh?" my mom asks. "Because she seemed to know an awful lot about both of you."

  "Huh." Aiden stares at her and I know he's trying to look innocent but he really looks like the cat that ate the canary.

  "I can't imagine how," I say. Lying to my mom feels like shit.

  She looks at both of us long and hard. "Grace wouldn't be the girl you were so pissed off about the last time you were here, would it?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about." I couldn't sound less innocent if I tried.

  Aiden shrugs exaggeratedly. "Me neither. I don't remember being upset."

  "Uh-huh," my mom says. "Well, if the two of you are arguing about that girl –"

  I groan. "Mom, we told you we're not fighting over her."

  She doesn't finish her sentence. She just stops and looks at us. "No, you're not fighting over her at all, are you?"

  A look of understanding passes across her face. My mother knows Aiden and I are both with Grace.

  "You need to be careful there," she says softly. "That girl is not just some girl."

  "We hardly know her," Aide
n protests, still sticking to our story, oblivious to the fact that my mother has already deduced that it's all lies.

  "Don't treat me like some naïve old woman," my mom starts, putting her hand up immediately when Aiden tries to interrupt, "and don't tell me the details, because I don't want to know. But I know that I've not seen either of you look at a girl the way you look at that one."

  I groan. "It's not –"

  My mom leans in, her voice low. "You better make damn sure it's not just a fling, because that girl is the daughter of the President. And the way she talks about both of you… it's just a matter of time before someone notices."

  "Bess, there's nothing –" Aiden starts.

  "I already told you, I don't need the details. But it's rude to just outright lie to my face." My mom puts her hands on her hips and glares at us. "At least come up with better stories than the one you have, do you hear me? Because if the three of you have something going on –"

  "Oh my God, Bess," Aiden hisses.

  She narrows her eyes. "The two of you need to be careful. You're men. If something like that were to come out, you look like the big men on campus. She gets ruined. That's not right, mind you, but that's how the world works."

  "We're being careful, Mom."

  "Noah," Aiden whispers.

  "Oh please, you heard her, she knows anyway. Nothing is going to come out. We'll make sure of it."

  "You brought her to West Bend," my mother whispers. "With the three of you making eyes at each other the whole night, it's a wonder everyone here hasn't already figured it out."

  "We're more subtle than that," I say. At least, I thought we were. I didn't think it was written all over us, the way my mom seems to think it is.

  "Just don't be idiots. And don't break her heart, either."

  "Nobody's heart is getting broken, Mom," I say brusquely.

  "Yeah, you know Noah doesn't even have a heart," Aiden points out.

  "That's hilarious, coming from the guy who –" I start, but my mother interrupts.

  "I mean it, boys," she says firmly. "Love is complicated enough when two people are involved. I don't want to see any of you with your hearts broken."