Double Team: A Menage Romance Read online

  "Where's Denise?" I ask.

  "She and Ed had to drive over to Gunnison for an OB appointment. They're all nervous because this is their first baby. Wanted to get some fancy OB doctor over there instead of Dr. Allen, even though Dr. Allen's been delivering babies for the last thirty years. Delivered both of you and you turned out just fine." She shakes her head and makes a tsk-tsk sound before she gets distracted by the image of the President and First Lady on the television in the living room.

  "You know, he came through Denver last week," Bess says, nodding toward the television where a video clip plays of the First Couple waving to a crowd at some kind of political event. "I'm voting for the other guy. I've never much cared for either of them. I've always thought he was just kind of smug. I know people say she's so fashionable and all, but she's always seemed off to me. Cold."

  Noah grunts. "Exactly."

  "Noah met him," I tell her.

  "The President?? Noah Ashby, you're lying here on the sofa like nothing's going on, when you met the President of the United States?"

  "I thought you didn't care for him," Noah says.

  "That doesn't mean I don't want to hear about it!” Bess exclaims. "I swear, the two of you with your celebrity lives, do you think us mere mortals don't want to know who you're hobnobbing with?"

  "It's not a big deal," Noah grumbles.

  "We're working with his daughter on a charity thing," I say, unable to resist riling Noah up since he's had such an attitude problem when it comes to this. I guess I'm not all pissed off - because I'm confident in my ability to land Grace myself. "Noah donated his ranch."

  "Yeah, and Aiden decided he was suddenly all about charity," Noah adds.

  "I've always been about charity. What do you think hanging around your sullen ass is, if it's not charity?"

  "Maybe you should take your charitable ass and get it out of my house," Noah suggests, his tone biting. "Leave my neighbors alone."

  "I think your neighbor is fine with my not leaving her alone."

  "Enough," Bess interrupts. "Are you both arguing over some girl?"

  "Not just some girl," I say.

  Paul walks into the room. "The two of you can work out your crap somewhere else," he booms. "We got more important things to talk about here – like what smells so good in the kitchen, Bess?"

  16

  Noah

  This place is crazy.

  What were they thinking, giving these kids ice cream? I don’t know jack shit about kids, but even I know that giving sugar to twenty kids and turning them loose to set up campsites is a recipe for disaster. There are four camp counselors trying to establish order in a field a few hundred yards away from my house – the area I designated for the campsite.

  Aiden and I spent most of lunch – hotdogs and burgers – fielding questions from a bunch of kids, some of whom were super excited we were here and some who didn’t know who the hell we were. I preferred the kids who didn’t know who the hell we were. The camp only started today, but already I think I’ve answered more questions than I did from reporters all last season.

  I glance back at the house, wondering if anyone would notice if I ditched the tiny terrors out here and caught a workout in the gym. Or shit, just enjoyed ten minutes of silence.

  Grace Sullivan has been all business since she got here. Professional doesn’t even begin to describe her attitude. She’s been cool as a cucumber ever since Aiden and I met with her in her office. There were a few times the past few days when she called me personally to ask questions about the ranch, questions that I could swear an assistant could have asked. I thought she was calling because there was something between us, but even during those calls she was all business. When she introduced Aiden and I at the beginning of the camp, it was like we were any other celebrities.

  There was one moment after she finished the introductions, however, when she met my gaze and something passed between us. It was enough to make her cheeks flush, but that was the only hint I was given that she might be attracted to me.

  Fortunately, I’m not the only one who’s been kept at arm’s length. Aiden hasn’t gotten any alone time with her, and that’s how it’s going to stay if I have anything to say about it. The camp counselors are all required to camp outside with the kids, but I “generously” opened the main house to Grace and the field house to the support staff who needed space during the week but wouldn’t be staying overnight. Grace started to protest that it wasn’t necessary and that she usually stays with the support staff, but her security detail stepped in and said that it was a better setup from a security point of view.

  Score one for the Secret Service agents.

  A boy darts past me with a bunch of tent spikes in his hand, and I grab him by the back of the shirt. He looks up at me. “Dude.”

  “Dude,” I repeat, letting go of him. “Anyone ever tell you not to run with scissors?”

  “Uh, these aren’t scissors.”

  “Yeah, they’re spikes, Louis,” I correct, reading the name tag on his shirt. “And I’m pretty sure that’s worse.”

  “Why?”

  “You want to trip and fall and get a spike through the eye?”

  “That would be gnarly.”

  I roll my eyes. “Where’s your tent?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

  “You’re just running around with a bunch of tent spikes for no reason?”

  “That kid has it. I paired up with him.” He points to a nerdy blond kid with glasses twenty yards away who’s holding a tent and looking like a stiff wind could knock him over.

  I exhale heavily. “Have you ever been camping?”

  “No.”

  “Where are your counselors?”

  He shrugs and points to a counselor helping a pair of kids with a tent. Then he turns back to me and asks, “Do you know how to set up a tent?”

  At the same time, I catch a glimpse of Aiden on the other side of the field, walking toward Grace. She’s squatting down in her jeans and cowgirl boots – the most inauthentic bright red boots ever, but the second I saw her in them, I couldn’t help but think of her in nothing but those boots. She smiles as she talks to a kid. When Aiden reaches her, she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and directs that smile toward him.

  Walk over and take Grace out of Aiden’s hands or help a couple of kids set up a tent? It isn’t even a question.

  Inwardly I groan; outwardly, I sigh. “Ah, shit. Yeah, I know how to set up a tent.”

  “Don’t sound so happy,” Louis says. “Are you a camp counselor? You’re not supposed to cuss.”

  “How old are you?” I ask.

  “Ten.”

  “I’m pretty sure your ears aren’t going to fall off if you hear the word ‘shit’.”

  “You’re kind of an ass,” he notes as we walk. All right, these kids might not be so bad after all.

  "Did you just call me an ass?"

  “That's what my mom calls people sometimes when they cut in front of her in traffic. Who are you, anyway?”

  “I’m a football player.”

  He looks at me with his nose wrinkled. “You don’t look like a football player.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? What the hell do you think a football player looks like?”

  “Rich,” he says, matter-of-fact, as we get to the campsite. The twiggy little blond kid is standing beside a pile of tarp and various supplies, looking helpless.

  “And I don’t look rich?”

  Louis shrugs.

  “Whoa,” the blond kid breathes, looking at me with wide eyes. “I know who you are.”

  I look at Louis. “See? Told you. I’m famous.”

  The blond kid, Spencer, as I note from his nametag, nods. “You’re on that TV show.”

  “You’re on a TV show?” Louis blurts. “Well, why didn’t you say that?”

  “Because I’m not on a TV show,” I grumble. How’d I wind up paired with the only two kids here who don’t know who I am? “Were