Double Team: A Menage Romance Read online

  "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