Page 23 of Senator

“Of course you have.” I rubbed the frown line forming between his brows. “If you want, I can review it and give you a Republican perspective?”

He studied me for a few seconds and then gestured to the people in the room. “Wouldn’t that take you away from the festivities here?”

“Tyler can take over.” I glanced at my twin, who was going into a lively description of a situation he’d gotten into with a fellow House member. “Besides, how many times have you helped me figure out all the holes in my plans? Let me return the favor.”

Veer kissed the top of my head, stepped back, and then offered me his elbow. “Thank you. Let me hear your conservative point of view, so I can figure out a way to battle your ass-backwards party members.”

“You think you’re so funny.” I laughed and tucked my arm into his.

* * *

A little beforeseven in the morning, I crept out of my room, making sure not to wake Veer. After spending a few hours reviewing Veer’s budget and debating all the obstacles he would face, we’d spent most of the night making love. I should have been exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep.

Today would be a day of relaxation. The guys planned to go out to Lake Travis for some fishing and we ladies would go for a visit to a fashion designer friend of mine who had a private showroom and then return to the house for more poolside vegging. We would all meet back for dinner, where Tyler would wow us with his grill master skills. My twin was a killer chef when it came to an open flame, and I said more power to him.

Right as I approached the back steps leading to the kitchen, I ran into the very brother I was thinking about. He was covered in sweat and wearing a soaked T-shirt and shorts.

“Good morning. Why are you up so early?”

Tyler ran a hand through his damp blond hair. “Ashur and I went for a run on the property. We’re both training for the Boston Marathon.”

“Shit. I forgot you qualified.” I winced. “Can you forgive me for not congratulating you?”

Last month, Tyler had run the Houston Marathon with Ashur. They were running fanatics and had decided they wanted to qualify for the mother of all races, the Boston Marathon.

“Sure, if you give me a hug this minute.” He lifted his wet arm. “Fair is fair.”

I ducked under him. “You keep that stinky boy smell away from me. Plus, the race isn’t until next year. Why are you training now?”

He gave me an annoyed glare. “I have to run every fucking day if I don’t want to die when the race actually happens.”

“Sorry. I’m not the runner, I don’t know how this works. I’m a Pilates and yoga girl.”

“Weak,” he said as he moved toward his bedroom.

“Excuse me? Stop right there,” I ordered. “Want to repeat that? Who’s the one who complained that he pulled a groin muscle the last time he challenged me to a session of Tabata on the reformer?”

He ran a hand across his sweaty face. “Don’t remind me. I could barely sit for a week.”

“I rest my case.”

“Whatever, go play good host and make me breakfast. I am a guest, after all.”

I snorted and took the steps down to the kitchen.

Guest, my ass. He was part owner of this estate. I wasn’t my fault he lived in Louisiana most of the time.

As I stepped onto the lower landing, I came to an abrupt stop. A loud, heated conversation was ensuing between Ashur and Tara. I peeked around the corner to see Tara’s hands braced on the granite of the island and Ashur standing with his arms folded across his chest in the posture I’d dubbed “the wall.” He was on a mission to get answers, and he wasn’t going to let Tara go until he got them.

I’d hoped they’d continue ignoring each other so the weekend wouldn’t have any more tension, but I guessed it was too much to ask. I knew there was a lot more to what had broken Ashur and Tara up than Sam and Ashur’s father orchestrating the demise of the relationship. Whatever it was, neither one of them had gotten over it.

“What do you want from me?”

“I want the truth.”

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you the truth.”

“Try me.”

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