Page 5 of The Best Trick

I sighed like it was all so incredibly tedious, but inside I was glittering with excitement, because Odin was in a dangerously sexy mood now.

“Yeah, whatevs,” I said haughtily. “Hot tubs aren't all that they're cracked up to be.” Of course, I was teasing. Hot tubbing was one of my favorite group activities.

Odin came over and loomed over me. Thor closed his book—loudly.

I suppressed a huge grin. Spicytimes ahoy!

“No way. We’re not starting anything,” Zeus warned. “Not starting anything. We don’t have time.”

“Right, and I really don't see what the big thrill is with hot tubs,” I continued breezily. “Everybody is always so excited about them, but what are they, more than a giant vat of warm water? My book is so much more exciting than that. It's a historical taking place in the Regency times when people knew how to act properly. Unlike now. Men simply don't know how to treat women nowadays, don't you agree?”

Zeus looked nearly apoplectic.

Few things were more enjoyable than taunting my guys when there was no time to have sex.

Three pairs of eyes raked my skin. Taunting unlocked.

I planned to continue my evil taunting in the car, and they would have to wait, slowly going crazy. There was no better recipe for an explosively delicious manwich.

Zeus planted his fists on his hips. “We’ll be there by dinnertime, and then wewillgo in the hot tub.” He narrowed his eyes at me.

My belly tightened.

TWO

Twenty minutes later, we were speeding down the road, all testosterone and sexual tension in a silver Jaguar that we’d paid cash for, courtesy of a recent withdrawal we’d made from a First National Bank in western Nebraska. And yes, we’re talking about a withdrawal using automatic rifles and Donald Duck masks.

Thor and I rode in the back, as usual, with Zeus driving and Odin riding shotgun.

As ex-super-secret covert-intelligence-agency spies, Zeus and Odin tended to monitor other cars whenever we drove places, sometimes obsessively. You could blindfold them at any time, and they’d be able to name the make and model of all the cars that had been behind and in front of us for miles, complete with a detailed critique of their turn-signal-usage style.

But was Zeus glancing at the rearview mirror more than usual? Was Odin scrutinizing the side mirror a little too often?

“Is something feeling off out there?” I finally asked. “Seeing anything?”

“Just your sexy face,” Zeus said to me in the rearview mirror.

“Seriously, are you looking in the mirror a lot? Because I think you are.”

“No one’s out there,” Zeus said. “We got this.”

“Re-entry stress,” Odin said. “We were safe back there, and now we’re back out in the world.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Zeus said. “We’re safest when we move around.”

They glared at each other for a second and then went back to vigilant man mode. Thor sat there with a dark look on his face, working on weird-Thor-mood number three.

“Who are we for this one?” I asked.

“We’ll be the Newsomes,” Zeus said. “We’ll change at that rest stop you like. Tejon Pass.”

I groaned. The Newsomes, who we sometimes called the Snootersons, loved art and cheese; their disguises were effective but very elaborate. As Sarah Newsome, I wore cheek fillers, which clamped over my teeth, dramatically changing the shape of my face. Basically, Sarah Newsome had chipmunk cheeks and bushy dark eyebrows and awesome dark corkscrew curls. As Sarah Newsome, I was in a relationship with Zeus, a slightly pudgy personal trainer with shaggy blond hair named Theo Talbott.

Thor played my father, Jeff Newsome, an elderly art gallery owner. He had to wear powdery gray stuff in his hair, makeup that made his skin look weather-beaten, and a beret. Odin was my half brother, artist Jerrod Newsome. As Jerrod, Odin got a bushy beard, bushy eyebrows, a man bun, and fashionable, blue-rimmed glasses.

The best identities have some true things about you. Thor knew a lot about fancy culture. Odin did, too, and he was an amazing artist. I knew a lot about artisanal cheese from the sheep farm where I grew up. I had even started teaching online classes, using the Sarah Newsome persona, because why not? Sarah Newsome was a large, artisanal cheese-making chipmunk.

“What if I skipped the makeup?” Thor tried.

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