there were a lot of dumbasses in his life. “Malone, you think this is a good idea?”
Malone’s jaw squared. “I think I need to stop betting against Hutch.”
Yep, sometimes her husband was right about being surrounded by dumbasses. Although she’d discovered that even the most intelligent of men could be turned into a dumbass when they gathered in large groups and someone—usually Ian—came up with a fun game. His fun games in the past had included using an ATV to jump over the creek at the back of their property, sending exploding glitter dicks to his rivals, and his favorite, pitting his men against each other in the stupidest of contests. She was worried what they’d come up with now. “What did you make Hutch do?”
Ian shrugged one big shoulder. “It was just a little bet. Hutch and another guy were talking some smack about who could eat more tacos. It was taco Tuesday, so I only spent like fifty bucks on a hundred tacos, and I won us this sweet, sweet babysitting gig.”
She should have wondered why there had been cheering and groans of defeat coming from the break room a few days before. She’d been told by Phoebe that if she wanted to keep her belief that their crew had any sense whatsoever, she should avoid that room. Charlie had taken her advice. Now she knew why Hutch had been downing antacids for days. “Who was he up against?”
Malone’s eyes went wide. “Boomer.”
Shit. She shouldn’t have missed that. Boomer was really just a walking gut who also happened to be one of the world’s best snipers. She’d seen Boomer eat quantities of food that would have killed most human beings. “How the hell did Hutch beat Boomer?”
Malone sighed. “I didn’t know Boomer had already been to an all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet. But I suspect your husband did.”
Ian managed to look as innocent as a rat-fink gorgeous bastard could. “The dude asked for pancakes. What was I supposed to do? And don’t play that game with me, Malone. I know you and Case spiked Hutch’s coffee with bulk fiber, you assholes.”
And that explained why poor Hutch had been in the bathroom for days.
“So Ian bet a night of babysitting and Michael bet what? Also, what did Hutch and Boomer stand to get from this besides heart disease?”
Michael put up a hand. “First off, all Big Tag said was I would owe him one. And all I wanted from him if I won was his Sunday Cowboys tickets.”
“I figured if I lost, I would give my seat to Malone and you could have Sunday to go and have a spa day or something,” Ian said. “It was kind of a win/win for me. I either got to spend time with you tonight or I got to make sure you had a day off on Sunday.”
That man. He was sneaky and manipulative, and no one should bet against him. She turned back to Malone, pointing his way. “He wins. He always wins, Michael. And everyone knows what owing him one means.”
Malone managed to pale as he looked back at the two girls playing quietly in the living room. “I kind of hoped it would be something like embedding myself in a crazy scientist’s clutches for months or joining a drug cartel so we could gather intel. You know, something like that. I could do that.”
Coward. Her sweet baby girls weren’t…no. She couldn’t even pretend in her brain. Those girls were trouble with a capital T, but it was only an hour and a half away from their bedtime. Seth was already down for the night.
And it would be fun to go out for a little while. It would be nice to play. Ian had announced that he was taking her out after they’d finished a lovely dinner of honey soy pot roast that likely would have lasted for days with a normal family, but her husband knew a thing or two about putting food away, too. Eric Vail was having a play party and they were attending. Between work and kids and all their various projects, they hadn’t had a lot of time to play lately. It had been weeks since they’d even been to Sanctum.
A big hand cupped her shoulder. “Come on, Charlie baby. It’s one night out and he was a Navy SEAL. He can handle a sleeping infant, two tiny girls, and the mutt from hell.”
There was a chime from her phone that let her know someone was on