Chapter 1

-Brian McNaught-

Post-op stand-down time is kind of a mixture of feelings. There’s the high of having survived another one and the crash after the sustained adrenaline rush. This one wasn’t too bad either way. To begin with, it didn’t last long enough to really soak the body with the super-juice, and at the risk of sounding cocky, those fucking Brotherhood assholes were so pathetic I couldn’t even get up a good scare. Hell, the scariest part about the whole thing was when Mike threatened my family jewels after we’d capped the last two dipshits. Sure, I know she probably wouldn’t have done it for real, but with Mike, you can never really be sure...

Okay, I’ll admit she’s been doing much better since she decided it was her job to make sure the Captain doesn’t stub his toe or get taken out by some dumbass looking to settle a score or some other such shit. She’s been following him around like he was the President, just waiting for the chance to throw herself in front of a speeding bullet or jump on top of a live grenade. At least it keeps her off the streets and out of the bars unless the Cap decides to go in one. So far, he’s been a good sport about it, and so have his ladies. There seems to be some unspoken agreement between the three of them: Alee and Lidia take care of his heart, and Mike protects his body. Of course, it’s only been a few days; we’ll see what happens given a little more time. God knows! Mike is enough to try the patience of a plaster saint given enough time, usually anything exceeding one minute. But so far, they seem to be taking it in stride.

Speaking of the Captain’s girls: hot damn! Talk about falling into a shit pool and coming out smelling like it was a vat of perfume! Hey, don’t get me wrong; I think the Cap deserves every nice thing he can get, but right now, if I could find a place to buy lottery tickets, I’d be having him buy a crap load for me! Talk about being touched by the good luck fairy; she must have cum all over him!

I mean if you want to just talk about looks, and I know some of you guys never get past that part, he hit the jackpot on that alone. Sure they’re as different as night and day, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing now, is it? Alee is the short, dark-haired Thai princess, and I don’t mean that negatively; she looks like a little princess doll your sister would dress up when you were kids. I know, I know, I heard the same crap from some of the sluts trying to make their move on the good ol’ Cap; she’s not that pretty, what does he see in her? Envious bullshit if you ask me; she’s beautiful, and if you don’t believe me, you’ve never seen the way she looks at the captain. Any man who sees that look of adoration, love, and pure devotion and doesn’t think this woman is beautiful has got stone for a heart and shit for brains.

Now Lidia is something else altogether. That is one big girl! I mean tall, blonde, and built like the proverbial brick shit house. Legs about a klick long, nice wide hips, and about the biggest set of tits I’ve ever seen outside a porn video. Yeah, I’ve heard the same shit about her face. How she just doesn’t measure up to today’s standard of beauty as affirmed by these two-legged man-eating harpies. Well, fuck ‘em. Better yet, don’t fuck ‘em; if you want a plastic doll to masturbate with, you can get better-looking ones out of a catalog, and at least they know when to shut up. Lidia has that same look for the Captain that Alee does, and again, if that ain’t beauty, then let me be blind to the real thing.

Of course, they’re so much more than just pretty fuck toys or gaudy arm fobs, although I will say when they walk into a room on his arms, they kind of glow, and I doubt there is a man there that sees anything else. Alee is some kind of big-brain doctor of head-shrinkage and about as sharp as they come. Of course, she ain’t in the same class as Weird, but then who is? At least she isn’t some mutant alien with an AI stuck up her butt. Mike says Weird may be a mutant, but at least he’s our mutant, so I guess that’s all right. Anyway, Alee may be this fawning little doe-eyed cheesecake around the captain, but she can be - well, I’ll just say assertive. In fact, I’m not entirely sure how or maybe why she didn’t take over the whole ship before we got there. She’s got a tongue that can flay the meat from your bones, and those pretty little black eyes of hers can look like the pits of hell if she’s not pleased with you. I don’t know what the captain does to keep her under control, but I’m guessing it involves whips, chains, and a ball-gag. I remember the first time I saw her right after the Captain capped that first douche-bag in the bar where she worked. That dumbass head of security here on the ship must have said something she didn’t like, and I swear she was going to take him down even though he about doubled her mass. She definitely has a temper and can be as dangerous as Mike, although not quite in the same way. Alee only makes you wish you were dead, whereas Mike is like a genie; rub her the wrong way, and she grants that wish.

Now Lidia is a whole other story. Sure, she’s built like every boy’s (and most men’s) jerk-off fantasy, but she’s as sweet and nice as they come. But don’t be stupid enough to think that means she’s any kind of pushover or that she’s going to faint if you say “boo.” She’s big into a lot of heavy-duty outdoor sports. (Yeah, I know you’re mostly thinking about her indoor sports, but I’d advise you to keep that to yourself unless you’ve given up on ever engaging in those indoor sports yourself; capisce?) She’s big and beautiful, but she ain’t no powder puff.

I remember a night when we were all down in the Dungeon, that’s the Xanadu’s rock-and-roll bar for us old farts. The Cap’n was out on the floor with Alee, and some dipshit got it into his head that the hectare or so of breast flesh Lidia was showing meant she was not only available but obviously receptive to his advances. I have to admit she tolerated him longer than most would have, but that ended when he grabbed her boob. Slick as a greased pig, she had his arm up behind his back in what I can tell you is a very painful hold and shoved him away. I swear she didn’t break his arm or anything! That came after the asshole stumbled into Mike. Mike and I had been moving that way when we saw what was going on, and he just had the misfortune of running into her. I think he slipped and broke his arm; the crushed testicles, I’m not sure about, but it was dark in there. Okay, the stove in ribs might have been when I slipped and my foot accidentally connected with them. Like I said, it was dark and slippery; that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

Just thought you ought to know; Lidia ain’t in the same class with Mike when it comes to putting the hurt on you up close and personal, but she ain’t bad. Don’t fuck with her. She won’t kill you, but her backup will.

In fact, if you’ll take a little advice from me, you won’t fuck with any of them. Those girls own him lock, stock, and barrel, and as far as we’re concerned, that’s just the way it should be. Maybe it’ll keep the old bastard out of trouble and off the streets for once. Hell, the only problem we can foresee is if they fuck him to death; it’ll take weeks for the mortician to get the smile off his face.

---

Who am I to be pontificating about my Captain’s women? Brian McNaught. More specifically, Sergeant Brian McNaught, UN SpecFor, (Ret.) I’m not the biggest on our team; Stan and Sam have me beat by a tonne or so; not the smartest, but then Weird is in a class or maybe species all to himself. I can shoot a standard rifle pretty well, but when it comes to sniping, Mike has me hands down. The crazy bitch does in hand-to-hand also. Well, so does Weird, but I think he just hands over his body to his internal AI and lets his mind wander off and reflect on the origins of the universe or something like that. Watching Weird fight is like watching a fucking machine. Every move is precise, exact, measured, and deadly. Mike puts her heart, soul, and every gram of hate she has into her fighting. I think that’s why she has that little bit of an edge over Weird; to him, it’s just another physics problem. Of course, even I have more finesse than Stan or Sam, but when one of you can bend rebar barehanded and your brother can straighten it out, how much finesse do you need?

Just good old Brian. I’m not the best on our team, but if Mike needs someone to call out spots for her, I’m there; you need the flank held, I’m there; you need someone to patch up the holes in your body because you were too stupid to keep your ass under cover, I’m there again. I am a pretty fair medic if I do say so myself. Get hit anywhere except maybe a direct shot to the head, and I have a pretty fair chance of keeping you alive at least until we can get you to an aid station. I’ve had a lot of practice at it.

Luckily, I wasn’t needed this time. When Weird and the Cap got singed by the bomber in the dining room, they came out needing nothing more than a new set of eardrums, which are little more than plug-and-play anymore. Well, Cap needed a little more than that, what with all the shrapnel sticking in his back; but then he got a big, beautiful snuggle-bunny out of it, so my guess is he considered it a fair trade.

Actually, we all came out pretty well on that aspect. I know it was supposed to be a big secret us taking down those tangos, but I think that lasted about a millisecond. I don’t think I’d finished lying to the NIS - I mean, giving them my statement - when every crewmember with a double X chromosome decided she knew exactly how she was going to repay her valiant saviors. I know I almost got fucked to death for a couple of nights until I just couldn’t take it any longer; I whimpered for some relief. I swear I don’t know how the captain does it, and at his age! Like the old saying goes: Once a king, always a king, but once a night is enough! Maybe if it was just two of them, but this three, four, and five ... Yeah, I know it’s supposed to be the major male fantasy, but believe me, it needs to be kept as just that: a fantasy. I mean, how is one man supposed to really satisfy more than one, okay, maybe two, women a night? How can they enjoy it, and if they don’t enjoy it, it’s just, I don’t know, just fucking? I must be getting old because I think it should be a little more than that.

Okay, I can just see you out there rolling your eyes and wishing you had my problems. True, life could be worse than lounging around poolside sucking down fruity little foo-foo drinks, basking in the sun like a turtle on a log, while gorgeous women hovered around trying to entice you with their wicked wiles. Like the captain says, it’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it.

So anyway, I’m lying there doing my lounge lizard impersonation, thinking about maybe taking a dip in the nice, cool water filled to the brim with lovely female flesh. (Okay, so maybe I hadn’t had enough to take my mind completely off sex; I’m a slow learner - what can I say?) When - plunk! - I get whacked in the head by something! I come upright instantly, and this silly fucking ball falls into my outstretched hands! You know the kind I’m talking about, a big multi-colored thing that kids play in the water with. It couldn’t have weighed much more than a balloon, but it had surprised me; remember, I had my mind on other rounded objects at the time. Well, where kid toys go, you can usually find one of the little curtain-climbers following close behind. Yep, I was right; standing right there in front of my chair was one of the little munchkins with his arms reaching out, waiting for me to give him his ball back.

“Hey, kid, this yours?” I asked, and he nodded to me solemnly without saying a word. He was a slight thing with the real light blonde hair that almost looks silver and big blue eyes. He made a motion with his right hand that looked a lot like our SpecFor sign for “yes” then made a circle over his heart; that’s one I didn’t know. I found out later it meant “please,” that one and “I’m sorry” weren’t ones they taught us in basic, not much time for the nicey-nice when you’re in a situation where you have to be quiet and you’re trying to pass along information.

You’re probably wondering how some over-the-hill grunt like me picked up even a little bit of sign language. Well, maybe not. I suppose it shows that kind of stuff in the war-vids, so I guess everybody knows it’s part of our standard training. You’d be surprised how many times we were someplace where even the ULF (Ultra Low Frequency) emitters we have that connect us to our combat net would paint us like we’re in a spotlight. We did enough Em-Com 1 ops (that’s Emission Control Level 1: total silence) back during the war that using sign was almost second nature to us.

The real question was why in the hell did this kid know it? I mean, let’s face it, we weren’t in the dark ages anymore, and just about anything that could be wrong with the ears or throat could be fixed. I don’t think there were a handful of people left in the U.S. that could be considered deaf these days. Hard of listening, yes, that would be Mike, but not deaf. Where the heck would he learn it and why?

“Here you go, kid,” and I tossed the ball back to him. “Hey, kid, you deaf?” I asked, tapping my own ear. Maybe not the most tactful of questions, but what the hell, I was curious. If he didn’t like it, he could give me the middle-finger salute and tell me to fuck off; that was always one of Mike’s favorites. If you’re noticing a pattern when I talk about Mike, you’d probably be dead on. She has many sterling qualities, and we love the little fucked-up bitch, but I think they forgot to issue her anything resembling tact in her kit when she enlisted; along with politeness, consideration, thoughtfulness, discretion... Well, you catch my drift.

He cocked his head at me and then shook his head. He tapped his ear and gave a sign that looked like our “okay,” then pointed to his throat and gave another one that looked a lot like our “broke” or “out-of-commission.”

“So you can hear but not talk?” He nodded and shrugged. “Okay, that’s strange, but what the hell,” I shrugged back. “Your parents are around here somewhere?” He kind of got a funny look on his face and started signing as he looked around furtively. I didn’t recognize anything he was telling me; probably because it didn’t have anything to do with “kill,” “neutralize,” “hold,” or “flank.” Even though I didn’t understand any of his signs, I had a pretty good idea what he was saying.

“You’re AWOL, aren’t you?” I chuckled. He looked at me and gave a sign that I knew meant he didn’t understand. “You’re not supposed to be here, and they don’t know you’re here, right?” He kind of looked down but grinned and nodded.

“So you busted out and took off on your own, did you?” He nodded. “Well, I hate to tell you, kid, but Mommy and Daddy know exactly where you are.” He looked crestfallen, then frowned at me and shook his head. He put his palms together and laid them alongside his cheek. They were taking a nap.

“That may be, kid,” I continued. “But as soon as they wake up, all they have to do is ask the ship, and it can tell them exactly where you are, using that.” I pointed to his wristband. He looked back at me in dismay.

“Afraid so,” I nodded. “But what the hell, they ain’t found you yet, so you can enjoy your freedom till they do. You like ice cream?” He nodded his head vigorously. “Well, I’m kind of hankering for some myself. What say we go find some until your retrieval squad comes and picks you up?” He nodded again, this time with an even larger grin. Why, you ask, would I go get ice cream with a kid I didn’t know - hell, I didn’t even know his name! - beats the crap out of me. For some reason, I liked the little scamp, and any kid that breaks collar and takes out on his own for a little fun can’t be all bad. Kind of reminds me of myself way back when. Hopefully, his mommy wouldn’t light up his ass like mine used to do for me back when I’d done something equally stupid.

The pool area he’d wandered into was mostly for adults and didn’t have an ice cream dispenser anywhere around - which is stupid! What? Adults don’t like ice cream? I sure do. We made our way over to the adjacent pool that catered to families and their munchkins, where there was one located.

One of the nice things about being on board the Xanadu was we were outside U.S. territorial waters and not subject to all its stupid laws. Here onboard, we can get a real steak, the captain can smoke his cigarettes in public, and they serve real ice cream; or at least as real as they can get anyway. It’s not like the kind we get at Bennie’s, where we’ve suspended the Health and Nutritional Food laws by universal proclamation, but at least it’s not the tasteless, non-fat, non-dairy, vitamin-fortified, nutritionally-neutral “frozen dessert” shit they force the rest of the sheep in the country to eat. Fuck that! Bennie’s has the full-fat, full-flavor, guaranteed-to-kill-you-quick-but-die-with-a-smile ice cream! One taste of that, and you wouldn’t be wondering why the last FDA pinky puke that stormed in and tried to shut good old Bennie down ended up with his head stuck so far up his ass they’re probably still trying to pull it out! Good luck with that; I think those assholes are born that way. If one of them were ever able to actually get his head out of his butt, he’d probably die from the fresh air.

Anyway, the stuff on board wasn’t Benny’s ice cream, but it wasn’t bad for a second choice. We each got a bowl of the stuff and headed back to my lounge chair. We sat down and “chatted” about what he’d seen so far of the ship. It was kind of fun, actually. Half the time, I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but understanding even a part of it and seeing through his eyes what this big ol’ ship looked like to a kid was kind of refreshing. He didn’t see it as little more than a huge bar with free booze filled with tits and ass; like I said, it was kind of refreshing. To him, it was the biggest playground ever built. Looking back, I suppose we didn’t see it all that much differently; we just played with different toys.

Anyway, all good things must come to an end, and without much warning, a shadow fell on us, and I swear the temperature dropped ten degrees!

“Jeremy!” someone hissed from above us, and he cringed. Okay, I have to admit maybe I did just a little also. I looked to the side and saw a pretty pair of feet in the cutest pair of deck sandals. My eyes followed the legs attached to those feet up and up and up; slowly, I’ll admit, because the scenery along the way was absolutely fabulous. The legs were smooth and perfectly formed; the hips nicely wide without being too hippy; the waist trim was flat and the ... Oh, my God! The tits were huge and looked as firm as durasteel armor! I could have spent the rest of my life drifting between those feet and those breasts, but somehow I tore my eyes away and continued up...

To look into the face of the most beautiful woman I have ever seen! She had long blonde hair the same color as the kid’s, a face of an angel, and the most kissable, soft lips you could ever hope for. Like I said, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, even with the look of barely contained anger vacillating between disgust, dismay, annoyance, and relief. But mostly, she was just plain mad. Now, the tango I’d capped a few days ago was unhappy just before I popped two 5mm’s into his brainpan; this woman was mad!

“Who do you think you are?” she demanded through gritted teeth.

“Are we in trouble?” I asked the kid. He nodded, not looking up. “A lot of trouble?” I added. He nodded again, but this time he grinned just a little. I could see him do it, but he made sure to keep his head down so the woman whom I assumed was his mother couldn’t see him do it.

“Do you think I can talk our way out of this?” I asked him while beautiful mommy boiled above us. He shook his head slightly. “Maybe if I used flattery? Told her how beautiful she was?” He hesitated for a moment but then shook his head ruefully. “Okay, how about groveling? Begging? Maybe if we threw ourselves on her mercy? I’ll tell her I kidnapped you just so I could meet her; ya think that’ll work?” The kid bobbed his head back and forth like he couldn’t decide. The kid was no dummy, that’s for sure. He knew this was a game, and humor would probably be the only way he was going to have even a chance of not being put in a hack (confined to quarters) for the rest of the trip. He waggled his hand in the universal “maybe” and shrugged.

“Tell you what,” I whispered conspiratorially to him, loud enough for her to overhear, “I’ll sweet-talk your sister and distract her so you can make a break for it.” He giggled and nodded. I stood up, smiled really big, and...

“No, you don’t, Mister!” she huffed and poked me in the chest. I could tell she was still annoyed, but even though she had a mock frown on her face, it looked like she was trying hard not to laugh. “You stay right there and be quiet while I talk to my son!” I held up my hands in surrender and looked at the kid and shrugged as if to say, “I tried!”

“And you, Jeremy Benson! Just what do you think you were doing? You scared me half to death when you weren’t there when I woke up!” she scolded. He looked back up at her stoically.

“Look like you’re sorry, kid!” I hissed. They both looked at me, and I gave him my best remorse-filled, I’m-sorry, I’ll-never-do-it-again, look with the wide eyes, pouty lips, and quivering chin. “Sell it, chum!” He copied me almost verbatim.

“Ah, Christ!” she exclaimed, throwing up her hands and looking skywards. “You’re both hopeless! All right, little man,” she said, reaching out and grabbing one of his ears lightly. “You stay right here while I find out who your new friend is.” She looked at me pointedly. I grinned at Jeremy and gave him the thumbs up but wiped the smile off my face when I looked back up at her.

“I’m Brian, ma’am; Brian McNaught,” with narrowed eyes, a snort, and Jeremy’s ear still firmly under control, she took my hand firmly.

“Now, Mr. McNaught,” she said after releasing my hand and putting hers back on her hip, “may I ask just what you were doing with my son?”

“Eating ice cream?” I answered in a small voice and held the bowl up for her. Jeremy held his up also. “Would you like some?”

“No,” she answered in exasperation and rolled her eyes, then relented. “At least not right now.”

“Well then, why don’t you sit down, and I’ll tell you how I was actually holding your escaped prisoner so you or your husband could come here and recapture him.” Jeremy gave me a frown, and I shrugged at him. “Sorry, buddy, it’s every man for himself now. They got the goods on us.”

“I don’t have a husband,” she snapped.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she snapped again.

“I think you misunderstand,” I said quickly. “I’m not sorry you don’t have a husband. I’m sorry I made the assumption.”

“What?” she said, clearly puzzled.

“Never mind,” I waved and sat down. “I think I confused myself too. Please have a seat,” I indicated an empty lounger next to mine. “I think you can let go of him now; I don’t think he’s going to run away. Are you, kiddo?” Jeremy shook his head and looked up at his mother with that remorseful look again. She sighed and let loose his ear.

“I’m going to get that look all the time now,” she muttered ruefully but sat down.

“I’m Allison Benson, by the way,” she said and smiled. It was like sunshine coming out all over again. “And I’m Jeremy’s mother, not his sister. You’re going to have to do better than that if you’re going to worm your way out of this.”

“I kind of figured that,” I laughed. “But desperate men take desperate measures. I suppose you could be his older sister, but the way he reacted, I kind of thought you were his mom.”

“You better believe it, buster,” she warned. “Now, what is going on around here?” Jeremy immediately began signing at her, so quickly I could only catch maybe a quarter of it.

“Tell her about bouncing the ball off my head,” I told him. I was pretty sure he’d missed that part.

“You know sign?” she looked at me astonished.

“Just a little,” I admitted. “We used something a lot like it when we were out in the field every once in a while.”

“You’re a veteran?”

“’fraid so,” I admitted again.

“In actual combat?”

“Yeah, but that was a long time ago and not very interesting,” I said. Jeremy was looking from his mother to the pool and had a pleading look on his face.

“You know how to swim, kiddo?” I asked, and he nodded vigorously. “You know you can watch him from here,” I said to Allison, “it’s perfectly safe.”

“Shouldn’t we be in the other pool?” she asked uncomfortably. “Isn’t this the adult pool?”

“I don’t think they really have them segregated,” I answered. I turned to Jeremy, “If anyone asks, just point me out to them, and they can talk to me, okay?” He grinned and nodded back to me and then looked over at his mother. She reluctantly nodded, and he took off like a shot.

“I am sorry we scared you,” I said when he’d gone, taking some of the blame upon myself. “But he was perfectly safe the whole time. The whole place is like a big playground; there’s not much you have to worry about.”

“Except maybe from predators like you,” she said, leaning back and looking at me with just a slight smile.

“He wouldn’t have to worry about me, but...” I clamped my mouth shut tight.

“But what?” she said, still looking at me.

“But nothing,” I replied. “I was about to make an obnoxious comment, but for once, I actually stopped myself.”

“And what would that be?” she said, resting her chin on her fist. She was toying with me now.

“Look, you are an incredibly beautiful woman,” I began. “I’m sure you get hit on by every two-legged critter with a swinging...” I was going to say swinging dick, but I stopped myself again. “… With eyes in his head. I doubt there isn’t a stupid pickup line you haven’t heard, and to be honest, I don’t feel like being bunched in with that crowd.”

“So I’m not your type?” she asked, her smile getting just a little bit bigger.

“No, I guess not,” she actually looked surprised. “I mean, you’re the type I wish was my type. But let’s be honest here: a woman like you just doesn’t go for a guy like me. You’re more the vid-star, rich CEO, or politician type. You know; men with money, power, and looks.”

“I think I’ve just been insulted,” she said, cocking her head at me.

“No! That’s not what I mean,” I protested miserably. “Hell, I’m fuc ... Screwing it up again. That’s not what I meant at all.”

“Then what did you mean?” I think she was messing with me.

“Fine,” I snorted. “Here’s what I meant: You are beautiful enough that you could have any man you wanted. I don’t give a damn who he is. You have choices, any choice you want. Why wouldn’t you go for the most successful man you can? I’m not saying that’s bad; hell, it’s nature. I definitely didn’t want to insult you.”

“I know, I’m just messing with you,” she admitted and leaned back in the chair, her eyes still on Jeremy. “I suppose you’re right. I certainly get enough offers for dates,” she snorted. “Sometimes having this body isn’t quite the blessing you’d think.”

“Oh, the old poor little beauty queen that couldn’t get a date because everybody assumes she’s already got her calendar filled up?” I returned her snort.

“You’re not going to buy that, are you?” she looked at me and laughed.

“Nope,” I said, leaning back myself.

“No, desperate and dateless?”

“Sorry, I ain’t buying it,” I shook my head. “However, I would like to give it a shot and ask you to have dinner with me tonight.”

“I don’t know...” she frowned. “Jeremy...”

“You don’t think Jeremy would want to have dinner with me?” I asked, a bit surprised.

“You’re asking both of us?” Now I wasn’t the only one surprised.

“Sure,” I confirmed. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind having dinner with you alone, but I’d kind of like having the munchkin along on our first date.”

“Our first date,” she mused with amusement, looking at me over the top of her sunshades. “I’ll let you know,” she smiled and settled back again.

Hey, at least it wasn’t a no.

---

“Can I get you another one, Mr. McNaught?” the server asked, bending down to look me in the eye. Of course, as she did, her breasts swung down just barely contained by the skimpy top. It was an interesting view.

“No, thanks,” I answered, doing my best to keep my eyes on hers. “But you might want to see if Miss Benson needs anything, Sonya.” Okay, I did glance down at her badge. I had to be polite, right?

“I’m fine, thank you,” Allison said again with a hint of amusement.

“The service has certainly improved around here since yesterday,” she added dryly after Sonya had left. “I think that’s the third time this hour Sonya has been by.” I started to say something, but she continued before I could: “And of course, there was Debbie and then Marsha; you must look very thirsty today.”

“The service here is very good,” I muttered uncomfortably.

“Uh-huh,” she peered at me over her sunshades again. “Who are you? Do you own this thing or what?”

“Who me? Not a chance,” I scoffed. “I’m just another pensioner. The closest I ever get to a boat owner is when I help the captain out with some of his charters.”

“Well, you sure have something that’s caught their attention,” she said. “I mean, you are kind of cute in a caveman sort of way, but to have all these girls throwing themselves at you... I don’t see it; no offense intended.”

“None taken,” I laughed. “Let’s just say my friends and I did the ship a little favor, and they’re just being nice to us as a way of saying thank-you.”

“That must be some kind of favor,” Allison said, sitting up in the lounger. “That girl wanted you in the worst way possible; I could smell her over here.”

“I’m sure you’re mistaken,” I mumbled and pushed my own sunshades back up as far as they could go.

“Okay, so you’re not going to tell me about this favor, yet,” she said, swinging her legs around and facing me. “So who is this captain you mentioned, and what do you mean by charters? You’re not talking about the captain of this ship, are you?”

“No, not at all,” I laughed again. I told her about Danny Mayhem and the rest of my team. About how we went through the war together and were still together even now. I left out all the gruesome stuff and a lot of other stuff also, but then it’s hard to condense eighteen years of living in just a few paragraphs without leaving out a hell of a lot. Besides, quite a bit of it was personal, our business.

“Wow, and you’re still all together after all this time? That’s something else,” she mused. “I’ve never had friends like that.” I agreed silently; I’m not sure anybody ever did. “So now you’re what? Just a bum taking cruises and hitting on young mothers around the pool?”

“I am retired,” I answered, trying to sound offended. “I’m just trying to live out my golden years in peace and tranquility.” Then I sighed, “But I suppose I’ll have to find something to do sooner or later; everybody else seems to be.”

“I’m sure your wife or girlfriend would love for you to get a job,” she said with a grin.

“Don’t have either one of those,” I stated flatly. “I wouldn’t have asked you to dinner if I did. I don’t know about all wives, but the ones I know sort of frown on their husbands dating.”

“I haven’t noticed that stopping most of the men I know,” she frowned.

“Men can be assholes,” I grunted in agreement. “So now you know all about me; what about Miss Allison Benson, mother extraordinaire and beauty queen? What do you do other than get up and look gorgeous all day?”

“Well, what do you think I do?” she asked, arching her eyebrows. I know she did that because I could see them above her sunshades.

“Well,” I paused, taking the pleasure of studying her. “Right now, I’d have to guess swimsuit model or dancer. But hell, you could be anything from a doctor to a cop.”

“Ah, dancer actually,” she sounded a bit flustered.

“With those legs, you’d be a natural,” I nodded. “Ballet?”

“With these things,” she laughed, pointing to her breasts. “I’d fall over and bounce back up!” She paused for a moment and then very seriously said, “No, I dance in a gentleman’s club in Tucson.” She took her sunshades off and looked at me like she was daring me to say anything.

“I’ll bet you’re their star attraction,” I said, nodding again.

“I suppose we are,” she said slowly, slipping her sunshades back on.

“We?”

“My sister and I dance together,” she answered.

“My God! If she looks anything like you, that must be one hell of an act!” I blurted out. “Oops, sorry.”

“That’s okay,” she chuckled. “I suppose we are, and yes, she looks a lot like me. Actually, I guess I look a lot like her since she’s older.”

“Look,” she said, swinging her legs around towards me again. “I may take my clothes off up on stage, but I don’t do it anywhere else. I know everybody thinks us strippers are an easy lay, but I don’t do that, so you can forget it if that’s what you’re thinking. If you don’t want to have dinner with us, I can understand, but nothing is going to happen other than that.”

“Okay,” I said. “Is eighteen hundred hours good for you? I’ll pick you up at your cabin if that’s all right.”

“What?” she sounded surprised. “Oh, yeah, I suppose that would be fine. Our cabin is...”

“I’ll find it,” I said, waving her off. “Should I make reservations for three or four? If your sister is here, she’s welcome to join us.”

“No, she’s back in Tucson.”

“Okay, for three it is,” I nodded. “But I think we’d better get the kiddo out of the pool before he falls asleep.” Jeremy was sitting in the shallow end, kind of draped over his ball. “Stay there. I’ll get him.” Allison started to protest, but I waved her down and went over to retrieve the munchkin. He’d played himself out and really was about to fall asleep. When I picked him up, he put his head on my shoulder and kind of went limp.

“I think this one needs some sleepy-time,” I said when I brought him back. I tossed her the ball. “Tell you what, you carry this, and I’ll carry him. Just lead the way.” She took one look at the dead weight on my shoulder and thanked me.

“Reservations?” she asked as we took a lift into the bowels of the ship. “I didn’t think you needed reservations to eat onboard.”

“You do where we’re going,” I grinned as we stopped in front of their cabin. “Dress nice, I think you’ll like it.”

“But where...?” I shook my head and cut her off.

“My surprise,” I said. “Just dress nice.”

“Well, okay,” she sounded apprehensive. “But remember what I said earlier...”

“I know. You set the ground rules, and I accept them,” I said quickly. “But I can keep my fantasies, can’t I?”

“You can fantasize all you want,” she chuckled. “But that’s all it’ll be, mister.”

“Good, I don’t think you could stop me anyway, but it’s nice to have permission. I’ll pick you up here.”

Chapter 2

-Tampa-

“Whatever are you fretting about, Bradley?” Grace Duev asked from under her big pink floppy hat. She had pulled her sunshades down and was peering at him over the rims with her gray eyes.

“Nothing, Grace,” he responded while moving again in his lounger, putting the lie to his answer.

“Bullshit,” Patricia added, and Brad’s eyes swerved to look at her. “You’re squirming like a slug on a hot rock. What put a burr up your shorts?”

“Maybe it’s too hot for him,” Samantha Roebling interjected, and his head swerved again to where she was slathering some sort of skin gel on her legs. Grace snickered, and Sam hastily added, “The sun, of course! The sun is too hot.”

The sun was hot, as was typical of an afternoon on the Tampa beaches, but that wasn’t what was bothering Brad; that was the least of his worries. The sun was hot as it beat down on his skin, but what bothered him were the three extremely hot ladies he had sitting around him, wearing... well, damn near nothing! Grace’s hot pink suit was the most modest - if that’s what you could call it - of the three, seeing as it was at least a one-piece. A skin-tight one-piece that looked more like paint than fabric and left only enough to the imagination to really drive a male crazy. Grace was a big woman, tall that is, and generously proportioned to match her height. Shiny brown hair, long legs, wide hips, a relatively narrow waist, and breasts that were not so proportional. Maybe if she were three meters tall, he thought to himself. By any stretch of the imagination, they were large and spectacularly firm. Not that he knew that from personal experience, but he did have eyes.

By contrast, Samantha Roebling was a tiny little thing. In normal heels, the top of her head barely reached Brad’s chin when they were standing. She was slight without being truly thin, although even without the flowing red hair and huge green eyes, there would be no mistaking her for a boy in a dark alley. She was like a tiny, perfect, and fragile fairy and always made Brad feel like some sort of hulking, Neanderthal brute next to her. She was completely different from the earth-mother Grace and yet just as sexy and desirable. Brad was sure that any man staring into those huge sea-green eyes would be a lost cause in a matter of minutes. He knew he was.

Patricia Henderson was the middle volume in this saga of extremes. Neither tall nor short, and neither too large nor too small; the same modifiers could be used for either her weight or her figure: in both, she was perfectly average. Brad could never have used that word to describe her face, though. To him, she seemed to meld the features of all the beautiful women he had ever known into one seemingly perfect composite. Wonderful blonde hair, bright blue eyes; even the slight crinkly lines that formed at the corners of her mouth when she smiled drove him to distraction. All that and she had what he could only think to call elegance, a certain style and grace that drew the eye when she moved; or even stood still for that matter; or even when she was lounging on the beach, one perfect leg stuck straight out, toes pointed, and the other slightly drawn up... He shuddered slightly.

Bradley Miller had known these women for only a few short months, and at the end of that time, he knew for certain only one thing: He was in love with all three of them. Fucking no-dating policy, he swore to himself for the thousandth time. But just as the thought came, the second followed just as surely: Yes, the policy sucked, but there was a damn good reason for it. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, there were men - and women - out there who would think nothing of taking advantage of these three beautiful, lonely, and vulnerable women if they had the chance. He wasn’t going to be one of those people. Besides, how could he possibly choose between them? He couldn’t, he knew that. What could he possibly do? Play the alleycat and date all three of them? He couldn’t, wouldn’t do that. It was a foregone conclusion they would all end up hating him, and in the realm of unacceptable outcomes, that was the worst of the lot. Suffering in silence seemed the best option, although it killed him inside.

“Hello in there...” someone called.

“What? Oh, I’m sorry, did you say something?” he grunted. “I must have dozed off.”

“Sure you did,” Grace chuckled. Brad reddened slightly and hoped they hadn’t been able to follow his eyes behind his sunshades as they’d roamed over their exquisitely exposed flesh. “We were talking about what was bugging you,” she continued. “And don’t tell us it’s nothing. We can tell.”

“Great!” he joked. “Now I have three mind readers. I’ll have no secrets left.”

“That’s right, Mr. Miller, we read you like a book. So what gives?” The voice was demanding, but the eyes peering at him over the rim of her sunshades sparkled with amusement.

“I’m not sure I like this,” he protested. “A man should have some mystery about him. You know: the tall, dark, silent type. Women like that, you know.”

“Don’t worry, Bradley, honey,” Sam chimed in. “We can pretend we don’t notice; but you have to tell us anyway.” For some reason, all three of them had been adding little terms of endearment when they talked to him; it was kind of unnerving, but he wasn’t going to complain about it.

“Well...” he started. “I guess I don’t feel like I’m doing my job just sitting here on the beach surrounded by beautiful women sucking down beers. I feel like I should be doing something.”

“Oh, is that all,” Patricia said, waving his worry away. “You don’t have a job; you have a hobby. If it were a job, they’d pay you for it.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, trying not to sound hurt. “But I take it seriously. Maybe the VBS isn’t paying me, but what they do is important, and I want to do it to the best of my ability.”

“Of course, you do,” Pat responded soothingly. “That didn’t come out right anyway. I know it’s not just a hobby to you, and you have no idea what it’s meant to us. Let me put it another way, a better way, I hope. Just what is your job?”

“Ah, to look after the families I’ve been assigned to,” he answered quickly.

“Very commendable,” she nodded with a smile. “And just who are these families who are now under your protection?”

“Well, you are, and Grace and Samantha,” he grunted. “And Matt and David. Of course, there’re Charlene and Melissa and Patty; Phyllis and Donald, and Matt’s two little girls...”

“I’m beginning to notice a pattern here, don’t you?” Patricia grinned and looked around. “Pretty much everybody you’re supposed to be riding herd on is right here, aren’t they?”

“Well...” Brad frowned. True, Charlene, Patricia’s oldest, and her two sisters, along with Phyllis, Samantha’s only girl, were cavorting in the surf not fifty meters away from them. Donald, Grace’s fifteen-year-old problem child, was supposedly at a football summer camp for the day; he made a mental note to check up on that, while Matt’s two girls were with his fiancé while he was at work. David was somewhere on some trip with his lover; Brad hardly ever saw him anymore.

“I would say you’re doing your job right now, making sure we are well taken care of,” she smirked. “Although I will say the service does leave something to be desired, slave. You haven’t offered me one of those beers in over half an hour.” She pointed to the cooler sitting almost directly between them.

“Oh yes, Mistress!” he shouted, jumping up. “Right away, Mistress!” Kneeling next to the cooler, he reached in and pulled one out that was covered with condensation. “I hope the temperature meets with your approval,” he said, wiping the chilled water off the bottle and flinging the droplets over her. She squealed and giggled as she held her hands up to protect herself. “Anyone else?” he asked.

“Sure,” Grace answered. “But without the shower, please.”

“Well, since you said please,” he said solemnly as he handed one to Patricia and Grace. Samantha shook her head and took a sip of water.

“So you think we’re pretty, huh?” Samantha asked playfully as she took another sip of water.

“I said beautiful, not pretty,” Brad chuckled. Leave it to a woman to pick up on that little comment. “You three know you’re knockouts and don’t try to bullshit an old bullshiter by trying to tell me you’re not. I still can’t figure out why the three of you don’t have men about three deep panting all over you.

“Why, I do believe that was a compliment, ladies,” Grace chuckled back at him. “Nah, we know we aren’t ugly, but we know perfectly well why nobody is interested in us. What we can’t figure out is how a hunky young stud like you hasn’t been snatched up by some pretty sweet thing.”

“Well, I’ve kind of been at loose ends since the end of the war,” he shrugged. “I’ve never stayed in one place long enough, I suppose. I’ve never found any place I wanted to stay before.” Brad was staring off into the surf, idly watching the children play, so he didn’t see the women’s reaction when he said “before.” Nearly as one, their heads swiveled until their eyes were locked onto his face, and each one of them had the almost identical sly smile on her lips. Those sly smiles instantly transformed into more casual grins when Brad shifted his attention from the ocean back to the women. “But we weren’t talking about me, so stop changing the topic. Grace, what do you mean all of you know why nobody is interested in you? I sure as hell can’t figure it out.”

“You are such a sweetie,” she cooed. “I think we’ll keep you. It’s pretty simple, stud: We’re old, and we have kids.”

“For one thing, you’re not old,” he immediately shot back, “and what do your kids have to do with it? I remember Pat mentioning something about that before. I didn’t understand it then, and I don’t now.”

“It’s pretty simple, Brad,” Samantha spoke, and he turned to look at her. “There are a lot more women than there are men, especially at our age, and the men can pretty much have their pick. Most pick younger, prettier girls who don’t already have children. I suppose they figure if they’re going to have kids, they’ll have their own and not bother raising someone else’s.”

“That’s stupid!” Brad protested. “For one thing, they may go for younger women, but I can guarantee they couldn’t find any prettier. As for the other...” he shook his head sadly. “That’s just as stupid. Your kids are great, all three of you.” He glanced at Grace and cocked his head, and continued talking before she could protest: “Even Donald, Grace. Yeah, he’s been a pain in the ass to you, but really, he’s not a bad kid. He just hasn’t anybody to set his boundaries for him. I don’t know about girls, but boys really need someone to set boundaries for them, or they start to go feral. It’s not your fault, Grace. Shoot, I wouldn’t have any idea how to raise girls; the very thought scares the crap out of me. But boys, I understand; I was one.

“I know it sounds stupid or maybe arrogant coming from a guy that doesn’t have any kids,” he continued. “But at least I can look back at what my old man did to me, and even though I hated it at the time, I can now see where everything he did was necessary. Wish I could thank that son-of-a-bitch for it now.

“Anyway,” he said, looking back and forth between Patricia and Samantha, “your girls are nothing but angels. I can’t believe any man worth the powder to blow his nose wouldn’t be proud and happy to help you raise them. Besides,” he said with a final shrug, “it’s not like any of you are anywhere close to being too old to have more if that’s what the two of you want.” He bent down and grabbed another beer for himself before returning to his chair, and in doing so, missed another meaningful exchange of glances from the ladies surrounding him; this time, it was between the three of them.

“Thanks. We think they’re pretty special also,” Patricia started casually. “So, you’re thinking of sticking around the Tampa area for a while? You said you’d never found a place you wanted to stay before. Does that mean you like it here?”

“Well, the weather isn’t bad, and the scenery is fantastic,” he said, giving each of them an exaggerated leer, which caused all three of them to giggle. “But seriously, I do kind of like it. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that a place is just a place; it’s the people that make the difference. Here, there are people I can help; good people just like you three that not only need the help but deserve it. Then, of course, there’s working with the captain...” he sighed and shook his head while looking down at the sand. “Shit, I’d move to hell if that’s what it took to be part of any organization he was running. Oops, pardon my language. Still trying to break bad habits.”

“I think you can say shit in front of us, Brad,” Grace said dryly. “The one good thing about being old is we’ve already heard all the naughty words and won’t faint if we hear them again. In fact, at one time or another, we actually use them: shit, piss, fuck-”

“I know that, Grace,” Brad cut her off quickly and grinned. “I just don’t want to get in the habit of doing it again because I don’t want to say them in front of the kids. But I am getting a little tired of you calling yourself old. I’m beginning to think that maybe you’re not too - mature - to be put over my knee and put a tanning on that butt of yours.”

“Good God! You think making me that kind of promise is going to stop me?” she challenged. Suddenly, she sat upright and started chanting, “Old, old, old, ooold...”

“Grace! Behave yourself,” Patricia laughed. “You’re making the poor man blush.” Grace stuck her tongue out at Pat but settled back into her lounger with a smirk. “Forgive her, Brad; she’s incorrigible.”

“I can see what you mean by Mr. Mayhem, though,” she continued, changing the subject after giving Grace another stern look. Grace just gave her another smirk and rolled over onto her stomach, giving the aforementioned body part an exaggerated wiggle in the process.

“Christ, you three are going to kill me,” Brad muttered and rolled his eyes skyward.

“Anyway,” Patricia said again, a little louder. “If we can leave high school behind for now, I was going to say I think Mr. Mayhem is rather impressive. I can see you wanting to work with him.”

“You’ve met the captain?” Brad asked, sounding surprised.

“Once or twice,” Pat nodded absently. “Down at the VBS offices, and of course, we were invited to the wedding. Did you forget that?”

“No,” he said simply. He remembered quite vividly. If looking sexy could kill, all three of them would have been brought up on charges of manslaughter. “But what were you doing down at the offices?”

“I told you we wanted to see if there was anything we could do to help, and we had a few questions about a few things,” she waved absently. “He seems to be a very nice man; very intense but very dedicated to what he believes in.”

“Another example of a man our age snagging up two younger women,” Grace quipped.

“I’m not so sure he was the one doing the snagging,” Brad chuckled. “I have it from a ... ah ... reliable source that he wasn’t the one doing all the chasing. Not that he ran all that fast if you know what I mean,” he admitted. “I know I sure wouldn’t have.”

“He chased them until they caught him,” Grace nodded, looking back over her shoulder at him. “As it should be. Still, they are much younger than he is. At least he does have that wicked-looking one also; at least she’s about our age if I’m not mistaken.”

“Who? Mike?” he gasped. “I can guarantee nothing like that is going on between the two of them!” He winced, remembering his own slightly ribald inference to just such a liaison and the resulting elbows to certain tender portions of his torso. His mistaken impression had been swiftly and thoroughly (read painfully) corrected. “Believe me, he has no eyes except for his wives, and if any other woman should try ... Well, Sumalee can get downright nasty like you wouldn’t believe, and Lidia ain’t too shabby in her own right. Not that I understand any of it anyway,” he said, shaking his head.

“What don’t you understand?” Samantha asked, looking puzzled. “That they could be interested in him or he interested in them?”

“Neither actually,” he replied. “Well, I have to admit I don’t understand what any woman would see in any man, but then I never did see what attracts you ladies to us. I’m not exactly wired that way. No, it’s the two girls and one guy thing.

“Now, don’t get me wrong,” he said quickly, holding up his hands. “Being with two beautiful women like that is every guy’s fantasy. I just don’t understand how it could work. I mean, they seem to be about the three happiest people I know, but how do you do that without getting jealous? There is no fuc ... Ah, no damn way I could ever share a girl with another guy. I don’t give a sh ... damn, who she is. I’d rather be alone. I just couldn’t do it.”

“I can understand it,” Samantha nodded. “Maybe it’s just because men and women are, as you say, wired differently.”

“So, do you have fantasies of having more than one woman, Bradley?” she asked sweetly. “You did say it’s every man’s fantasy.”

“I refuse to answer on the grounds it would incriminate and embarrass the crap out of me,” Brad mumbled. He could feel his ears burning. Samantha was usually the quietest and shyest of the three, but there were times when in her own sweet way, she could embarrass him like Grace’s blatantly ribald comments never could.

“Samantha, now you stop it! You’re as bad as Grace sometimes,” Patricia scolded.

“Ooh, I’m a bad example,” Grace twittered happily. Brad chuckled, and Patricia rolled her eyes.

“Well, if you three are finished embarrassing me to death, I have an appointment I need to be at in an hour,” he said, standing up. “You want me to help carry some of this back to the tram station?”

“We’ll be fine,” Patricia reassured him. “The kids are having fun, so we’ll probably stay for a little while longer. You have any plans for tomorrow night?”

“Not that I know of,” he shrugged.

“Good. The three of us are planning to take you out to dinner,” she said with a tone of voice that made it clear it was assumed he was both agreeable and available. “We’ll meet at my place at 6:00.”

“That’s not necessary,” he replied back quickly. “And ... ah ... I’m not sure it’s even allowed.”

“What? That no-dating rule?” she asked. “I hardly think with all three of us it could be considered a date. Or is it that you don’t want to be seen in public with three old women?”

“I’d better warn you the punishment for using the word ‘old’ doesn’t just go for Grace,” he frowned, shaking his finger at her. “Your bottom is just as vulnerable as hers. That goes for you too, Mrs. Roebling. It’s not that I wouldn’t want to be seen in public with you three, it’s more I’m afraid I’d be showing off. No, it’s just that I’m not sure how the VBS would look at it; they’re pretty strict, you know. I saw one rep that had to be reminded about the rules,” he paused and shuddered a little, “and I’m not anxious to go through the refresher course. I’m not saying going out to dinner with three of the prettiest ladies in Tampa isn’t worth a broken arm, but...”

“Really? Someone had his arm broken for ... ungentlemanly conduct?” Grace gasped and flipped over onto her back. “What the hell did he do?”

“I won’t get into that,” Brad shook his head. “But suffice it to say what we do is really an honor and a privilege, and ‘ungentlemanly conduct,’ as you so delicately put it, won’t be tolerated. We were told up front what would happen if we strayed, and I heartily agree with it. The temptation is just too great.” He paused again and frowned, “Especially if any of the other reps have clients like you three.”

“Why thank you, Bradley,” Samantha grinned. “But you don’t have to worry. We already got the okay from the VBS. They, or should I say he, is perfectly all right with us taking you out for dinner.”

“It is?” Brad’s jaw dropped with surprise. “You mean the captain said it’s okay?”

“Yes, he did,” Patricia added. “So is there some other reason you can’t go that you can think of?”

“Ah, no. I suppose not...”

“Good. We’ll see you at my place at 1800 then?” she continued quickly.

“Ah, sure, I’ll be there,” he mumbled, looking a little like a pole-axed steer. “I’m just going to say bye to the kids and be off then.”

“Christ, Grace!” Patricia exclaimed as they watched him walk up to the tram line, stop, and climb aboard. “I thought you were going to rip off your suit and fuck him right here on the beach.”

“You don’t know how close I came, Pat,” Grace growled. “If we don’t do something soon, I’m going to rape that man. It’s been weeks since we got Lord Almighty God to give us that exemption from that stupid no-dating policy, and I’m about to explode!”

“You know we have to go slow,” Pat said firmly. “He’s just too nice a guy, and if we’re not careful, we’ll scare him off. You don’t want that, do you? If we come on too strong, we’re going to scare him, and he’ll be out of here like a cat with its tail on fire. Besides,” she smiled, “he’s sniffed around the bait enough now. Tomorrow night, we start to tighten the noose.”

“You make it sound like we’re trying to trap him,” Samantha frowned. “It makes me feel a little dishonest or something.”

“Baby girl,” Grace chuckled, “we are trapping him. What do you think women have been doing with their men since Eve enticed Adam with the apple? You’ve been married before; are you telling me you didn’t let your husband seduce you?” Sam frowned a little but didn’t disagree. “We’re just a little older and not up to playing the same games. I don’t know about you, but I don’t have the patience for it. I want that man, and I want him now. Damn right I’m going to trap him; all three of us are going to trap him. And let me tell you this: When we finally get him trapped, tagged, bagged, and broke to saddle, he’s going to be the happiest stud in the pasture, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life making that come true.”

“While I wouldn’t put it quite so eloquently,” Patricia laughed, “I have to agree. We know he’s interested, right?” Samantha nodded. “So we really have only two major obstacles to overcome. First, we have to convince him we’re not just doing this because we’re grateful because he’s helped us.”

“Or that the only thing we’re after is his nice, fat cock pinning us to a mattress, making us scream in ecstasy,” Grace interjected.

“Would you stop that?” Patricia scolded again. “We all know you’re horny, but he is more than just a cock.” Grace smirked but noticed both Pat and Sam pressed their thighs together and crossed their legs.

“Now, where was I before I was so crudely interrupted? And for your information, slut, I don’t scream; I sigh deeply when I achieve my release.”

“Sure, honey,” Grace chuckled. “Just make sure he wears ear protection so your sighs don’t require a trip to the doc for replacement eardrums.” Pat stuck her tongue out at her.

“Anyway,” Pat continued, giving Grace a stern look. “The second and probably the hardest part is going to be convincing him the three of us are actually willing to share him. You heard him: He doesn’t believe it can happen.” She sighed, “Actually, I’m not sure we can either. I’ve never done this before, so I don’t really know how I’m going to feel about it. Intellectually, I can think about it and accept it, but I don’t know how I’ll actually feel. Will I be able to accept the fact that he’s somewhere pinning Grace to that mattress? I don’t know. I think so, but I just don’t know.”

“None of us do, Pat,” Grace said, seriously for once. “But I think he’s worth giving it a try. I know it may end up being a total disaster like Mayhem was afraid it might, but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t at least try.”

---

“Holy shit!” Brad’s jaw dropped when Patricia opened the door to his signal. She was wearing a simple black dress that fit her perfectly, although by most standards it would have been considered rather conservative since the hem reached down to mid-thigh and there was only a tantalizing touch of cleavage exposed. Her golden hair fell to her shoulders, and her blue eyes sparkled at his exclamation. “Uh, sorry,” he mumbled.

“I take it this is acceptable?” she stated more than asked. “I’ve had it for ages, and I’m just glad it still fits. I haven’t been able to update my wardrobe lately, unfortunately,” she grimaced ruefully.

“It’s ... perfect!” he said as he stepped through the doorway. Tearing his eyes away from her, he glanced around and saw Samantha and Grace standing a few meters away.

“Holy shit!” he gasped again. Samantha and Grace were wearing similar dresses, although Sam’s was emerald green, setting off her red hair, and Grace’s was a shimmery iridescent, which defied his ability to determine its exact color. The thing the two dresses had in common was the fact that they were modest along the same lines as Pat’s and hugged their bodies like a paint film.

“You three are going to cause a fucking riot!” he continued. He forgot to apologize for his profanity.

“Thank you,” Samantha grinned as she strutted over to him and reached up on tip-toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. Grace gave him a hug and did the same, although she didn’t need to go up on her toes to do it.

“So not too bad for an old broad?” Grace asked, striking a pose.

“You’re pushing it, lady,” Brad growled, his warning, but she just grinned back at him.

“Come on, you three,” Patricia said, herding them out the door. “We have reservations.”

---

“Nice place, and the chow ain’t bad either,” Brad said, patting his stomach as he pushed back away from the table.

“I’ve never seen anybody eat that much before,” Samantha whispered, her eyes wide with awe.

“Yeah, well, I’ve always been a bit of a pig,” he grinned sheepishly. “I’d like to say it was from my time in the army, but the truth is I’ve always been what Momma called a healthy eater. Dad used to say, just keep your hands and feet away from my mouth, and everything would be perfectly fine.”

“Did you get enough?” Pat smiled, and he did look a little embarrassed when he nodded.

“More than enough,” he assured her. “Although I didn’t know you could get seconds in a place like this. I hope they didn’t charge you extra. I already feel bad enough that you three are spending money on me tonight. I don’t know how you can afford it.”

“They won’t, don’t worry,” she waved him off. “And as far as we were concerned, it’s money well spent. We’ve been able to put a little bit away, what with the help you and the VBS have given us, so you are ordered not to worry about it, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, bracing up as much as he could while still sitting down.

“But now that you’re nice and full and not able to move very fast, we have some serious business to discuss with you,” Pat continued.

“Uh-oh, that doesn’t sound good,” he frowned.

“We’ll see,” she said as she stared at him with her bright blue eyes. The other two women did the same while leaning towards him just slightly. “The three of us are now in better positions than we have been in years. Where we once had nothing but bleak futures to dread, we now can see at least a glimmer of hope.” He started to say something, but she held up a hand, cutting him off. “Please, let me finish. Like I said, where we once had nothing to look forward to, now we do.”

“You’ve given that to us, and there is no way we can thank you.” The hand went back up when he started to protest again, silencing him. “But while each of us can now at least look to the future without utter despair, it still looks like a lonely one, and we’ve decided to do something about that. Each of us has decided we are going to start dating again and make no mistake about it; it’s with the view of finding someone with whom we can spend the rest of our lives. What do you think about that?”

“Oh, well, that’s great,” he said with obviously forced enthusiasm.

“You don’t seem to think it’s a wonderful idea,” Grace said with a sly smile.

“Oh no, it really is a great idea,” he protested. “The thought of any one of you being alone is, well ... unthinkable. You three are the nicest, most wonderful people I know, not to mention being incredibly beautiful. It would be a crime if you couldn’t share that with someone to love. Any man should feel damn well blessed with any one of you by his side. It’s just that ... Well, damn it, I’m going to be jealous as hell of those lucky guys. I’m going to miss my three best girls.”

“We were sort of hoping you’d say something like that,” Patricia continued, reaching out to grab one of his hands. “You see, we’ve already picked the guy we want, and that guy is you!”

“What?” he squeaked, looking rapidly from one to the other like a mouse cornered by three cats. “Me? But, but ... But I couldn’t!” he finally exclaimed.

“Why not? I thought you liked us,” Samantha cried, her eyes starting to glisten.

“Like you? Hell yes, I like you,” he practically exploded. “But that’s the problem! I could never choose between the three of you! I just couldn’t!

“Oh, is that all?” Patricia said, giggling a little hysterically with relief. “I thought it was something important, like we were too old for you. No, you don’t get it, sweetie; we don’t want you to pick one of us, we want you to pick all three of us.”

“What?” he squeaked again. “All three of you? You and me?”

“Does that scare you?” Grace asked.

“Terrifies the shit out of me is more like it,” he snorted, then saw the looks of concern on their faces. “Whoa, back up, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s almost like the three of you have been looking in on my dreams, well, fantasies anyway,” he admitted sheepishly.

“You’ve been fantasizing about the three of us?” Grace asked with an evil grin.

“Well, maybe, a little anyway,” he blushed.

“Oh, you are so cute when you do that,” she chuckled, reaching out to grab the hand Patricia wasn’t. “I think I can say it makes us glad to hear you have been; I know we have about you.”

“Down, girl,” Samantha laughed and reached out to intertwine her fingers under the hand she could reach. For a minute, they all just sat there grinning like idiots at each other.

“Shit!” Brad finally sighed. “Could something like that actually work though? I mean, three girls and one guy? How... I mean... Well, wouldn’t it be...?”

“Then there’s the VBS,” he frowned. “I suppose I could quit...”

“No need, baby,” Patricia said, sliding a piece of paper toward him with her free hand. “The VBS - or at least Dan Mayhem, which is really the same thing - doesn’t have a problem with it.” Reluctantly releasing her hand, he drew the paper towards him and read the short message.

“How in the hell did you get this?” he finally said after trying to make intelligible sounds a few times.

“We just had to ask nicely,” Patricia smirked. “We talked to Mr. Mayhem, explained what we wanted, and he generously agreed to let us give it a try.”

“But you don’t even know if we’re compatible,” Brad protested as Patricia retook his hand. “I mean, you may think you know me, and we’ve spent some time together, but not really like that. And again, there are the three girls and one guy. Sure, it’s my dream, but you’d have to,” he blushed again, “share me. I couldn’t do it. I don’t know how you could.”

“Haven’t you noticed the three of us have been spending a lot of time together?” Grace interjected. “That’s a question we had also, and so we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well. We each think we can live with it, if not actually enjoy it. Honestly, as far as I’m concerned, having one-third of the best man I’ve met in decades sounds like one hell of a deal to me.”