9781618857569GettingitAllStorm (25 page)

It had seemed reasonable to suggest a
hiatus. It had seemed mature and certainly a good example for Lucy. If the
three of them were going to live together, there had to be her female,
hard-gained adult knowledge to contrast with Lucy's still impetuous youth.

She had never really understood how males
thought. Did males even? Matt's contribution to her “let's take a break to
catch our breaths” wouldn't really have mattered once Dorothy had made up her
panic mode mind.

That's what she realized now. If the
ménage thing was truly going to work, she was going to have to change her way
of thinking. They were all going to have to be in on a major decision right
from the beginning.

That's what she realized now.

If it wasn't too
late.

“Well, I think you’re extremely wise to
question the social implications of what you three are suggesting, Dorothy.”
Marta's smug tone cut more deeply than Lucy's tremulous insecurity. “The town
may be changing, but there are some things that we’re just not ready for, yet.”

“Marta, don’t you understand? The three
of us could live on an island alone and be totally content. The town has little
to do with what’s upsetting us. We’re
what’s
upsetting
us. We’re just not sure now and before we were and we just don’t know how to deal
with that.”

“Well, what does Matt say?” Another older
woman waiting for a styling asked.

“We don’t really know. That was the idea.
That we not be in communication for a week, so we wouldn’t be influenced by the
others.”

“Except I couldn’t stand it,” Lucy
sniffed. “The thought that what we had might not continue just broke my heart.
I called Dorothy.” Her deep sigh was heart-breaking. “She held me off for a
couple of days and then today I began to break down at the office. I told
Carmen it was my period.” She looked around. “Sorry. I don’t even have bad
periods.”

“More than likely Mr. Bartholomew is
crowing with his cronies about his impending harem rather than questioning its
propriety,” Marta sniffed. “I mentioned it to my dear Milton and he looked
positively envious for a moment.”

Dorothy dearly hoped so. She would hate
for Milton to be going through the hell that they were putting themselves
through now.
Any more than the hell he was normally put
through by his loving wife.

A young
woman
who had been sitting quietly listening to the back and forth arguments, spoke
up.

“I thought there were even more of you
involved. Not just the three of you. All the gossip was that Mr. Bartholomew
was dating a whole bunch. Wasn’t Christy Swanson involved? What happened to
her?”

Amelia guffawed. “Christy’s the one who
started this whole thing. She’s the one thought up the bet to get Matt back in
the dating business.
Looks like once things got a little too
hot, she just hot-footed herself out of harm's way.
That's our Christy.”

Dot found
herself
at least still able to smile. “Christy decided she’s too possessive to share,
bless her. She bowed out. And then she met some guys who invited her down to a
convention in Florida. That’s where she
is,
hanging
around the Gulf with two, count ‘em, two very handsome and very sexy dudes at
her beck and call.
So much for out of harm's way.”

All the ladies whooped except Marta and
one of the other more socially conscious women.

Even Lucy grinned, wiping her tears with
a styling cape. “I’ll bet if she were here right now, she’d have figured out
what to do in no time flat.”

“Probably took one look at you two
doubting your instincts and moved right into Matt’s house, cutting you both
out,”
Brunnie
smirked. “And I can’t say as I would
blame her. If I were…thirty…forty years younger myself…”

Everyone laughed.

Dorothy felt somewhat lighter. Even Lucy
seemed to be on the mend…or at least not wailing. Maybe the first indication of
getting better was a forceful reminder that they would survive no matter what.

Brunnie
was up and
tottering on her high heels. She motioned to Dot to get Lucy.

“I need a bit of air,” she announced to
no one in particular as the conversation turned on re-examining Christy’s
exploits.

Outside, Dorothy and Lucy bracketed the
still-elegant old lady as they slowly moved down the street.

“Thanks,
Brunnie
,
I was beginning—”

“What could be the worse thing that would
happen?”

Dorothy glanced over at Lucy.

“I suppose everything would go on as it’s
been going on,” Lucy murmured.

“You’d all keep seeing each other?”

“Uh…probably.
We seem to enjoy
each other’s company.”

Dorothy nodded in agreement. Suddenly
their concern did seem overblown.

“Good. I thought it might just be nerves.
Do you two girls want this to happen?”

“Well, yes,” Lucy said.
“Of, course.
Right, Dorothy?”

“I’ve been miserable these last few
days.”

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“I’m stubborn, Lucy.
And
bone-headed sometimes.
You’ll have to learn to live with that.”

“Or you could change it.”
Brunnie
lifted a finely drawn eyebrow. “If an old gal like
me can try new tricks, then a young pup like you can be taught ‘em.
Stop being so blessed bone-headed, Dorothy.
You’ve been
around the block too many times not to have learned how smart you are. You’re a
survivor. And you, sweet Missy,” she turned to Lucy. “Stop with all the
wailing. Most of us in that room would change places with you in a shot. You’re
pretty and clever and apparently desirable to both your lovers. Live with it.”
She smirked. “Or you both can remind Matt that I’m available. Now, give your
man a call.”

“But…we were supposed to wait…”

“Now.”

The waterworks burst forth from Lucy
again. “Oh,
Brunnie
, you’ve saved our lives.”

“No, sweet thing, I’ve saved your ménage.
How you live your lives is up to you.”

* * * *

A few miles distant, Matt was trying to
save his position as boss, as Buddy and Waco glared, muscular arms folded
stubbornly, confronting him in his office.

“You’ve been a fucking bastard these last
few days and the men have appointed us to either ram a fucking tie rod up your
ass or tell you to go fuck off and try and run the shop yourself.”

“Or both.”
Waco added to
the shop manager’s announcement.

Matt returned their glares, his face hot
with anger. His men seldom if ever rebelled. He prided himself on being a good
boss…a great boss. He wanted his reputation of fairness and decent pay to
spread throughout
CoveHaven
without his making a fuss
about it. Matt’s Motors was successful because he hired competent mechanics and
paid them well. It wasn’t a success because he was a pussy when it came to
standing up for his principals.

Which were
…

“It’s ‘
cause
you’re not fucking enough and us and the guys want you back in action,” Waco
laconically intoned.

“What the hell happened between you and
the girls?” Buddy pressed for a response. “You were the dude, the boss. The
whole town was excited for you.”

Matt gulped oxygen for a moment, then
decided it was time to get the whole mess into the open. He truly hadn’t
realized…okay, he had realized he was being a shit, but nobody had called him
on it and he had to take his frustration out on somebody.

“It was my fault. I didn’t want to give
either one of them up. That must have scared them. Dorothy suggested we take a
break to think things over.”

“What things? You were fucking good,
right?” Buddy did know how to lay it out.

Matt’s face flamed. “I suggested...well,
we all suggested...and agreed that we all move in together. Maybe...maybe I
wanted it too much. Maybe I pushed too hard.”

Buddy beamed.
“The
three of you?
Whoa! That’s hot.”

“A ménage a
troyis
,”
Waco announced proudly, pronouncing every syllable and consonant. “Man, that’s
like…French. Cool.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe they don’t think so
now that they’ve had the chance to think about it. Maybe they think I’m some
kind of pervert or something. I mean, what would the town think if we did such
a thing out in the open? How would they hold their heads up?”

“How’re you holding yours up?” Buddy
asked.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“According to the town blogs and twits
you’ve been happily screwing half the available dames around town anyway. And I
haven’t noticed any falling off of our customers.”

Waco added, “In fact, we got guys
stopping by and craning their necks while they’re pumping gas to catch a
glimpse of the town
Luthero
.”

“Lothario,” Buddy corrected.

“Him too.”

“So, what are you gonna do? We’re not
puttin
’ up with your bullshit treating us like we don’t
know the gas end of a car from its front axle. We’re the best damn mechanics in
this area and we want you to go back to
treatin
’ us
like you have been
treatin
’ us.
Like
you know it.”

Waco grinned. “Yeah, and thanks for the
invite to try out Clayton’s massage parlor. That’s working out real well. He’s
really good with his hands.”

“I don’t know how you can put up with all
that pawing. I’m way too ticklish.” Buddy shivered. “Just the thought…”

Waco’s grin widened.
“Yeah.
Just the thought.”
His hand moved toward his crotch
and then swung away to hook into the side of his overalls. He cleared his
throat and tried to look serious to cover his blush.

Damn, Matt thought.
Clay
and Waco.
That was about as unlikely a combination as…
well,
wait, as he and Dorothy and Lucy were likely.

So what was the
big deal about their moving in together? His memory of how the three of them
had reacted to the suggestion was too vivid, too visceral, too immediate,
too
boner-inducing as he sat behind the desk, rolling closer
so as not to reveal himself, to have changed in the space of a few days.

“You guys are right. I’m sorry you didn’t
call me out on it sooner. I need to clear up some stuff right away.” He reached
for his cell phone. It rang.

“Yeah?
Sorry.
Matt’s Motors.
Yeah? Dorothy! Hey, babe, it’s great to hear
from you. She’s right there, too? Give her a hug for me. I was just about to
call you. Yeah.
Right now.
Wasn’t I, guys?” He shoved
the phone at the two men.

“Right, Dot. He was just talking about
calling you guys.”

“The both of you.
And Clay says to
say hello.”

Matt
frowned
a
questioning look at Waco who shrugged. “Maybe they’d want a massage too,” he
muttered. “It seems to loosen people up pretty good.” Buddy dragged him out of
the office, closing the door behind him as he gave Matt
a
thumbs
up.

As soon as the door closed, Matt’s tone
turned urgent. “Dorothy, I know you two were concerned about this ménage thing
working out, but I say we can worry about that later. I miss you both. I want
you both. I need you both. Please, let’s—”

She cut him off. They wanted to get
together right now.

“You do?
The both of
you?
Right now?”

Amelia had shut the shop for the day and
Lucy had taken the rest of the day off. They could meet him at his house in
fifteen minutes. They thought the three of them living together was a great
idea. They saw no reason to delay making it happen.

Matt sighed contentedly.

“Make it ten.”

* * * *

Two weeks later, in his office at Matt’s
Motors, a puzzled Matt Bartholomew opened a newly delivered, surprisingly
familiar package with no return address. Pulling out the contents and
unwrapping
its contents, a big grin spread across his face.

He read the enclosed card. “I’ll be
damned,” he muttered, the grin spreading even more broadly. This deserved a
special response, he thought.

He punched a number into his cell phone.

“Clay? I’ve a special favor to ask.”

A couple of days later the muscular
masseur looked up smiling from behind the digital camera he was wielding and
announced he thought they had gotten the picture they wanted. The group he had
been photographing clustered around the small rear screen of the camera,
admiringly.