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, 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 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 was 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 a 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, kind of been at loose ends since the end of the war," he shrugged. "Never stayed in one place long enough, I suppose. Never found anyplace 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 then 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."