I feel as though I owe JE an apology for all I've done to her creation.

Jenny (JenRar) I probably owe you an apology too for forcing you to read chapters that weren't well written and were covered with errors. Thank you for sorting them all out as the beta on this story.

Dina (aydinbydin) thank you for the suggestion of how Stephanie finally starts to see the guys' attention for what it truly is.

Chapter 12 – For Medicinal Purposes

Stephanie's POV

"Naked man was dead?" Lula asked, wanting me to clarify the state I'd found Mr. Kolinsky.

"Yes, he wasn't wearing any clothes, he'd turned the air conditioning on full blast so that his house was freezing, and he'd taken Viagra." I was randomly sharing details, but I needed to say it to get the mental image out of my head.

"And he left you a note?" Lula picked up on something else I'd mentioned when I first got there.

"Yes, he told me not to go upstairs," I explained.

"Did you go anyway?" she pushed. "I'd have gone anyway just to see what he was hiding."

I shook my head. "No, I didn't go. I was worried that he might have something dangerous in there."

"So you still don't know what he was hiding?" She sounded doubtful.

I grimaced, knowing Lula wasn't likely to let this go until I leveled with her, and once she got the truth, I wasn't sure that was going to do anything in this instance to close the issue. "After the cops arrived, a team went upstairs and checked it out. Apparently, it was safe, but it was full of…you know…" I pointed to my crotch, hoping she'd say it so that I didn't have to.

Lula's face wrinkled as she tried to figure out my awkward sign language. "His upstairs was full of pants? Why didn't he want you to see that? There ain't nothing wrong with pants – unless you mean women's pants, like he and Sally should meet, but even then, dressing like a woman is a lot better than swinging those ancient manly bits everywhere like he did."

I had to get this train back on the track or I'd never get to go home. "No, Lula, his upstairs was full of dicks. I guess he had pictures, models, sculptures; everything possible was covered with a replication of a male organ. That's what he didn't want me to see."

"Damn, I want to see that. I mean, you can sort of see that in aisle five of Pleasure Treasures, but when they're all in boxes, it ain't exactly the same thing. So freaky dude had a dick museum? Hell, he should have sold tickets! There's a lot of people out there that would have paid to see that kind of shit."

Then she cut herself off in mid-rant, putting me on edge that her next question wasn't going to be easy. "So after you found him dead and got the note to skip the stairs, who did you call?"

I relaxed. Lula had the same aversion I did to death cooties, so I knew she'd agree with what I did. "I called Bobby from RangeMan."

Her eyes got big, which I hadn't expected. "You called Bobby – the same guy you spent the night with two days ago?"

Obviously, she didn't understand the way it was. "It is the same person I stayed with, but it wasn't just Bobby. He and Lester are tight, and they let me hang out with them. I'm just a friendly third wheel to what they have."

She gave me a look that told me she didn't believe a word I was saying. "You're the third wheel they took dancing last night, right?"

"Yeah, they're both really good at dancing, but they don't like gay clubs, so they go with me and we all get to dance," I explained, figuring she would see how innocent it was by the details.

Her expression didn't change, so I'd obviously not given her enough. "And Lester's been teaching you some moves in the gym, right?"

"Yeah, the guys have gone with me on a couple of take downs, and then they decided I needed to learn at least some basic self defense to keep myself from getting thrown off a porch – again," I replied, wincing at the memory of my multiple flights by the hands of skips who were less than willing to be hauled in.

"Hang on," she jumped in once more. "Who did you go to the movies with on Wednesday?"

"Lester asked me to go with him since Bobby was working late," I said, remembering him introducing me to the idea of pouring M&Ms over hot buttered popcorn. I'd never done that before, and it was absolutely delicious.

"Then who took you to that Japanese place where they cook in front of you?" she asked, looking like there was a great mystery of the universe she couldn't quite figure out.

"Bobby did, but that was Tuesday, because Les had a late shift," I reminded her.

Then I shivered when I remembered the chef making a little volcano out of onion slices on the grill right in front of me. When he'd lit the oil to make the flames, it had gone totally out of control and the fire had shot out of the side instead of through the top. I'd thought for sure my hair was about to catch on fire. Bobby had thrown his glass of water on the flaming vegetable and the momentary panic had been over. I'd used that as justification for not eating any of the grilled vegetables the chef had given me. They'd almost taken my life that night, so I hardly saw why they'd be considered healthy.

"So which one are you dating?" Lula finally asked bluntly.

I blinked a few times, trying to figure out why she was asking that. "They're a couple – with each other; they don't look at me like that."

"Ummhmm." Lula made a noise that told me she wasn't buying anything I just said. Then her eyes got big again, and I knew I was in for it. "You're dating both of them, aren't you? You sly dog. You got two hot men throwing themselves at you, so you ain't picking either one. What's it like in bed having both those hunks around?"

I knew my face now bore a striking resemblance to a fire truck. "No! It isn't like that; they just see me as a friend."

She raised a single eyebrow, showing off a skill I didn't realize she possessed. "Three times, I've tried to get you to go out at night, and you couldn't cause you were doing something with those two. Have you spent a night by yourself this month?"

"Yes," I replied defensively, before thinking. Then I leveled with her. "I've spent every night but two – well, three – by myself, but there have been a bunch of times that they've stayed at my place until I was yawning and too tired to keep my eyes open before they said goodnight."

"Them coming over for dinner and hanging out til bedtime don't sound to me like they think of you as a friend," she pointed out. When she put it like that, it did seem kind of strange. "I mean, if they only wanted each other, they wouldn't be spending all their free time with you."

"But they're a couple. There's no room for a third wheel on a bicycle," I pointed out.

"Girl, they don't want to be a bicycle; they want to be a big-wheel." Lula was smiling like she'd just won the lottery.

"A what?" I blurted out, feeling slightly offended she was saying that because I was involved, the word big was required. I figured Lula of all people wouldn't throw around insults about size. Besides, with all the healthy food Bobby had been feeding me and the takedown lessons with Lester, I was trimmer than I'd ever been.

"A big-wheel – you know, like a tricycle," she explained her reference, taking away my momentary indignation. "They want a non-traditional relationship."

"Where are you getting this from?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.

Lula held up a bubble gum pink fingernail, telling me to wait, and then spun around in Connie's chair to dig through some files on the floor. When she sat back up, she first adjusted her lime green top so that her breasts were no longer in danger of breaking free, and then she opened up a magazine.

"I was doing some research in Cosmo, and there was a whole article in here about non-traditional relationships. I think that's what they want," she said, like she was expert in these things.

"You were doing research in Cosmo?" I challenged.

"Girl, they got surveys and scientific shit in here. This magazine is real, and just 'cause I ain't in the business anymore don't mean I don't want to keep my skills current," she pointed out, as though this were a normal conversation.

Clearly ignoring my reaction to her statement, she plowed on. "See, there are some people that can't be happy in a normal guy/girl thing. Sometimes, it's because they got some kind of freaky thing, like naked man with the dick museum in his attic, and sometimes, it's because the person they love can't do all the sexual shit they need. There's all kinds of reasons why some people need something besides just one person for all their life."

Damn, when she put it like that, it did make sense. "But Bobby and Lester are committed to each other. They already have what they need," I said, not willing to speak about it anymore for fear of betraying their confidence, but after that night when Bobby had a nightmare in my apartment, I totally got why these two warriors needed each other to feel safe out in the world.

"I know that. They ain't looking to break up and just one of them get you. I think they want to bring you into what they got," she explained, pointing to a picture of two good looking guys sitting on opposite ends of a couch. A woman leaned against one of them, her feet being massaged by the other man. Honestly, it was the exact position we always ended up in when we watched movies or started talking late into the night.

I grabbed the magazine from her hands and pulled it toward me to read the caption.

Trinogomy is an often overlooked, but valid and growing relationship choice, whereby three people commit to sharing their lives equally and exclusively with the other people in the relationship.

"Hell, I didn't realize a threesome had an official name."

"Girl, this ain't talking about a threesome. Didn't you read any of it?" Lula asked, causing me to realize I'd spoken out loud. "A threesome is all about sex, like one of them French ménage things. This is about really digging the other two people you're with so that it's the real deal as a long term thing, not just a wild night of sex."

My mind briefly went to the scene in their apartment when I'd walked out of the bathroom after my shower and seen them making out in the kitchen. Neither had been wearing a shirt, and the muscles in Lester's back had been rolling and moving with every thrust of his hips against Bobby. I hated that I couldn't keep my mouth shut and they'd heard me ogling them, because I'd never seen anything that hot before. Right now, a night of wild sex was sounding pretty damn good to me – especially after the months long dry streak I was enduring.

I shook my head, trying to dislodge the mental image of us having sex. "I need some sugar," I announced when the picture wouldn't go away. Damn Bobby and his healthy food. The low sugar versions of everything I was eating were as tasty as their fully loaded counterparts, but they didn't do anything to keep the edge off my hormones.

"I can't leave, 'cause Vinnie's on a cruise with Lucille and Connie's at the police station writing a bond, so I promised to run things here," Lula said, causing my heart to sink. Lula was the one person I could always count on to be up for eating. Then she proved her best friend status by opening a drawer in Connie's desk and pulling out a bag of miniature chocolates big enough to more than tame the raging sex thoughts taking over in my head. "I think we can call this an emergency and get into Connie's medicine."

"Medicine?" I asked, taking the little peanut butter cup and ripping the foil off with slightly shaking hands. I looked like some kind of junky. Clearly, Bobby and I needed to have a talk about moderation. Well, maybe not moderation, because that's what he was after; we needed to discuss the benefits of a good binge every so often.

"Yeah," Lula said, bringing me back to the pile of chocolate on top of Connie's desk. "She says chocolate helps to offset cramps, so whenever she's extra cranky, I remind her it's chocolate time, and she eats some of this to keep the pain from making her grumpy."

"I don't know how she manages to leave it alone the rest of the month," I replied, admiring her ability to deny herself a treat with such easy access.

"The rest of the month?" Lula blurted out with a laugh. "Girl, Connie needs it for when her ass cramps up from sitting behind this computer doing the work for Vinnie. This ain't got nothing to do with no PMS. When that little visitor comes calling, she uses this." With that description, she opened the bottom drawer on the other side and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels.

We looked at each other for a few minutes, and then I said, "You know, I think I'm due for that little visitor soon. Maybe I need a little something to ease the symptoms."

Lula unscrewed the lid and grabbed a couple of paper cups from the water bubbler in the corner, before filling them up with what was probably the equivalent of three shots of whisky. Well, maybe four shots – five at the most.

We clicked our cups together softly and then chugged down the brown liquid, letting the burn go from our tongues to our stomachs. After our breathing returned to normal and the tears stopped forming in my eyes, I looked at Lula, and we both burst out laughing.

"Does this mean, you gonna come round here a little more often?" Lula asked.

"I come by almost every day," I pointed out, grabbing another piece of candy and smiling when it took the terrible whisky taste out of my mouth.

"Yeah, but you ain't been sharing many details, and if you're gonna be getting it on with two of them men, you gonna have to start dishing," Lula explained.

"But I'm not getting it on." I put my hand up to stop where her argument was heading. I looked back down at the open Cosmo and added, "Just because some guys seem to be into this doesn't mean Bobby and Lester are. They have made it really clear in what they've said to me that they need each other."

"They got each other," Lula agreed. "But the way they're acting means they want you, too."

I could easily picture it, partly because I'd spent so much time with them over the last few weeks, and because I trusted them in a way I tried not to dwell on. I rarely gave out unconditional trust because of how badly it could blow up at me. My divorce from Dickie definitely wasn't my finest hour, and I swore I'd never let myself be in a position to be made a fool of like that again.

"I think they just felt sorry for me," I informed her. "I don't believe they had romance in mind."

It was clear Lula didn't agree. "So which one of them do you want?"

"Neither," I quickly answered. "Well, both…" I clarified, only because I didn't think they should be split up. "But neither is a possibility," I said, finally getting to what I thought was the truth. Why was my mouth working so freely? What was in that cup I'd just chugged down? Did the Jack Daniels company put truth serum in their alcohol nowadays?

"And you know that because you asked 'em?" Lula pushed.

I let my head fall to the back of the vinyl sofa. "No, it's not that easy. I finally have a healthy relationship with a guy – with two guys – and I don't want to screw it up by pushing for something they don't want."

"Girl, they want it," Lula declared as though it were obvious. "They doing everything they can to prove it to you. I think they're waiting on you to make some kind of move so they don't scare you off."

"Why would they think I'd be scared?" I wondered.

That made Lula laugh. It took her a few minutes to pull herself together before she explained. "Girl, you got a heart as big as my boobs, but you as white as they come from a part of town that ain't exactly known for being open to something different."

I wanted to argue with that, but it was true on a whole bunch of levels. I didn't really want what the girls I'd grown up with did, but I didn't really want to be the black sheep of the 'Burg that was constantly gossiped about for doing strange things, either. "You think they're waiting on me to tell them what I want?"

"I think they're just trying to show you something and they're leaving the next move up to you," she explained.

I thought about it. Was this what I wanted? They were hot... I couldn't deny a physical attraction. I mean, a girl would have to be dead to not realize how good looking they were individually. Then, when you put them together, it just skyrocketed from there. They had proven how caring they could be, and I loved the evenings we'd spent together and the mornings when they would pop by to wake me up gently and start the day slowly over a cup of coffee. I could definitely get used to the way they listened to what was going on in my life, and then helped me to figure out the best approach to succeed, instead of telling me what I couldn't or shouldn't do. Plus, there was the whole thing between Bobby and my mother, which I had no idea what to think of, because I knew he'd stopped by to see her at least once without me there so they could cook together. She had yet to say one negative thing about me bringing them to dinner.

I decided this was above what I could figure out easily, so I needed a subject change. "You make a pretty good counselor," I said, grinning at her. "You're like Oprah."

"Girl, I ain't Oprah. She's got no sense of style with all those button up shirts, and long skirts. But you damn skippy about the talking bit. I've been volunteering at a career center near Stark to help women look for a life off the streets," she told me, toning her usually flamboyant delivery down when she spoke of working with other women who had led a life like hers.

I leaned forward and picked up a piece of chocolate, but I stayed closer to the desk to say, "Whoever gets a chance to talk to you is lucky. You're the bravest, smartest woman I know, and I'll bet you're making a huge difference in their life." Damn, my mouth was flying off again without me filtering what I was thinking. I agreed with what I said, but I didn't usually say shit like that, because it was too close to having a talk about feelings.

She paused for a minute, and her lack of a fast response told me my words had touched her. Fortunately, she didn't dwell on it and get all mushy, because that would have been more than we could handle without a bucket of chicken between us.

"Of course I'm making a difference. I'm a role model – and a damn good one."

I decided I needed to go before all of Connie's chocolate stash was gone. I really didn't want to explain my part in devouring her candy. When I stood up, I weaved a little and had to admit that cup of whisky might not have been a good idea.

"Girl, you all right?" Lula asked, recognizing that I wasn't really stable on my feet.

"I'm good," I lied. "I just need a little fresh air to clear my head before driving home."

"You sure that's a good idea?" she pushed, making me regret letting her in on the secret that I was such a lightweight when it came to booze.

"I'll be fine." I waved my hand, as though it was no big deal.

At that moment, the bell over the front door rang, and I spun around to see who had come in, but the momentum made the room spin and I ended up falling down onto the sofa. I shut my eyes when the world began to tilt, so I waited for the movement to stop before attempting to peek out of just one eye. I was met with a set of green eyes focused on me with great concern, and I knew I was busted.

A hand brushed my hair back from my face, and a concerned voice spoke. "Beautiful, are you okay?"

"I'm good," I repeated the line I'd tried to feed Lula.

The fact that his expression didn't change meant he wasn't buying it, either.

I let my eye close, realizing that holding one open made the other one feel funny; plus, it would be easier to confess if I didn't have to look directly at anybody. "Lula and I might have had a little something to drink, which seems to have impacted my balance. I just need to get a little fresh air, and then I can drive home."

I heard Lester's laugh, even though he was obviously trying to mute it. "Yeah, I think we may need to alter that plan just a little."

"Why?" I practically pouted. What in the hell was in that cup? I didn't pout! "I only had one shot."

I could feel Lester moving before he lifted my head and then slid his legs under my neck. Then there was the sound of glass being scooted over the desk and something going in the trash. "No, you only had one cup of booze, but based on the size of that cup, you had at least four or five shots, and that on top of your usual intolerance for liquor means you are drunk right now."

"But I feel fine," I argued, thinking that actually with my head on his muscular legs, I felt more than just fine. Then I realized it was getting considerably warmer in Vinnie's office and wondered why Lula had turned on the heat.

The back of my pillow was shaking, so I opened my eyes in time to see Les laughing. "How about I let Tank get the files from Lula and carry them back to RangeMan, and I'll drive you back to Haywood?"

"I can't work like this," I confessed, really feeling the effects of my drink all of a sudden. Then I attempted to whisper, but it might have come out a little loud despite my effort. "I think I might be slightly drunk."

Les touched my face and smiled. "I think you're right about that. So why don't I take you back to my place and put you to bed? You can sleep this off, and when you wake up, we can see about dinner. I'll bet we can talk Bobby into making it for us."

"Is he around?" I blurted out.

"I think so," Les replied, always answering my questions, no matter how ridiculous.

"Good, because he and I need to have a little chat," I responded.

Les helped me get up and slung an arm over my shoulder to help steer me to the door. "What do you need to chat with Bobby about?"

"Sugar," I answered him. "I definitely need more sugar. This moderation crap isn't cutting it anymore."

Les was full out laughing, but instead of it pissing me off like it usually did, I liked it, so I laughed, too. "Do me a favor and wait to argue your point on that until I get home, too, okay?"

"Okay," I happily agreed as he got me seated in the passenger seat of my car and put my seatbelt on.

We were at Haywood and he was helping me out of the car before I realized we'd even left Vinnie's parking lot.

"Come on, Sleeping Beauty," Lester said, pulling me up to stand beside him.

Bobby was at the door looking concerned when we arrived on four. "I've pulled the covers back on the bed," he announced, holding the door open for us to pass through.

"No," I disagreed. "I don't want to be alone in the bedroom."

"It's all right, baby," Bobby assured me with a kiss to my forehead. "I'll be in the kitchen, so you won't be alone in the apartment."

I loved it when he called me baby. I used to hate the name when other guys used it, because it felt like they were saying I was juvenile, but when Bobby said it, something warm happened low in my stomach.

"Can I be on the couch?" I asked, getting a smile from the shirtless man in front of me.

Why did Bobby insist on cooking half naked? I looked down, needing to stop staring at his sculpted chest, and then realized his pants were sitting low on his hips and his feet were bare. Holy shit, Bobby was a sexy man.

The deep laughter around me peaked my interest in what was so funny, but things were getting a little fuzzy, so I lifted my arm and pointed to the couch. I was gently laid down with a pillow under my head and a blanket tucked in around me, and then the guys went quietly into the kitchen. I took a deep breath and smelled the food Bobby was working on, the cologne each of the guys wore, and something else I couldn't really identify. But the mixture of the three things made me think of just one thing. It smelled like home.

With that thought, I sighed and just relaxed, feeling the peace that I always got when I was in this apartment. This was one place where I truly felt like I belonged.