Epilogue

Three months later...

Beau woke to sunshine streaming through a window. He blinked and reached for the center of the bed. Pansy was gone. So was Billy. He shook his head, wondering how the two co-conspirators had managed to sneak out without waking him. He wasn't a heavy sleeper.

But then again, he'd been dead tired the night before. They'd been moving in stages to the house they'd pooled their resources to buy—near Gus's in the burbs. Three doors down, to be exact. Just last Thursday at The Tavern, Aiden had asked to be informed if any houses on their block ever went up for sale. Mondo had joked that their block parties might get pretty interesting if they managed to sew up the entire street.

Everybody had pitched in the previous weekend following the Saturday football game to move Billy and then Beau into the new house. Last night, Beau and Billy had sat Pansy on one of her spindly kitchen chairs while they'd packed all her belongings into boxes. This morning, they'd load the U-haul. By nightfall, they'd all be living under the same roof. Something they'd decided needed to happen quickly after the accident—Pansy's description of what had happened two months ago when the condoms both he and Billy had been wearing tore while they'd been stroking deep inside her pussy.

It had only taken the one time, and two weeks later, she'd waved a wand under their noses, demanding to know what they planned to do about it.

Billy shrugged. He was learning to keep his emotions hidden behind an inscrutable expression because it drove Pansy wild—the fact that she couldn't read what either of them was thinking.

The funny fact was that Beau and Billy could just about read each other's minds. After she'd waved her wand, they'd shared a glance and smiled.

"The new kitchen won't be orange," Billy had said, looking over Pansy's head at Beau.

"And I'm not sitting at a pink kitchen table for the rest of my life," Beau had said, hiding a smile because Pansy's frown grew deeper as the two men ignored her.

"You can put the table in the kid's room. He can do his homework there."

"She can have tea parties."

Pansy had glanced from one to the other and burst into tears. "It's the hormones," she'd said, waving them away as they'd both reached out.

Which, of course, neither of them had accepted as they'd pulled her close for a group hug.

"It's too early for hormones to be kicking in," Beau had said as he and Billy rocked her between them.

"How do you know?" she'd said, hiccupping.

"I don't, but I'm pretty sure that isn't what has you crying."

"Then why am I, Mr. Smartypants?"

"You want us to live together," he'd said, keeping his voice cheerful just to annoy her. "Now, you get your wish."

"And it took me getting knocked up for it to happen?" she'd wailed.

Of course, both men had made sure she no longer thought the only reason they were going to share a roof was because of the bun in the oven.

Thinking about that morning, Beau smiled and then rolled off the air mattress. Time to find out what those two were up to.

He was only halfway down the stairs when he heard the commotion coming from the kitchen. The table was scraping on the linoleum.

Beau stood in the doorway, watching Billy as he plowed into Pansy, her legs hugging his shoulders. "Not worried about the floor this time?" he asked during a lull.

Both of his roomies glanced his way, blushes on their faces. "It's the last time this table will be in a kitchen," Billy said, grinning no doubt because he knew how lame it sounded.

"And it didn't seem fair—you being the only one to christen it," Pansy said. "I wanted to make sure you both had fond memories of it so it didn't end up in the thrift store like most of my furniture."

"I told you that rainbow chair made my eyes hurt," Beau said. He'd hidden the chair, not thrown it out as he'd threatened, but he was willing to wait until she saw it in the new house. Pansy was always generous when she was grateful.

Pansy winked at Billy. "He doesn't know what color I've chosen for the bedroom walls."

Billy grinned and gave her another deep stroke. "He's not gonna love it."

"When he's there, he can keep the lights off."

"He never leaves the lights off."

"That's because he wants to make sure his moves are better than yours."

"He's got this competitive thing going," Billy said, his warm blue eyes gleaming. "I don't get it."

Pansy smiled and gripped the edge of the table. "Better finish it before the whole gang walks through the door."

Beau began laughing as Billy pounded away, happier than he'd ever thought he could be. Sharing a woman had proven easy—when the woman was as breezy and giving as Pansy. She went to great efforts to make sure each man knew he held an equal place in her heart.

He heard a scuff and then a chuckle, and his mouth stretched wider.

"Too late," Marti chimed from beside him. "My, my… I want some of what she's having for breakfast."