Goldie and the Three Wisconsin Bears

Goldie sniffs again. But then she quietly admits, “Y’all do need the Lord.”

There’s a shocked moment. Then we all burst out laughing. And eventually, Goldie’s crying transforms into tears of amusement.

“That was crazy this morning—I mean yesterday morning,” she tells us, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I could barely move when I woke up.”

Nico abruptly stops laughing and jumps to his feet. “I’ll get you some Tylenol.”

He throws Mitch and me chiding looks. “And from now on, we’re all going to do better with aftercare.”

“What’s aftercare?” Mitch, Goldie, and me ask him at the same time.

Chapter Eighteen

MITCH

Aftercare turns out to be my second favorite part of sex with Goldie.

Basically, it involves making sure she’s all cleaned up after we’re done with her for the night. Then cuddling with her and whispering sweet praise about how good she did in her ear until she falls asleep.

Nico’s the most easygoing guy I know, but he’s a hard-ass about this. It doesn’t matter how late Goldie sleeps in. One of us has to be there when she wakes up. Ready to reassure her and counter anything that asshole ex of hers might be telling her inside her mind when we’re not there.

The truth is, none of us feel like it’s a chore to make sure she’s emotionally taken care of every morning. I’m pretty sure Jeb would agree to sleep with her every day in his little storage space if that was what it took to make sure she never ended up crying again.

If that was what it took to make sure she stayed.

And she does. Another week passes. And then another. We don’t offer her any more money, seeing how bad it went the last time. But she also doesn’t talk about leaving to go stay with this Cynda in Missouri or at a motel.

And the next thing we know, it’s the end of April, and we’ve been together for a whole month.

“She still hasn’t told us her name,” Jeb grouses, one morning when it’s Nico’s turn to lay with Goldie. It’s just the two of us, so we’re eating cereal out of salad bowls. Nico’s the only one of us brothers who knows how to cook. And the only one who didn’t get the much advertised memo about Wheaties being the official breakfast of champions.

“Or why she’s running in the first place,” I add, scooping another spoon of wheat and bran flakes into my mouth.

Jeb grunts in agreement. “I told her she should let me deal with this ex of hers. And she said that would be dangerous. You think maybe he’s a drug dealer?”

I immediately shake my head. “Nah, drug dealers don’t fuck with girls who don’t know how to party. I haven’t seen her so much as look wistfully at one of our beers. And she dropped that she only smoked weed once in college, then never did again because it made her talk too much.”

Jeb half smiles. “Same reason as Nico.”

“That’s what I said!” I snort but then sober back up. “It’s been a month, and we still don’t know shit about her….except that she doesn’t trust us to know shit about her.”

“If I had her real name, this wouldn’t even be an issue. I’d figure out who her ex was, go have a conversation with him and make sure he never came near her again.”

I nod. Normally, I don’t necessarily agree with Jeb wanting to run background checks on the escorts we sleep with. But in this case, I’m dying to know too.

“So what do we have. She went to college. Probably in Georgia based on the plates on her car.”

“Maybe not, though. I asked Craig to ask his brother over at the sheriff’s department to run the plates. And he came back with somebody named Courtney Dupree.”

I frown at the name. “Goldie doesn’t strike me as a Courtney.”

“That’s because Courtney’s a white dude going to college in Louisiana. He told me when his college sent him home because of the pandemic, he found out his old car had been stolen, right off the street in front of his mother’s apartment. Dead end.”

I flop back in my seat. “Nico hasn’t had any luck getting her to talk either. He doesn’t want to pressure her because she’s staying and why fix what isn’t broken?”

Jeb throws me a consternated look. “She’s a couple of months along now. I’m not sure when, but eventually, we’d need to get her to a doctor. Make sure everything’s okay. And she ain’t dumb. I’m thinking she’s already realized that she’s either got to tell us the truth about her or leave.”

The back of my throat aches at the thought of her leaving. But, “She hasn’t asked for her money.”

“Yet.” Jeb squints as he says the word I purposely left out.