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Chapter One
Candy
“Are you ready?” J-One asks.
“What for?” I glance at J-Two who’s giving me a knowing grin.
“Our Happy Ending,” they say in unison.
The door flies open, revealing a trio of Mariachis in huge sombreros, guitars at the ready, mouths open to launch into song.
(Candy’s Note: Are the Mariachis too much?)
From Candy Ever After (Unpublished epilogue to the serial Candy Boys)
“This bed’s pretty big,” my dad says, looking into our bedroom.
“Humongous,” I agree.
Notice the “our.” Our bedroom. No more separate beds. No more separate living arrangements. This is it. Me and the boys, we’re a thing. A trio. In a relationship.
Status: hot.
“Lots of space to stretch out,” my dad says, awe in his voice. He leans further in, one hand on the doorjamb. “Your mom and I should get a bed like that. Hey, I didn’t know you liked dark sheets.”
“I don’t. The boys do.”
“You let your roommates choose your sheets?”
Okay, I’m starting to think that dear old dad is out of the loop, but like, completely. Looks like my mom forgot to tell him about the changes in my life. The new relationship status.
Or anything at all. I have been keeping her updated on the major landmarks of my life—up to and including finding Joel and Jethro and the difficulties we faced until we figured out we three want each other and are serious about it—but my dad’s next comment confirms my fears.
“I bet you got the best bedroom, Candace. Let’s see…” He peeks into the next room, eager like a child. “Ah, this is a storeroom. Just how many rooms does this apartment have? Where are the other bedrooms?”
Dad is an accountant in a big law firm. He has worked there all his life—okay, that makes him sound old, when he’s in fact all of fifty years. He looks and sounds like an old man, though. Set in his ways. Doesn’t like changes and breaking his habits. I mean, he can ooh and aah over something new he sees or reads about, and it’s cute, but his fascination quickly passes.
I push my brand new pink-rimmed glasses up my nose. “Dad, Joel and Jethro are my boyfriends. We, uh, we sleep together.”
And why is that so hard to say? I’m a grown woman, and it’s not like I invited him to look into our bedroom or anything.
But he’s my dad. My palms are so sweaty I could jack Joel and Jet off without need for lube.
Aaaaaand… not the sort of thing I’m comfortable thinking in front of my time-honored progenitors.
Speaking of whom, my mom wanders closer, a huge smile on her face. “I bet the storeroom is for all the sex toys they use. And the bed is for wild, uninhibited sex. A threesome, Donny. Our daughter has a healthy sex life.” Her expression turns tragic. “Unlike us.”
Oh GOD. “Mom, stop.”
Forget the slick on my palms. My face is burning with embarrassment. I wonder if I can hide under the much discussed bed until my parents leave.
“Where are your boyfriends, anyway?” Mom brushes shiny blond hair from her face. She’s my dad’s age but looks much younger. She keeps her figure trim with diets and the gym, and she’d look like my older sister, except… huh. What’s with the short skirt, fishnet stockings and plunging neckline? That’s new. “I was hoping to meet them.”
She peeks into the bathroom, then tiptoes inside and checks inside the shower stall, as if expecting J and J to be hiding behind the shower curtain.
“Um. They haven’t come home yet.”
“It’s Sunday.” Mom shoots me a wounded why-are-you-lying-to-me look. “They don’t work today.”
I swear, sometimes she’s worse than Brylee.
“They went running, Mom. They often train together.” And they’ve invited me, too, plenty of times, and now I wish I had gone with.
