Free A Gentle Rain by Deborah F. Smith

me, naked on the rumpled bed, Paula sighed and patted my back some more. A big spring moon was rising outside the cabin's screened door. My love shack was hidden in the ranch's back marshes. Only place I had any privacy.
    The moon gleamed on the little fishing lake just beyond the front steps. Spring-fed lake, deep as forever. A couple of college professors from the University of Florida dove down a hundred feet and found the main vent, but who could say how much deeper it went from there? Still waters run deep, they say. In Florida, they run deeper.
    Everything's connected in life, in my opinion, just like the water connects the land. We're all heading toward the sea, and the waters can wash us clean.
    I wished Paula would just quit talking and enjoy my water scenery. "Sugar," she went on, shaking her head, "I've known you four years and counting. I've seen you show up here some Saturday nights with broken toes, stitches in your head, and bruises the size of pancakes. But nothing's ever stopped you from treating us girls to a good time. This is different. Why don't you drive over to Tallahassee one morning and talk to Dr. Steinberg? I'll get you in without anybody noticing."
    Paula managed the front office for a big group of doctors in the state capitol. "Is Steinberg good with chomped fingers?" I asked. "How about stomped feet?"
    "He's a shrink, sugar."
    I turned and looked down at her in the dark. She was serious. "I'm not crazy. Just bitten."
    "You're depressed, Ben. What's wrong?"
    I shook my head. Time for a little Thocco magic to change the subject. I slid an arm around her and pulled her close, then put the other hand on her belly. She was soft and snuggly, and I knew just how to stroke the sensitive spot on her Caesarean scar. Paula had three kids, a no-good ex-husband and a full schedule. I rounded her life out with a little fun every fourth Saturday night. We had a perfect man-woman friendship-with-benefits. But now she planted a firm hand on my chest. "You're stalling. Don't try to fake me out. And don't try to fake out the others, either."
    I blew out a long breath and let go of her. "Is everybody worried about me?"
    "Yes. We're getting a little concerned that maybe you're ready to move on. Maybe you've spotted the future Mrs. Ben Thocco? We'd be happy for you, Ben, but we'd like some warning. You'll be hard to replace, sugar."
    My women thought I'd found a potential wife? Hell, I'd given up on even having a regular girlfriend. I didn't have the time, the money or the patience. Pickin's were slim when it came to finding a woman willing to help me run the ranch. I could just picture my ad in the personals:
SCC (Straight Cracker Cowboy) looking for woman willing to work 24/7 on a backwater ranch taking care of livestock, house, garden, land, plus coeds, food and entertainment for seven hired hands who don't drive, cook or understand how to work a TV remote, not to mention a disabled baby brother so sweet he'll break your heart. Must like alligators.
    "No wife on the horizon," I grunted to Paula. "What, is everybody comparin' notes?" I shuffled my bare feet on the cabin's plank. floor. A splinter would have felt good, right then.
    "We always compare notes. Nothing personal." She punched my shoulder lightly. "That's just the way harems are."
    I rubbed a line of tension in my forehead. There are disadvantages to dating four women at once. Not many, but some. Not that you could call my rotating Saturday night appointments with Paula, Suzie, Cathy and Rhonda, "dating." Especially since they knew about each other and not only didn't compete, they'd all gotten to be good friends over the years. "Maybe I'll take a few weeks off and recharge my battery."
    "That's a good idea, sugar." She started patting my back again. "We love you, Ben."
    There's nothing less sexy than having a naked woman pat your back in sympathy. Even worse when she's representin' a whole group of naked women. "I'll pass the word around," she whispered.