A Limited Engagement
Page 3
When his cock finally slipped from my body, he rolled off me, and the loss felt too familiar -- like it could get to be a habit. But he put his arm around me, pulling me close, and we lay for a time on the rug. The rain beat on the roof in steady soothing rhythm, and the fire crackled in counterpoint, and our breathing slowed and steadied and evened out.
After a time he said, “And you think love is enough?”
“Sex helps.” He didn’t laugh and I said, “I think love is the point. Because anything else is just a business contract.”
He said wearily, “I had my life all planned out.”
“I know.”
“You’re not a very good actor,” he said. “I’ve known from the first that you were in love with me.”
“You’re not a very good actor, either,” I said.
The firelight moved across the ceiling beams in lazy, flickering shadow.
He said, “There’s a justice of the peace in Greensboro.”
“Is there?”
He turned his head and pressed his face into my hair. I felt his lips move against my forehead as he said, “Do you have any idea of what I should do with an unused marriage license?”
“I do,” I said.
A Limited Engagement
Copyright © 2008 by Josh Lanyon
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Torquere Press, Inc.: Sips electronic edition / September 2008
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