number isn’t anywhere close to zero. But even beyond that… how many of those nice churchgoing women like to tie up their husbands and flog them? How many of those nice churchgoing men have a porn collection to rival a big-city bookstore? There are a lot of ways to be queer. In a crowd like that, everyone writhes in shame about their own kinks and fantasies, and judges everyone else’s twice as hard.”
He looked cold, Owen thought. Kerry hardly had any flesh on him to protect him from the chill in the air, and he was huddled in his black sweater. Owen thought about offering his own jacket, then wondered if it might be taken the wrong way and instead put his arm out, very cautiously, and wrapped it around Kerry’s shoulders.
Kerry stiffened, then, ever so slowly, leaned into the touch.
It did feel exposed. On the farm, Owen wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Here, where anyone could see them, and think….
And think what? Owen thought, with a sudden fierce anger. They should think this man is better than the best of them. And I love him and I want the whole world to know that.
Homespun | Layla M. Wier
89
“Hey,” he said, and Kerry looked up at him. Sharp face.
Sharp tongue. Soft heart. Owen grinned at him. “Kiss me,”
he said, and waited until Kerry’s lips closed over his own—
tentative at first, then hard, hungry, wanting.
The hiss of hydraulic brakes made them both jump.
They both waved the bus off until the driver got the message and pulled away from the curb. “Sorry, wrong number,”
Kerry said, and for some reason they both found it funny enough to collapse in helpless giggling. Eventually the laughter died away and left them leaning into each other, temple to temple.
“If it would make a difference to you,” Owen said, “I’d walk right back in there and announce to the whole gathered bunch of them that you’re my fiancé. Except… that’s still off the table, isn’t it?”
“I’d rather just get another cheap motel room, tear all your clothes off, and enjoy some more nice, life-affirming sex,” Kerry said, and Owen grinned, though the tacit “no”
still twisted in his heart. Sobering, Kerry went on, “I don’t really give a damn what they think. They all know you’re with me anyway— with me, I mean—and nice as it would be to rub their noses in it, I’m sure they’d all remember it as the day that Kerry ruined his father’s funeral for attention.”
“Not your Aunt Lucy.”
“No. Aunt Lucy would think it was the best thing she’d ever seen. I’m sure Laura would too.”
“Oh hey, speak of the devil.” Owen gestured down the street. Laura had appeared on the sidewalk, and they both waved to her, getting her attention.
“It’s chilly out here,” Laura said when she was close enough to speak without shouting. “Are you catching a bus?”
Homespun | Layla M. Wier
90
“We’re just borrowing the bench.” Owen shuffled them both over to make room for her; she opted to sit by Kerry, leaning her shoulder against his and giving him a playful smile.
“I don’t know, Uncle Kerry; I’m not sure if I’ve forgiven you and Daddy for abandoning me to the in-laws yet. Which is not to say that I don’t like your relatives, Uncle Kerry.” She backpedaled hastily.
“ I don’t like them, so you’re more than welcome not to.”
“Your Aunt Lucy is pretty cool, though. I swapped
numbers with her.”
Kerry laughed, and Owen said, “We were just talking about her. I thought you two might get along.”
“You can’t pick your family, but you can pick which ones you spend time with.” Laura yawned, smothering it with a hand.
Owen reached across Kerry’s lap to squeeze her small hand. “Long day for you, honey.”
“Gonna be even longer if we head home tonight.” She rested her head on Kerry’s shoulder. “Er, are we heading back tonight? I don’t want to drag you off, Uncle Kerry….”
“There’s nothing else that I need to do here,”
He looked cold, Owen thought. Kerry hardly had any flesh on him to protect him from the chill in the air, and he was huddled in his black sweater. Owen thought about offering his own jacket, then wondered if it might be taken the wrong way and instead put his arm out, very cautiously, and wrapped it around Kerry’s shoulders.
Kerry stiffened, then, ever so slowly, leaned into the touch.
It did feel exposed. On the farm, Owen wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Here, where anyone could see them, and think….
And think what? Owen thought, with a sudden fierce anger. They should think this man is better than the best of them. And I love him and I want the whole world to know that.
Homespun | Layla M. Wier
89
“Hey,” he said, and Kerry looked up at him. Sharp face.
Sharp tongue. Soft heart. Owen grinned at him. “Kiss me,”
he said, and waited until Kerry’s lips closed over his own—
tentative at first, then hard, hungry, wanting.
The hiss of hydraulic brakes made them both jump.
They both waved the bus off until the driver got the message and pulled away from the curb. “Sorry, wrong number,”
Kerry said, and for some reason they both found it funny enough to collapse in helpless giggling. Eventually the laughter died away and left them leaning into each other, temple to temple.
“If it would make a difference to you,” Owen said, “I’d walk right back in there and announce to the whole gathered bunch of them that you’re my fiancé. Except… that’s still off the table, isn’t it?”
“I’d rather just get another cheap motel room, tear all your clothes off, and enjoy some more nice, life-affirming sex,” Kerry said, and Owen grinned, though the tacit “no”
still twisted in his heart. Sobering, Kerry went on, “I don’t really give a damn what they think. They all know you’re with me anyway— with me, I mean—and nice as it would be to rub their noses in it, I’m sure they’d all remember it as the day that Kerry ruined his father’s funeral for attention.”
“Not your Aunt Lucy.”
“No. Aunt Lucy would think it was the best thing she’d ever seen. I’m sure Laura would too.”
“Oh hey, speak of the devil.” Owen gestured down the street. Laura had appeared on the sidewalk, and they both waved to her, getting her attention.
“It’s chilly out here,” Laura said when she was close enough to speak without shouting. “Are you catching a bus?”
Homespun | Layla M. Wier
90
“We’re just borrowing the bench.” Owen shuffled them both over to make room for her; she opted to sit by Kerry, leaning her shoulder against his and giving him a playful smile.
“I don’t know, Uncle Kerry; I’m not sure if I’ve forgiven you and Daddy for abandoning me to the in-laws yet. Which is not to say that I don’t like your relatives, Uncle Kerry.” She backpedaled hastily.
“ I don’t like them, so you’re more than welcome not to.”
“Your Aunt Lucy is pretty cool, though. I swapped
numbers with her.”
Kerry laughed, and Owen said, “We were just talking about her. I thought you two might get along.”
“You can’t pick your family, but you can pick which ones you spend time with.” Laura yawned, smothering it with a hand.
Owen reached across Kerry’s lap to squeeze her small hand. “Long day for you, honey.”
“Gonna be even longer if we head home tonight.” She rested her head on Kerry’s shoulder. “Er, are we heading back tonight? I don’t want to drag you off, Uncle Kerry….”
“There’s nothing else that I need to do here,”
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