Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 10

had to endure what happened down there in that hellhole, right? You know if there had been any way for me to save Ren from…"
    Con gripped his friend by the shoulders and drew him back, looking into his eyes.
    "It's over and done with now Gael. There's no need to go over it again, it only leads us to places in our hearts that neither of us want to examine too closely. "
    Gael reached out a hand and cupped his friend's cheek, giving it a gentle pat. The two friends nodded slowly at one another, understanding that the beauty of their friendship meant that no more words needed to be spoken. They understood each other completely and had made peace with the past. Breaking away Gael turned and strode toward the door, tossing a final command over his shoulder to his faithful soldier.
    "Get some rest, Con, and that's an order!"
    Gael swept through the door, leaving Con behind. Slowly Con turned toward the bedroom, his feet dragging a bit more slowly, exhaustion finally claiming him.
    He entered the darkened room and took note of the softly glowing lamp in the corner. With quiet steps he moved to the side of the bed and sighed. The figure in the bed moved slightly. Brown curls fanned out around the pale cheeks that lay upon the pillow. Con's eyes moved slowly down the long, lithe body, that lay beneath the blanket, taking note of the one hand that rested on top. Gently he reached out to trace a finger across the silver band that graced the fourth finger. Con's ring. A token that had been given to him years ago by Gael after their first battle together. Now his boy wore it as a way of marking their first battle together…Ren's battle for freedom from fear.
    The boy stirred slightly and his eyes fluttered open, sleepily. Con's breath caught in his throat at the beauty of those hazel eyes and the sweet expression of love he could see mirrored in them. Ren smiled and lazily reached out to take Con's hand in his own.
    "Con."
    The boy pulled his weary warrior down onto the bed and wrapped himself around him, sighing. Con pulled Ren close, stroking his curls, listening to the heavenly sound of his breathing. Gently, he kissed the top of Ren's head and closed his eyes. As he drifted off, he said to Ren:
    "Sleep now, boy."
    And the boy did.
    THE END
    Author bio: Sammy Goode began life as a writer of children's plays. She was quite content in her world of all things small and wonderful until a band of rabble-rousers, (otherwise known as her friends at Goodreads), ganged up and forced her to begin writing stories—delicious little dirty stories—the kind called m/m. This story was born out of all their persistent nagging and well wishing. Oh and lest she be misread, she would not trade that little band for all the world!!!
    Sammy can be found at Goodreads .
    ****

WITH THIS RING
    by Jeff Erno

    Jason looked at the older man standing across from him and wondered how they'd gotten to this moment. He'd grown up immersed in the vitriol his father spat over his ex-business partner, that Jason believed everything his father had said. Until Jason met the man himself, and found out that events weren't quite as his father had made them appear, and his soon to be husband, was nothing like his father had portrayed him to be.
    ~ Penumbra

    genre: contemporary
    tags: intergenerational; May/September romance; coming out; familial issues
    word count: 24,228
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    WITH THIS RING
    by Jeff Erno
    Jason hated the trade shows, not so much because of the work that was involved. The requisite preparation for each show was exhausting—hours of late night planning sessions, customizing the software, splicing together unique Power Point presentations. And then there was the physical labor that was associated with the set-up and disassembly of their displays. But all these things were simply part of the job. It wasn't any one of these things that Jason hated.
    He hated the tension he felt with his father. Every single time they got close to another show, his dad would start getting edgy, snapping at everything Jason said. Every suggestion was challenged. Every attempt to please the man was futile. Jason felt frustrated and angry, and then he'd begin to get short-tempered himself.
    There wasn't any logical reason for his father to be so nervous about these shows. The company always did extremely well, usually netting three or four new clients and a plethora of prospects. He suspected there was more to the situation than what his father