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‘If he doesn’t ask me to be his best man, I expect to be your maid of honor.’ * * * * * * * * * * The rest of the afternoon, Nancy and I worked out a plan, like two conspirators in the original ‘Mission Impossible’ show. We weren’t Peter Graves or Leonard Nemoy, but we did the best we could. We’d just got to a concept we both liked when I heard the garage door next door go up. I excused myself to go and welcome my wife home from the buying trip she and her partner had made to the northern part of the state, making a sweep of out of the way places to pick up a few bargains. In another two months the cold winter weather would shut down the antique business there, while our milder climate would breathe life into it here. ‘How’d it go? Any real finds?’ ‘A wonderful bed. We can display the headboard and footboard in the shop and keep the rest in the barn. It’s the kind of thing that lends an atmosphere to the place and I don’t care whether it sells or not. We got it for a song. Some. I starting nuzzling her tits as I wrapped my arms around her waist and ran my hands in under her shirt. I kissed and licked as if it were a pie-eating contest. Then she made her announcement. I have spent a good deal of time thinking back on this. I have tracked and traced, and pinpointed. I attribute that precise moment to being the opening of one big fucking can of worms."Let's see if the car is unlocked. I want to get in the back," she said sliding against me and off the back of the patrol car. (Come again? -- Don't mind if I do.)"Shirsten." My hormones quickly jumped back behind their own battle lines. I could hear the orders being given to ready the heavy artillery. Somewhere a trumpet sounded. I think I heard the hormone general issuing an inspirational speech."I don't think that's a good idea," I said, tying to sound as firm as I could. The hormone chaplain was reading from a book of Psalms. Shirsten's face did something I had not seen before. A tactic of irresistible means..
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