Chance to be King

 

Chance to be King Sue Brown

 

Published by Silver Publishing  Publisher of Erotic Romance

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer. WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000." Cover Artist: Reese Dante Editor: Alison Todd Chance to be King © 2010 Sue Brown ISBN # 978-1-920468-49-1 All rights reserved. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. PUBLISHER SILVER PUBLISHING http://www.silverpublishing.info

 

 

Dedication: For my kids who are forever nagging me to get off the computer, and Maria and Kally who are the best pom-pom wavers a girl could have. Not forgetting my dog, who constantly reminds me that walking is a great way to have an uninterrupted think about 'my boys'.

 

Chance to be King

by Sue Brown

Chapter 1 Mocking, Eric thought as he approached the roadside bar. The brightly lit arm of the neon red cowboy was definitely mocking. Eric cursed loudly, breaking the silence in the truck as he realized that, according to the directions, he'd not only missed the turn to the cottage but now also had to turn the vehicle around to find a small, almost non-existent road in total darkness. Toby whined hopefully in his ear as the truck slowed down to pull into the parking lot of the bar. Eric sighed. He was as anxious to get out of the truck and stretch his legs as his dogs were. "Not long now, boy, I promise." Or at least I hope not. He reached back to scratch Toby behind the ears, feeling the dog lean forward to try and lick his face. Eric pushed the dog away as he flicked the indicators and pulled into the parking lot; he should've been doing this journey in the daylight but filming had over-run the previous day and he'd been too tired to get moving as early as planned. In his haste and fatigue Eric swung the truck's wheel too sharply and almost ran over a man standing by a dark-colored SUV. The man only saved himself by leaping to one side and Eric watched as the man slammed into the 5 

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passenger vehicle hard enough to make it shudder before sliding into an ungainly heap on the ground. "Fuck!" Eric jumped out of the truck to see if the guy was hurt. "You okay, dude? I'm so sorry, I didn't see you standing there." He leaned over to offer him a hand. The man scowled as he was pulled to his feet. "You make a habit of trying to kill people?" A few inches shorter than Eric, he still had to be just over six feet. Nice. Eric ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Only when I'm exhausted, lost, and shoulda stopped driving two hours ago," he admitted. "Lost, huh?" The man was brushing off his ass. "Where are you supposed to be going?" Now that he wasn't so angry, the stranger's voice was a smooth, quiet drawl. "Silver Lake. I missed the turn in the dark." "Why do you want the lake?" The man's guarded reply set Eric back a bit. Not sure of the reason for the sudden tension, Eric looked away. "I'm renting a cottage there. Small place; one bedroom and a fireplace was the description. I meant to get here in the light but I was late leaving LA, and then the dogs needed a run…" Eric trailed off, aware he was rambling. "I know the place," the man admitted.

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"My name's Eric. Eric Pawlowski." Eric stuck out his hand again and they shook hands, the other man wincing as Eric pressed against the scraped skin on his palm. "Sorry. Is your hand all right?" "It's fine, just a little graze. My name's Thomas, Thomas Clay. If you want, I can direct you back to the cottage." "That would be great. I'm beat." On cue, Eric yawned. In the dim light Eric could see Thomas frowning. "Sure you're awake enough to drive?" Trying to suppress another yawn, Eric said, "Not really, but me and the dogs have had a long day and we just want some food and a bed for the night." Thomas looked into Eric's truck where Millie and Toby, his chocolate Labradors, were slumped over the back seat, looking disgruntled and bored as they continued to be confined. "Nice dogs," he said admiringly. "Follow me. I'll show you where it is." Eric went to ask, "Are you sure?" but it came out as a loud yawn instead. Thomas laughed. It was a nice laugh, deep and throaty, and it would've provoked an answering response in Eric if only he could have stopped the damn yawning.

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"Yeah, I'm sure. You'll be asleep standing up if we hang around any longer. Just give me a minute to say goodbye to my friends." Eric nodded his agreement and slid into the driver's seat of his car murmuring, "Not long now, kids." Toby gave a derisive snort. Worried he was going to fall asleep completely, Eric waited impatiently for his rescuer to return, but Thomas was true to his word and returned within a couple of minutes, holding a box in front of him. The SUV's hazard lights flashed and Thomas got in. Within a couple of minutes Eric was following the vehicle down the road, cranking the window wide open to let the cool evening breeze blow across his face; anything to stay awake long enough to get to his destination. After a couple of miles the vehicle in front started slowing down. Eric followed it as his guide turned left onto what, in the dark, appeared to be little more than a dirt road. He was grateful for Thomas' assistance because he knew he'd have had little chance of finding it himself. They stopped outside a building and Eric looked eagerly at his new home but the lack of light made it impossible to see much in the dark, despite the lights from the two vehicles. Thomas got out of his vehicle and walked towards Eric. Switching off the engine, Eric got out of the truck, trying and failing to suppress yet another yawn. 8 

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"We're here," Thomas said in his deep drawl. Any other time Eric might have found it sexy; now he just wanted to hit the hay. First though, the dogs needed to stretch their legs and they all needed some food. He opened the door to let the dogs out. Toby was out in a flash, Millie following at a more sedate pace. After a few minutes of chasing each other in relief at being out of truck they sniffed at their rescuer and then lost interest, far more interested in following the sharp night scents along the track. After watching them briefly, Thomas said, "They'll be fine for a few minutes. No-one comes along here much except the odd fisherman, and that's only by permission of the land-owner. Have you got the key?" Eric nodded. "Uh-huh." He ducked into the car and felt around in the glove compartment until he found the envelope with the key. "Here it is." Thomas held his hand out for the key. At Eric's hesitation —Thomas was a complete stranger, after all— he said, "I know the cottage. Let me get you in and the lights on and then I'll leave you in peace." Too tired to argue, Eric handed over the key and watched as Thomas opened the cottage door, unerringly finding the light switch in the total blackness. Eric went back to the car and dug out a duffel bag containing some 9 

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overnight gear and a small amount of food for the hounds. He wished he'd thought to pick up some pre-made food for himself en route, he felt way too tired to cook. The cottage was blazing with light by the time Eric stumbled into the kitchen and Thomas was emerging from what Eric assumed was the basement, his hands grubby. "There'll be some hot water for you to wash up but you'll have to give it a while. You're a bit low on oil, though." "Thanks. I can deal with the oil tomorrow," Eric yawned again. Thomas smiled, Eric able to see it properly now they were in the light. Even though his eyes were half closed, Eric was able to see Thomas was a good looking man. Hell, he was more than good looking; he was stunning. Damn, wasn't it just typical Eric felt too tired to ask him to stay for a coffee? "I brought you dinner." Thomas pointed to the box on the kitchen table. "And the coffee pot is on." Eric moaned slightly in appreciation. "You're an angel, that's what you are. A beautiful angel." Tiredness had obviously got the better of his tongue. "Let me find the money." He dug in his pocket for loose change.

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The smile slipped a little on Thomas' face but all he said was, "Buy me a beer another time. I'll swing by in the morning to check you're okay. Night, Eric." Eric bade Thomas good night and called the dogs in for their kibble. Fifteen minutes later found the three of them sacked out on the large bed, their stomachs full, wrapped in blankets against the chill and oblivious to their new surroundings. **** The noise was what initially penetrated his sleep; or rather, the lack of familiar noise. There was no quiet thrum of the air conditioning or the sounds of his maid, Maria, as she swore at the vacuum cleaner. Instead he heard birdsong and Millie, yipping and twitching in her dreams. Eric hauled himself out of bed, wincing a little as he felt the twinges in his lower back. Thank goodness he wasn't going to sleep on this bed for any length of time; otherwise he might have to buy a new mattress. The one on this bed was fine for most people, he guessed, but his back had been wrecked by the work he did and he usually slept on an orthopedic mattress.

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Toby sat up expectantly as Eric got dressed. He grinned and snapped his fingers. The dogs leapt off the bed and barked hopefully around his feet. "Yeah, come on, let's explore." They left the cottage and followed what Eric hoped was the path to the lake. When he'd looked for somewhere to take a vacation it had been essential to find a place with plenty of land so he could walk his dogs. This place, with the whole of the area around the lake accessible, had seemed ideal; and more to the point, it was private land so Eric didn't have to worry about unwanted attention. It was a beautiful morning, before the heat of the day really got a chance to set in. The air was still slightly crisp and Eric shivered a little in his thin t-shirt, wishing he'd brought his hoodie. Deciding against going back for it, he walked a bit quicker. He would probably go for a run most mornings if the paths were safe enough. They reached the lake within five minutes, Toby barking joyfully as he scattered some of the birds feeding at the lakeside. "You're supposed to make nice with the locals, not frighten them to death." Eric scolded him. The dog gave a sloppy grin, his large tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, and took no notice as he ran around in circles. Millie ignored them both as she raced ahead.

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Eric paused for a minute to take in his surroundings. The lake was huge, surrounded by reeds and banked in places by sandy beaches. A short note in the paperwork said it was suitable to swim in and Eric had brought his trunks hopefully. There seemed to be a narrow path following the shoreline. Eric called to the dogs and set off to follow it. He didn't necessarily want to explore all of it today but he did think the dogs would benefit from a long walk after being cooped up in the truck for most of the previous day. In places the overhanging branches meant Eric needed to duck, one of the disadvantages of being well over six feet tall; the dogs, however, had no such issues and they plowed on eagerly ahead. Their enthusiasm meant he lost sight of them until he reached a clearer spot in the trees. He could hear splashing up ahead and smiled to himself; Millie was a terror for getting in the water, be it puddle or pond. Toby was a bit more of a wimp and would dance around the edges before finally getting up the courage to venture in. He finally reached the shoreline to see Millie in the water as he expected; however, the man playing with her as she swam around was a surprise. He'd obviously been swimming because he was bare from the waist up and, oh fuck, he was a vision: lean muscles, firm abs, and dark 13 

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nipples against tanned skin. Yummy. Not that Eric was looking closely. At all. Okay, maybe it didn't take much for Eric to react to a gorgeous man, dancing half naked in cold water. Eric squinted as he looked a bit closer. Wasn't this his rescuer from last night? Tim, Tony, Thomas… that was it, Thomas. "Morning," he drawled as he watched them play, "Hope she's not bothering you too much." Thomas looked up as Eric spoke, and stopped horsing around. Millie gave a disappointed bark as she paddled and nudged his hand hopefully. He ran his hands though his hair to get the drips out of his face, his muscles rippling in a most distracting way. Eric's cock was quite appreciative and twitched in his sweats. "Thought I recognized her. I don't get too many dogs rushing to join me in my morning swim." "Sorry, she never can resist getting in the water." Eric was trying hard to concentrate on the conversation, but really, most of his attention was taken by the view in front of him. He spent his days surrounded by handsome men and beautiful women but this man took his breath away. His dark blonde hair curled damply around his ears and his bright blue eyes sparkled in amusement. Damn, could Eric get more girly? "Eric?" 14 

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Eric blinked. "Uh… yes?" He'd been so busy staring at the water droplets running down Thomas' chest… and oh… were they freckles? Eric couldn't tell from this distance. "Earth to Eric?" He dragged eyes reluctantly away from Thomas' body to his face, not that it was any less distracting with those eyes; fuck, those eyes. "Yes?" Thomas was smirking at him unashamedly. "Would you mind calling your dog back? I'm getting cold now and I'd like to get out." Eric stared at him stupidly for a minute then his brain finally got on board with the conversation. "Yes… I mean… sorry… Millie, come here girl." Fortunately Millie seemed to be more intelligent than her owner and obediently swam towards the sandy beach. She got and shook herself— all over Thomas' towel which lay folded neatly on the sand. "Millie! Away! I'm so sorry, Thomas!" Eric tried to lead his soaking wet dog away from the towel but Millie thought it was a game and jumped around, soaking the towel even more as the water flew from her fur. Rolling his eyes, Thomas waded out of the water and picked up his soggy towel. Toby growled and latched 15 

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onto the end of it, obviously wanting to get into the game, too. The harder Thomas tugged, the firmer Toby held onto it. "Toby, let go!" Eric said firmly. Toby just held on tighter, growling and shaking his head, a huge doggy smile on his face. "Jesus Christ! If I'd known I was gonna end up this sweaty I'd have done this first and then gone for a swim," Thomas panted as he slowly lost ground on the amount of towel in his hands. Eric was not thinking about the mental image of Thomas, sweat droplets trickling down his chest that Eric was reaching forward to lick slowly… No, he wasn't. Eric was hanging on to Thomas' end of the towel and the two men pulled together. Millie was wagging her tail furiously on the sidelines, thinking it was a great game. "I've given up apologizing for my dogs. We normally run away before anyone can identify us." "Good idea. Toby, drop." Thomas stopped tugging. Eric's jaw dropped open as the sharp tone of voice caused the dog to immediately let go of the soggy material and sit back on his haunches, looking downcast. "How did you get him to do that?" Thomas grinned at him. "Mind-ray telepathy, dude. I told him I'd chop his balls off if he didn't let go." 16 

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Startled, and more than a little concerned for the well-being of his dog, Eric edged a little closer to his pets. Chuckling outright at Eric's protective expression, Thomas tried to dry himself with the only section of the towel not mangled by Toby's teeth. "Please tell me you were joking. Anyway, he's already been done." Thomas looked confused. "Been done?" "Had his balls chopped." Eric whispered with his hands over his dog's ears. "Ah," Thomas nodded sagely, "I'll have to think of a new threat." He shivered in the early morning air, rubbing at his arms as goosebumps dappled his skin in a most distracting way. "I think I'd better get back to my house before I freeze to death." Telling himself he wasn't disappointed, Eric asked, "Where do you live?" He couldn't see any buildings in the immediate vicinity of the lake apart from his cottage. "Over that way a little," Thomas waved a vague hand in the direction of some trees. Wherever it was it must be well set back because Eric couldn't see a thing. Eric's stomach suddenly growled loudly, breaking the silence. Thomas chuckled. "Better go feed the beast before it breaks out."

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"Fuck you," Eric said easily, then went bright red as he realized what he'd said to a complete stranger, even if he was a totally hot dude. Thomas was shaking his head as he laughed. "Not this time, cowboy. I never put out on a first date." Did this mean he'd been considering putting out? Eric really hoped he’d been reading the signals right but he was fairly sure the attraction had been mutual. Deciding not to push it this time he whistled for the dogs, who were sniffing at something farther down the beach. Saying goodbye to Thomas, Eric moved off towards the cottage. He definitely needed breakfast. Thomas didn't seem in any rush to move, though, despite his previous statement, because Eric could feel the man's eyes on his back for quite a while. He chanced a look back. Thomas was staring after him, his blue eyes shuttered as he watched Eric leave. **** Eric was exhausted. By the time he unpacked his gear, all he wanted to do was lie on the sofa and doze. After not having a vacation longer than four consecutive days in two years, the strain was showing. He could feel the edges

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of another migraine coming on, even though the last one occurred less than a month ago. He needed to find a store somewhere to pick up food for himself and the dogs, plus some oil for the heater. Eric sat down for five minutes, only to wake up in almost pitch black. For a moment he was completely disorientated, not sure where he was. Then he remembered; vacation, remote cottage, hot neighbor! Banging on the door set the dogs barking. Eric reluctantly heaved himself off the sofa and then stumbled around to find the kitchen door in the darkness. On the other side of the door was the neighbor, holding a pot that smelled heavenly. He had his free hand raised as if he was about to knock again Eric blinked sleepily and yawned again. "Evening, Thomas. It is evening, isn't it?" Thomas smiled at him as he held out the pot. "I thought you might not have had a chance to get to the local store so I brought you some dinner. Beef pot roast." Still sleep-fuddled, Eric made no move to take it and Thomas' smile slipped a little. "Uh, well, maybe I should have asked first." He stepped back as if to leave but fortunately Eric's brain caught up and he leaped forward to stop his dinner (and hot neighbor — priority on the stomach) leaving. 19 

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"Don't go. I was sleeping. It smells wonderful. I just woke up. Would you like to join me?" Aware he was babbling, Eric shut his mouth with an audible snap. Thomas moved past bewildered straight onto the expression reserved for small children and the mentally challenged. "Shall we go inside? We could eat it here but it might be messy without plates and forks." "I— uh— yeah— whatever— plates— yeah." "Babbling again." Thomas said gently as he moved past Eric into the kitchen. Eric groaned inwardly. He was a grown man behaving like a thirteen year old on a first date. He fumbled clumsily for the light switch, still not totally familiar with the layout of the room (or awake). Thomas saw what he was doing and leaned forward, illuminating the room with one flick of a switch. "Sit down before you fall, 'Ric." Thomas said, pushing him into the nearest chair. Eric shook his head to clear the fuzziness. "I'm not normally quite so…" "Dorky? Slow?" suggested Thomas helpfully. Eric glared at him. "I was gonna say tired." "That'll work too," agreed Thomas as he loaded Eric's plate with enough meat and vegetables to feed a family of four for a week… or an Eric Pawlowski. 20 

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He managed to wait until Thomas served himself; his momma had taught him some manners. "This is really kind of you," he tried to say around a mouthful of slowcooked beef melting in his mouth. Thomas shook his head, seemingly amused. "Eat, then talk." Eric nodded, scooping more food into his mouth than was really polite. Thomas watched the demolition of his cooking with increasing amazement. "I was going to suggest the dogs had the rest," He grinned as Eric whimpered in protest, "but they can have some of the gravy on their kibble." Thomas loaded Eric's plate up again and sat back down to his own dinner, the dogs milling around their feet in hopeful anticipation of some scraps. Eric pretended not to notice Thomas passing them some pieces of beef. The pot was totally empty and he'd scraped around the inside with some homemade bread, thoughtfully provided by the other man, before Eric sat back, replete. He tried to hide a satisfied belch but by the twitch of Thomas' lips, his attempt failed. "You do realize I brought enough for three days, don't you?" "I thought I'd save time and eat it before it had a chance to go bad. 'Sides, tomorrow night I'm gonna take 21 

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you out to dinner to say thanks." Eric informed him, then promptly blushed as he realized how presumptuous he sounded. "Done." Thomas agreed. "If you like we can go to Bob's." "Bob's?" "The local bar. Slightly shabby but great food. You tried to run me down in the parking lot last night." Thomas gave him a smirk. Eric sighed theatrically. "You're not gonna let me forget that, are you?" "Nope." Thomas pushed back his chair and started collecting the plates. "You don't have to do that. Here, let me help." Eric pushed back his chair and took the pot and their glasses over to the sink. The room wasn't very big and the two men, both over six foot, ended up tripping over each other. Thomas shoved a dish towel in his hand. "I'll wash, you dry. Stay!" he ordered. "Woof!" said Eric, hanging his tongue out the side of his mouth like Millie and Toby. "Hah! Suppose you think that's funny?" "We thought so, didn't we, girl?" Eric scratched Millie gently behind the ears; she leaned happily into his touch, obviously enjoying the affection. He looked up to 22 

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catch Thomas smiling fondly at both of them. The man looked a little embarrassed when he realized he'd been caught. They finished the dishes to the accompaniment of Eric's yawning. Thomas stowed the last of the plates away and picked up his Crockpot. "You really need this vacation, don't you?" he commented, looking at Eric who currently leaned against the table, unsuccessfully trying to conceal another yawn. "Hell yes. It's been too long coming and I had to fight to get this one." Thomas stared at him curiously. "What do you do, 'Ric?" "I work in Hollywood." It was a bland answer covering a multitude of sins and giving away nothing. Thomas obviously thought so too because he frowned. "I'll pick you up tomorrow, 'bout eight." At Eric's look of incomprehension, he said, "Bob's? Or don't you want to take me out any more?" "Course I do, idiot." Eric said, smacking Thomas on the arm. "Ow! Jesus!" Thomas clutched his arm in pain. "What do you do in Hollywood? Beat people up for a living?" "Something like that," Eric agreed. 23 

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Thomas rubbed at the sore spot. "Remind me not to get on your bad side, dude" he grumbled. "If you keep feeding me like tonight I don't think there'll be any problem there." Eric assured him. "You only want me for my cooking skills," Thomas mourned. Eric leaned forward into Thomas' space. Thomas had to tilt his head back to look up at him, and didn't that give Eric a little thrill? "You haven't actually offered me anything else… yet." They were so close, almost close enough for him to lean forward and kiss Thomas. He was just deciding whether the man would allow him to take that step when another yawn caught him by surprise. There was nothing like a huge gaping mouth, probably with the remains of dinner, to put someone off kissing you. The moment was most definitely lost but the look in Thomas' eyes gave Eric a feeling that it was only postponed, not mislaid forever. Thomas turned to leave. "I'll see you tomorrow, 'Ric." "I like you doing that." Thomas looked confused. "What?" "Calling me 'Ric. It's been a long time since anyone has." Why did I just admit that? Eric thought, off-balance.

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"Didn't even notice I was doing it. Well, night… 'Ric." "Goodnight…" "Call me Tommy and your balls are mine." "Promises, promises." Eric grinned cockily at Thomas as he walked out the door.

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Chapter 2 The next morning, Eric still felt sluggish and he wondered how long it would take to get his energy levels back to anywhere near normal. He made himself a large pot of coffee and drank it black because he still hadn't been food shopping. As he sat at the kitchen table and drank his coffee, Millie nudged him, pointedly giving him a reminder that they were owed a walk from the previous night. "Five minutes, darlin'," he said wearily, rubbing behind her ears. It was more like twenty minutes before he felt up to moving, but eventually he collected their leads and whistled loudly. The dogs had been sleeping in a patch of sunshine in the front room but at Eric's call they were rushing past him to the open door. He hit the path to the lake and took a deep breath. The air was sharp, the smell of damp marshes hitting the back of his nose. It crossed his mind that the change in air could be contributing to his general sleepiness. As he rounded the bend, Thomas was ahead of him. He just had time to notice the man was in tight, ass-fitting jeans and a deep green t-shirt before the dogs spotted him. Eric opened his mouth to shout a warning but he was too 26 

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late; Toby jumped playfully at Thomas' back, tumbling him forwards onto the grass. "Oof!" Thomas landed heavily onto the hard ground, the air forced out of his lungs by a solid lump of dog landing on his back. "Toby, off!" roared Eric as he jogged up to the fallen man. Toby obediently shifted one paw off him. Eric grabbed him by the collar and yanked the dog off, then bent down and lifted Thomas back onto his feet. He was brushing him off when he caught sight of Thomas' raised eyebrow. "What?" "Is it just a chance to molest me, 'Ric?" "What do you mean?" Eric frowned, genuinely confused. "Your hand is on my ass. The dogs knock me down and you get to feel me up?" Eric looked down. His hand was indeed cupped around Thomas' butt and it fitted just fine. "Well?" Eric squeezed once deliberately, smirking as Thomas gnawed on his lip, and then raised his hand a fraction but didn't take it away, the heat of his hand still between them. "It worked, didn't it? But if I was going to molest you, Tom, I wouldn't need to use my dogs." 27 

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If anything Thomas' eyebrow raised even higher. They were standing so close Eric could smell the minty toothpaste on his breath. "That confident, huh?" Thomas' voice sounded like stream water trickling over gravel and it went straight to Eric's dick. Eric chanced a look at Thomas' face. Bastard knew exactly what sort of turmoil he was causing Eric. He shifted slightly, deliberately brushing up against Thomas' hip and watching the man's eyes widen as he felt the reaction he'd caused. "Do you think my confidence is misplaced?" Eric could do low and gravelly, too. He couldn't stop the slight grind forward and was ridiculously pleased to note the hitch in Thomas' breathing. "No, I don't think so." Thomas' ridiculously long lashes fluttered against his cheeks and he was flushed. Eric's hand closed the gap and landed on Thomas' denim-clad ass again, and he really needed to kiss this man right fucking now. He was interrupted by the sound of Millie growling. "Not now, Millie." he said, his eyes still trained on Thomas' mouth. As he tilted his head, he experienced a frisson of desire as Thomas parted his lips and leaned upwards eagerly. Both dogs started barking angrily. 28 

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The two men looked up to see another man walking towards them along the path; he was still some distance away. Immediately, Thomas tensed up and almost shook his hand off. Eric took a step back and watched as the man approached. He held a warning hand on the collars of Toby and Millie, the tense moment communicating itself to the dogs in their alert stance. "Who are you? What are you doing here? This is private property. You're trespassing." All sign of lazy arousal was gone as Thomas barked out the questions. Eric could feel the tension in his body and his face had that guarded look he'd noted when they first met. The man —in his late twenties, Eric would guess— held up his hands and gave them a friendly smile, which Eric noticed didn't reach his eyes. He was slight and had fair hair, good looking if you liked that sort of thing. Personally, he did nothing for Eric. The stranger was substantially shorter than either Thomas or himself and Eric didn't feel unduly threatened by him. "I'm sorry. I'm new to the area and got a little lost." He was difficult to understand. "I turned off thinking this was the road to my house." "It isn't. Where are you staying?" Thomas' voice was cold and harsh. 29 

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The man waved a hand towards the marshes. "Over there… somewhere." Thomas didn't bother to follow the direction of his hand. "You need to leave. Now." Eric was hard put not to stare at him open-mouthed for his rudeness. Thomas had gone out of way to be polite and friendly to Eric, yet he was positively hostile to this poor man. "Tom," he started. "Not now, Eric." snapped Thomas, his eyes not leaving the other man's face. His attitude had permeated to the dogs and they sat at Eric's feet, their hackles raised and teeth bared. "I'm going." The man started backing away, his hands held open in a non-threatening gesture. "The path is that way!" Thomas pointed in the correct direction and the man walked off, Thomas' hard eyes following him all the way. The dogs stood up and whined anxiously at Eric and he bent down to scratch both their heads reassuringly. Thomas hadn't relaxed one iota and Eric didn't have a clue what the problem was. It wasn't like the guy tried to hurt them or anything. He tried again. "Tom…"

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Thomas' eyes snapped back to look at his. "Later," And he walked off, following the trespasser, to leave Eric staring open-mouthed at him. **** By seven o'clock, Eric was ready to go out— if it was still on. He wasn't sure what was happening anymore; or more to the point, what the hell this morning's little scene was all about. It left him restless and unsettled for the rest of the day. He'd given the dogs a long walk and spent most of it running though Thomas' freak-out in his head. In the end he gave up and finished the walk throwing sticks as far as he could into the lake for the dogs to retrieve. The afternoon was spent food shopping and nosing around the local area. Grafton was a small town, so it didn't take long, and the elderly couple at the grocery store seemed friendly enough. He could see the curiosity in their eyes when he let slip he was staying in the cottage on Silver Lake but they did nothing more than wish him a nice day. He couldn't decide what to wear. Since he hadn't packed for anything other than casual, a newish black tshirt and tight-fitting jeans were about as stylish as he could get. Besides, he didn't think Bob's bar was going to worry whether he was dressed in his Sunday best. 31 

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Eric shook his head to try and get rid of his Mom's tsking. It was one thing to have his Mom have a go at him for what he wore to the premieres, if she had her way he'd be wearing a monkey suit, but she could keep the hell out of his head when he was going on a date. If it was a date. If Thomas turned up. The hour seemed to last an eternity until he heard the soft knocking at the door. Eric opened it to find Thomas biting at his nails. "Disgusting habit, I know," he admitted when he caught sight of Eric staring. Eric stood back, allowing Thomas to pass. He watched as Thomas stood in the middle of the room, smiling at him nervously. There was a tension between them that hadn't been there before. For once, Eric didn't fill the gap with mindless babble. He waited for Thomas to say something but the other man seemed to be struck dumb. He seemed to be struggling with himself to find the right words to say. In the end he said, "You pissed at me?" "A little," Eric admitted. "Look 'Ric," Thomas shuffled his feet, "I know I owe you an explanation but just… not now, okay?" When Eric didn't answer he said, "I just want a night out with you with no… issues." 32 

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Eric felt a little stung at that. "I've just met you and I don't appear to be the one with the issues," he pointed out. "I know, and I promise we'll talk. Just, not now. Please? Can we just go out, have a drink, and relax?" Eric nodded slowly, not completely sure he really wanted to go, now, but the way Thomas was silently begging him it seemed a little churlish to back out now. He picked up the keys to the cottage and his wallet. The dogs were sleeping off their walk and dinner so he just poked his head around the door to check they were okay; Toby raised a sleepy head and when he saw there was no leash in Eric's hand he huffed disgustedly and went back to sleep. **** The trip to the bar was conducted in relative silence, since Thomas was driving and Eric unsure if he should say anything. Thomas pulled into the lot and parked. As they got out of the SUV Eric could hear loud music coming from the bar and the sound of someone singing 'Bat Out Of Hell'. "Fuck, it's karaoke night!" Thomas swore softly beside him. Eric glanced at him, curious. "That a problem?"

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"I tend to avoid the bar when Bob's doing karaoke." Thomas admitted. "Can't sing?" Eric laughed. "Something like that," The response was short. "Never mind, dude, you're in good company. I've got a voice like a strangled cat. Course, it doesn't stop me having a go when I'm trashed." Thomas suddenly stopped and turned to him, his hands deep in his jacket pocket. "'Ric, listen man, there's something you need to know before we go in." He was about to speak again when the bar door banged open and two men, both worse the wear for alcohol, fell out, one of them swearing when he ended up face first in the dirt. The other one giggled and helped him up. They clung together for a few minutes, swaying gently. Eric was waiting for them both to fall down when they moved but, to his surprise, they managed slow progress to the parking lot. One of them looked up and saw Thomas and Eric watching them. A sloppy grin spread over his face. "Hey, Thomas, how ya doin'?" "Good, thanks, Doug. Had a good night?" The man nodded. Eric couldn't see his eyes but from the careful way the guy held his head, he would bet the world was going ass over teakettle.

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"'M good, jus' gettin' Slick, Dick, Dave, here, home." Eric tried not to laugh as Doug accidently stuck his fingers in the guy's mouth as he tried to point at him. Thomas nodded "Evening, Joe," Slick, Dick, Dave, or maybe even Joe, waved, his hand hitting Doug in the nose. "One all, don't you think?" murmured Thomas. "Yup," agreed Eric. He looked at the pair as they struggled across the lot. "They aren't going to drive home in that state, are they?" "Hell, I hope not!" Thomas frowned. He looked around and then said, "Is Myrna picking you up, Doug?" Doug screwed up his face as if he were thinking about the answer to a difficult question. "Yes," he said eventually. As if on cue an old Chevy pulled into the parking lot and as Eric watched a woman leaned out and shrieked, "Haul your lazy good-fer-nothin' ass over here and bring that heap o' trash with you!" "Evening, Petal." Doug waved and grinned at her as if she'd sworn her undying love for him. The two drunks made their way over to the truck, their progress hampered by the fact they couldn't walk in a straight line for more than two steps. "Just get in the truck!" 35 

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Eric and Thomas watched as Doug and Joe finally managed to fall into the cab of the truck. "Does… Doug, was it?" Thomas nodded as Eric started his question, "Does he know where that guy lives?" "Joe? Yeah, why?" "He couldn't seem to remember his name," Eric pointed out. Thomas laughed. "Joe's his brother. He just had a hard time remembering which brother he was propping up. It could have just as well been Slick, Dick, or Dave." "You're kidding me!" A small smile played across Thomas' lips. "Do you live here?" Eric looked at the smirk on his face and elbowed him in the ribs. Thomas made a sound of protest, then danced out of the way. "What is it with you and your mutts damaging my ribs? A guy's gotta breathe!" Instantly Eric was transported to the memory of Thomas, emerging bare-chested from the lake. Without realizing it he sighed: a happy place to be. "Much as I like the parking lot ─such happy memories of nearly being run over─ weren't we going to get a drink?"

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Eric came back from his happy place to see Thomas almost at the bar door, leaving him behind. Flushing guiltily, he closed the gap between them and they walked into the bar. Stale cigarette smoke of ages past, bare boards, a wall of sound, and lots of people slammed into Eric as he went through the door. Bob's was obviously the place to be. On the stage someone was doing a passable rendition of 'Born In The USA'. Eric blinked when he realized it was a woman. Thomas caught him looking at the stage. "She's good, isn't she?" "Really good," Eric agreed. "Just don't get into an argument with Trish. You won't win." Eric looked at the muscles the singer was packing. "I can see that." he said faintly. Even at two hundred and thirty-five pounds of solid muscle he wasn't convinced he'd come off best in an argument with Trish. They walked up to the packed bar. As Thomas tried to weave his way through the crowd, various people clapped him on the back and Eric could hear people express surprise to see Thomas at Bob's on karaoke night. By the time they got to the bar Eric was wondering just what the big deal was with his date and karaoke. He shrugged 37 

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mentally. Not everyone liked making a total dork of themselves… not that they'd called it a date exactly. Eric had been guilty in the past of jumping the gun in his relationships. He didn't want to make that same mistake with Thomas. He really liked Thomas, even if the man did have a few odd quirks. "Evening, Thomas. Didn't expect to see you here tonight." A short, middle-aged man put a bottle in front of Thomas without even asking. "Forgot what night it was," Thomas said cryptically. "I brought a guest." He pointed to Eric. "This is Eric; he's staying at the cottage by the lake." Bob nodded his head. "Eric, good to meet you. Want one?" He waved another bottle at Eric. "Great. Thanks." Eric accepted the bottle and dug in his pockets for money. "I'll get this one," Thomas said as he handed over the money. Bob gave him his change and two more bottles. Eric didn't argue, figuring he could return the favor another time, and they moved away from the press of people at the bar, a bottle in each hand. "Thomas, great to see you here but…" Eric watched as Thomas leaned forward and kissed a petite, dark-haired woman on the cheek.

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"Forgot what night it was, Di. Meet Eric. He's at the cottage." "Good to meet you, Eric." She held out her hand, Eric swapped both bottles to one hand and they shook. She had a firm handshake. "How're you enjoying it at the cottage?" "Only arrived a couple of days ago but Thomas' been looking after me just fine, especially as he brought me dinner." Di raised her eyebrow at Thomas. "You never offer to bring me dinner, young man." Thomas was unfazed. "That's because you have a man of your own to make you dinner, you wicked woman. I don't suppose you've ever cooked in the whole time you've been married." "True enough," Di grinned. "He didn't marry me for my culinary skills." There was a derisive snort from behind Eric and he turned to see a man staring fondly at Di. "I'd have starved if I'd waited for you to feed me." She wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a mischievous grin. "You know exactly why you married me." "And you know exactly why you married me," he returned, nuzzling her neck. Neither of them seemed 39 

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bothered by their audience, or Thomas' eye-roll and longsuffering sigh. "Guys, we have a guest. Eric, the man groping Di is her husband, Pete. Pete, if you could put her down for a second… this is Eric who's staying at the cottage." Pete leaned over his wife and shook hands with Eric. "I gather Thomas' already cooking for you? However did you manage that one?" Eric opened his mouth to respond but was beaten to it by Di hooting with laughter. "You really need to ask why Thomas' gone all domestic?" Thomas snorted loudly. "God, why do I put up with you two? Ignore them, 'Ric. They're only jealous because I've never cooked for them." Amused by the banter between the friends, Eric smiled, sliding his arm around Thomas' and squeezing him lightly, noting Di's eyes widen as he did so. "He's only feeding me because he wants a second date." "Ha ha, very funny." Eric could feel Thomas tense beneath his fingers but he didn't pull away. "Shouldn't that be my line?" "I haven't fed you yet, and yes, I'm still hoping you're gonna put… OW!" Eric winced as Thomas' sharp elbow dug in the tender skin in his side.

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Pete and Di had been watching the exchange with increasing interest. "I think he's going to fit right in around here. You can keep him," Di informed Thomas. "Not sure I want to now," he groused. "Not if he gets your approval. It would be like my boyfriend being chosen by my mother." Di snorted. "Your mother would have seen Eric and kept him for herself." "I'm not sure I fancy being anybody's kept boy," mused Eric. "Fine. I won't bother bringing around any more food," Thomas mock-pouted. Eric's stomach rumbled on cue. "Predictable much!" Thomas smiled up at him, his eyes crinkling in a way Eric found completely irresistible. He really wanted to bend down and kiss Thomas, but in the middle of a bar of strangers… not such a good move. "I can't help my stomach; I'm a growing boy and you promised me dinner… remember?" "You're buying… remember? Dinner it is. 'Course, not having to listen to this would have been awesome." Thomas winced as a dude with a small head and large hat massacred 'Eye Of The Tiger'. "You know… I might drag you up there if you're not careful." 41 

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"Oh, no, no, definitely not!" Thinking it might be fun, Eric put on his most winsome face. "Come on, it'll be fun," he wheedled, "We could order dinner and sing while we're waiting." He'd almost forgotten Pete and Di standing in front of them but their sharp intake of breath attracted his attention. He looked up to see their gazes both fixed on Thomas and the man in question giving them an almost imperceptible shake of the head. "Thomas?" he asked uncertainly. "No singing tonight, dude. Food and then I might consider putting out, if you're a good boy. 'Sides dinner should be coming just about now." Puzzled, Eric looked around. "But we didn't order anything." "When you eat here you only order one thing." "Which is?" Eric was concerned to know what he was going to be fed. "Half a cow." Thomas pointed to two large plates making their way towards them, almost obscuring the waitress. Eric went from concerned to ecstatic in short order."Ribs? Oh fuck me…" "Food first, 'Ric. Fuck later." Thomas was already moving forward to claim the plates, leaving behind an 42 

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open-mouthed Eric; Pete and Di seemed barely able contain their snickering. "Is he always so… forward?" Eric asked them. Di took a deep breath in an effort to calm herself down. "Nope. Normally he's really reserved around strangers. You just seem to bring out the filthy talk. He must really like you." Eric couldn't stop a large, satisfied smile spreading across his face. Di gave him a speculative look. "Looks like you feel the same way?" There was a lilt at the end that made it sound like a question. Feeling like he was being asked his intentions by an anxious parent and having only known the guy for a couple of days, Eric didn't really know what to say, but he nodded anyway. "'Ric, come and get your plate." Thomas was making his way towards him, hands laden with dinner. As Eric turned to move away, Di leaned forward and hissed, "Don't ask him to sing. Ever." Pete was nodding behind her in agreement. Eric said nothing, again, but just moved away to help Thomas. He was beginning to wonder what the fuck he'd gotten into. ****

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Despite his reservations, or maybe because of the half cow now residing inside him, Eric enjoyed a relaxed evening with Thomas. He didn't push the subject of singing again and the other man didn't mention it. They found a table in the corner and were almost able to ignore the karaoke, except for some of the more enthusiastic screeching; then Eric could see Thomas wincing as some of the women went searching for the higher notes. Thomas kept him plied with beer despite Eric's protestations, and that, combined with the heat and food, meant Eric was soon yawning hard. Thomas eyed his companion carefully. "When was the last time you did nothing, I mean, absolutely nothing?" Eric finished another yawn and sat back, parsing through the last couple of years in his head. He shook it ruefully. "Y'know, I can't remember. Been at least two years since I had more than a week off. I've been lucky. I've worked almost since I left school." "But you're absolutely exhausted, 'Ric." "'M not!" Eric promptly yawned again. "Well, maybe I am, but I'll be okay after a few days of rest and your cooking." With an eyebrow raised comically, Thomas pursed his lips as he was about to take a drink out of his bottle. 44 

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He'd drunk little beer, switching to soda as he was driving. "One neighborly act does not mean a lifetime of servitude." Eric said the first thing that popped into his head "Awwww, you thinking of becoming my wife?" "Fuck off!" Thomas retorted, not the least bit offended. "Come on, Sleeping Beauty, let's get you home to your bed." Eric wanted to protest that he was fine and it was too early to go home, but in truth bed sounded like a really good idea. He was going to spend most of his vacation asleep if he wasn't careful. He finished the bottle of beer and followed the older man out of the bar, stopping on his heels every time someone wanted to speak to Thomas. With the help of Thomas' skill in not getting involved in long conversations they finally walked outside. It was only then he realized Thomas must have paid for the meal. He fumbled in his jeans for his wallet, the beer and his tiredness slowing him down. Thomas observed this for a few minutes then he drawled, "Not that I mind watching you touch yourself but what are you looking for?" "Wallet. Gotta pay for dinner," Eric said, starting to worry as he failed to find his wallet.

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"Your wallet's in your jacket pocket, 'Ric, but don't worry about it. Just gives me an excuse to drag you out again." Eric finally located his wallet, and in the process the door keys to the cottage, with a sigh of relief. By this time they had reached the SUV. He got in the passenger side and closed the door. "So you're not gonna put out tonight?" Looking over his shoulder as he reversed out of the space —as he pointed out, Thomas preferred not to run over anyone, and Eric would have smacked him if the man hadn't been driving— Thomas shook his head. "Call me strange, but I prefer my partners to actually be conscious when I fuck them into the mattress." Eric shivered in anticipation and for a moment he regretted just how sleepy he actually was. "'Nother time," he murmured. "Another time, soon." Thomas agreed.

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Chapter 3 "Go 'way, Tom. Too tired to fuck." Eric reached out an arm to shove Thomas away. He'd been awakened from a deep sleep and was really grumpy about it. The object of his grumpiness licked his ear and woofed loudly. Eric frowned in his sleep; he couldn't remember Thomas barking in their previous encounters. The barking continued, louder and more urgent than before. "Not now. Stop licking me. Ow!" The licking turned to biting "Stop fucking biting me, dude." He coughed as the smoke got into his lungs. Smoke? Eric sat up in bed. Millie and Toby leaped at him in their urgency to attract his attention. Thomas wasn't in the room, of course. The room was rapidly filling with smoke. Fuck! The cottage was on fire. He coughed again, the action spurring his tired body to actually move. Since he already wore his sweats and tshirt, he grabbed his sneakers and cell and crawled to the door. It was warm. Not a good idea to go out that way. Fortunately the window of the bedroom opened easily. Lifting both dogs out, Eric climbed out after them and tumbled to the ground, wheezing. He didn't stop to look at the cottage until he was a safe distance away. When he did 47 

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turn, bright flames were licking through the kitchen and main room. Unable to think, and unable to process what a close call he'd just had, Eric dug out his cell and dialed 911. **** "Mr. Pow… Pawlacki?" Much too tired to correct the fireman standing at his side, Eric nodded wearily, his attention still on the burning carcass of his cottage. Toby and Millie were at his feet, huddling in close; Eric could feel them trembling under his hands. "Do you own the property?" "No. no…" he coughed, the smoke getting into his lungs. The fireman frowned. "I think the EMTs need to take a look at you." "I'm fine, just very tired." Eric said. "I'll need to contact the managing agents tomorrow I guess." "Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?" Eric shook his head. "No, I'm new to the area and I don't know anyone. I'll have to find a hotel. I can't think straight at the moment." He was so damned tired. Eric just

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wanted to lay his head down and sleep for a month. Maybe this would turn out to be a very bad dream. "Mr. Pawlowski will be staying with me." Turning in surprise, Eric saw Thomas standing behind them. Although he looked like he'd dressed in a hurry, compared to everyone else he looked immaculate. Eric became very conscious of the wreckage of his clothes and the tears running down his face from the smoke. "And you are?" inquired the fireman. "Thomas Clay. I live at the big house." The fireman nodded; obviously that was enough information for him to go on. "I own the cottage." Eric stared at him in shock. In all the time they had spoken Thomas had never once let on that he was Eric's landlord. Thomas seemed to be ignoring Eric for the moment. "…so if you have any reports, address them to me rather Mr. Pawlowski…" Thomas paused. "I don't think I've seen you before." "Sayers. My name is Peter Sayers, I'm new to the area. We'll need to talk to Mr. Palas—" "Pawlowski," corrected Thomas. Sayers inclined his head. "Mr. Pawlowski, tomorrow. And the police will want to talk to him as well."

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"That's fine, Mr. Sayers. We'll be at home all day. Come along, Eric." Thomas gripped Eric under the arm and turned him towards his truck. "Let's get out of here before they decide they want to talk to you tonight rather than tomorrow," he urged quietly. "But—" Eric stumbled, his tiredness making it difficult for him to form a coherent thought. "You need somewhere to stay and they need to talk to both of us. Two birds with one stone." Obviously seeing Eric's incomprehension, Thomas added, "Let me do the thinking and you do the sleeping, okay?" "Toby and Millie…" Eric's head snapped up. "I need to bring the dogs." Thomas rolled his eyes. "They're invited, too." Eric nodded gratefully. At last something he could understand. Obediently he followed Thomas away from the scene and towards his SUV, climbing in —well, slumping in, really— when Thomas opened the passenger door for him. Toby and Millie piled onto the back seat, whimpering slightly. Thomas was just walking around the front of the vehicle when the fireman jogged up to them. "Uh, Mr. Pawa— Pawlowski," he corrected himself, "Just one question. Where did you store the gasoline for your vehicle? 50 

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Eric frowned, his tired brain finding it hard to process the officer's question. "What gasoline? I didn't bring any with me, just what was in the truck." The fireman frowned as well. "We found a metal can near the cottage. As far as we can tell it was the accelerant used in the fire." "I didn't keep any at the cottage," interjected Thomas, "And there was none there before Eric— Mr. Pawlowski arrived." Peter Sayers nodded. "No question about whether it is arson, then. We'll need to ask you more questions." he said, looking at Eric. Thomas shook his head. "You surely can, but tomorrow. He's had a huge shock and he's dead on his feet." The fireman looked as if he was about to argue but Thomas pre-empted him by getting in the truck. Eric slumped gratefully back against the leather seats as he was driven away. As they drove Eric realized he had no clue where he was going. Thomas didn't seem to need to talk and the shock of the night's events combined with the late hour soon lulled Eric into an uneasy sleep. He woke to his arm being shaken slightly. "Come on, sleepy. Jeez dude, you're too big for me to carry you in." 51 

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"Huh?" Reluctantly, Eric cracked one eye open to discover Thomas giving him an amused, if exasperated, grin. "Time for bed, sleepyhead." He ruffled Eric's hair, grimacing as his hand came away covered in soot. "You need a shower." "Mmmm," agreed Eric. He almost fell out of the SUV, vaguely realizing they were now in a garage. Thomas steadied him, checking to make sure Eric was upright before calling the dogs and leading him into the main house. "I'll show to your room. The grand tour can wait until tomorrow. If you fall down, just make sure you miss me, okay?" "Uh-huh." Eric nodded and followed his host up the stairs, almost tripping over the dogs as they tried to stay as close as possible. Thomas showed him into a large room, turning on the bedside light to provide a dim illumination. "The bathroom is over here and there are fresh towels in the linen closet. Do you want a shower now?" "No." What Eric wanted was to be unconscious, like now! "But I stink of smoke and I think my clothes are stuck to me in places." He winced as sore places all over his body made themselves known. 52 

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Frowning, Thomas asked, "Are you sure you weren't burnt?" "No I think I'd be in more pain if I was. I'm pretty sure I'm just a little singed." "I'll leave you to get freshened up. Would you like a drink?" Thomas offered. Eric was suddenly aware of how parched he was. "Water would be great, thanks." Thomas nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him. Eric started taking off his shirt, grimacing as sore muscles stretched. He stripped with relief and wandered into the bathroom. A couple of minutes later he was standing under a hot spray of water, humming with relief as he washed the stink of the evening away, wincing as the water hit sore spots. He was too tired to stay in for very long, and once he was clean Eric shut off the water and reached for a towel. The bathroom was steamy. Eric dried off as best he could, wrapping the towel around his waist as he staggered tiredly back into the bedroom. There was a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants folded neatly on the bed. Unused to wearing anything in bed, Eric figured that as he was in someone else's house it was only good manners not to startle the host with the sight of his naked butt. 53 

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Come to think of it, Eric wasn't sure if there was a Mrs. Clay here. After all the heavy flirting he was pretty sure it wasn't a wife, but there might be a mother. Wearily, he unwrapped the towel and got into the pants; they were a little short in the leg but not too tight. He was just pulling the t-shirt over his head when there was a quiet knock at the door. "Uh, come in." Thomas poked his head around the door. "I have a cold bottle of water for you and a bowl of water for Millie and Toby." He hesitated in the doorway. "Thanks." Eric held out his hand for the bottle, the condensation dripping down the outside. He took a large gulp of the water, appreciating the coolness as it went down his parched throat. Even so, the taste and smell of the smoke was hard to shake off. Both dogs downed the water greedily, scrapping to lick the last drops out of the bowl. He put the bottle down on the nightstand to see Thomas frowning as he turned back. "Oh, sorry. Should I have put the bottle on something?" he apologized quickly. "What? No. I was just looking at your back." Eric was amused to see the faint stain of red on Thomas' cheeks, apparent even in the dim light of the bedroom. "I can see red marks."

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"Really?" Eric twisted, trying to see over his shoulder to have a look. "The t-shirt's rucked up," Thomas pointed out. "Take it off. I've got some cream which should ease any soreness." Eric really just wanted to fall on the bed and sleep but he obediently took it off. "Lay on the bed," Thomas ordered. "I'll be back in a minute." Thomas left the room and Eric collapsed untidily on top of the covers with a sigh of relief. He was almost asleep when Thomas returned. Feeling the mattress dip under him, Eric reluctantly opened one eye to find Thomas sitting next to him on the bed. Eric made to get up. Thomas just pushed him down, saying, "Lay back down. I'll just put some cream on the red patches." For a few minutes Thomas worked in silence, his fingers lightly spreading the ointment over Eric's skin. By the time he finished Eric was almost asleep again. He drowsily felt a soft blanket drape over him and then he really was asleep, not noticing as Thomas left the room or feeling the dogs creeping onto the bed to be near him. ****

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He awoke to the smell of fragrant coffee and every muscle in his body screaming for him not to move. "Eric?" There was a light pressure on his arm along with his name. "Uh?" Coherency was never his strong point in the middle of the night. "Sorry Eric, the police are here. You're gonna have to wake up now." "Smidanit," His voice was muffled as he buried his head back in the pillows. "Uh… If that was some comment about the middle of the night, I hate to disillusion you but it's three in the afternoon and I've sent them away once already." He groaned loudly at the mere thought of getting up. "Dogs?" "In my kitchen," Thomas said promptly, "working their way through my fridge." Eric rolled over onto his back and immediately wished he hadn't; every sore spot made him wince. He opened his eyes to see Thomas grinning at him. "Drink your coffee. I'll keep them entertained. There are fresh clothes at the end of the bed and a fresh toothbrush in the bathroom."

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Wearily, Eric sat up, running his hand through his hair. He just knew he'd have huge bed hair after falling asleep with it still damp. "I think you need to tame it a little," confirmed Thomas. "See you back downstairs. There'll be more coffee when you're ready." "Thanks," he yawned sleepily, not really wanting to get out of bed. Thomas left the room and went back downstairs to talk to the police. Eric finished his coffee and went into the bathroom. Staring bleary-eyed at his reflection in the mirror he realized it confirmed his worst fear about his hair: Animal from the Muppets looked back at him. Taming it would require more than a slick-back with water. A brief rummage in the bathroom cabinet revealed a half-used tub of hair gel. Score! He slicked some through his hair, taming the beast as best he could. The clothes were a little tight, and very short in the leg, but beggars couldn't be choosers and at this point he really was a beggar. At least until he could get to a store. Eric walked down the stairs and paused at the bottom, trying to remember where he was supposed to be going. He heard voices to his left. Opening the door, Eric discovered Thomas talking to two police officers in a large, 57 

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bright, airy room. They all looked up as Eric walked in and he paused, suddenly self-conscious, on the threshold. Thomas smiled at him. "There you are. Would you like some more coffee?" At Eric's nod he said, "I'll get you another cup. Ted, Mark, would you like some more?" The policemen both nodded and Eric was left alone with them as Thomas wandered around the corner. "Mr. Pawlowski?" the older policeman queried. He reminded Eric a little of James Garner with his handsome, craggy face and an easy twinkle in his eye. His companion was younger but seemed equally relaxed. They could have been father and son. Eric looked at them a little more closely. They probably were father and son. Eric held out his hand. "Eric Pawlowski," he confirmed. "Ted James, and this is my son, Mark." Ted said as he shook Eric's hand. "Saw you lookin'," he laughed. "Policing's a family business, then?" Eric asked, relaxed enough to let a hint of Texas creep back into his voice. Mark nodded, speaking for the first time. "Even Ma's a cop. Can't get away from us in Grafton." "Ted used to drive me mad as a young 'un. Every time I did something wrong he jumped on my case. He seemed to know what I was going to do before I even did 58 

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it," added Thomas, as he came back into the room with a tray of mugs and fragrant coffee that was making Eric's mouth water. At Eric's skeptical look, Ted laughed. "You think Thomas' too straitlaced to get out of line?" "Well, yes," "Don't let this calm exterior fool you. Scratch the surface and he's a real wild-child. Some of the stories I could tell you…" Thomas coughed; a flush spreading up his neck. "If you've finished embarrassing me, Ted, shall we get down to business?" Eric chuckled. "Ted, later I want to hear all about this wild-child here." He sat down in one of the easy chairs, ignoring Thomas' mock-scowl. "Do I get coffee or do I have to beg?" "After trying to find out my dirty secrets? You can beg." Eric smirked, trying to let his eyes convey exactly what he thought of the idea. It seemed to work, as Thomas blushed even harder when he realized what he'd just said. "So, uh, coffee and business?" Ted's amused voice cut across their exchange. Eric looked up to see both policemen watching them.

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"Sorry," Thomas muttered, tearing his eyes away from Eric's with obvious effort. Eric noted with satisfaction that his hands shook as he poured the coffee. "Where are the dogs?" Eric suddenly realized he hadn't seen them and felt guilty for ignoring them. Thomas handed him the coffee. "Sleeping off an enormous steak dinner in the conservatory. Last time I looked they'd found the patch of sunshine and were snoring." "You fed them steak? I'll never get them back," sighed Eric, pretending to be annoyed and trying not to feel jealous. "They woke you up last night, I believe?" Mark asked. Eric noticed he'd been watching Thomas almost obsessively, although Thomas didn't seem to pay any attention. He wondered if there was any history there. "Yeah," Eric confirmed. "I woke up to the sound of them barking and nudging me." "Thank God," muttered Thomas, giving him a heated look under his lashes. "I think they deserve their steak then, Mr. Pawlowski," Ted said. "Eric, please." "Eric. The cottage is virtually leveled. A few minutes later and you wouldn't have survived." 60 

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God. Promising his dogs a steak dinner every day for the rest of their lives, Eric turned guilty eyes on Thomas. His cottage was destroyed. "I'm so sorry, Tom." There was a sharp intake of breath from Mark but he ignored it as Thomas shook his head. "I don't care about the cottage. You're okay and that's all that matters." "Eric, we have to ask, because it was definitely arson. Is there anyone who may bear a grudge against you?" Shaking his head, Eric said, "No-one, apart from two people, should even know that I'm here. I… uh…" He trailed off, not sure how to continue. Ted gave Thomas a meaningful look. "Want me to leave?" Thomas asked, picking up on Eric's discomfort. "Maybe Eric would prefer it." Ted replied. Eric took a deep breath and shook his head. It wasn't like it was exactly a secret, and it would come out soon enough. He was visible enough that people would recognize him sooner or later. Better Thomas found out from him rather than a fan. "I'm an actor. I work in films." He watched Thomas' eyes widened slightly, then he could see as they became hooded; that guarded expression he was coming to 61 

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recognize. "I needed a break after my last film and came here. The only people who should know where I am are my agent and my publicist. Even my parents don't know I'm on vacation. I just wanted a normal vacation to unwind… me and the mutts." The last sentence was directed at Thomas, begging him to understand why he hadn't discussed it before. "I see." Ted wrote something down in his notebook. "We'll need a name and contact number for them both. Maybe you've had some crazy fans or potential stalkers who've been following you?" "A number over the years," agreed Eric, "But I'm not an A-list celebrity. I can't see why anyone would be following me, let alone trying to kill me." "I don’t think it makes much difference today, Eric. Even minor celebrities have their share of the crazies." the policeman pointed out. "What sort of films are you in?" asked Mark as he put down his coffee mug. "Anything we would have seen you in?" "Action, mainly." Eric reeled off half a dozen titles, all major box office releases over the last couple of years. He could see the recognition dawn on their faces. "Shit, you're Sky Davies!" Mark exclaimed. Even Ted looked impressed. 62 

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"That I am," Eric agreed. He knew this bit; questions about his films, possibly a request for an autograph. He didn't expect Thomas to get up and walk out of the room. When Eric rose to follow, Ted stopped him. "Sorry, Eric, but I still need a couple more questions answered." "But…" Ted gave him an apologetic but firm smile. "We'll be finished soon, Eric." Eric sat back down and resigned himself to waiting before he found out what exactly upset Thomas. Ted quickly took Eric through his activities of the month up until the fire of the previous night. "So nothing unusual has happened since you've been here?" Eric parsed through the last couple of days in his mind. "There was one thing. I'm not sure how significant it is…" "Yes?" Ted waited, pen poised expectantly. "Tom and I were walking the dogs this morning— yesterday morning," Mark stiffened but didn't say anything. It was definitely something to do with calling him 'Tom', Eric realized. "There was a man by the lake. Thomas got really upset and started yelling at him to leave or he'd

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report him for trespassing. But he was the same with me; guarded, I mean, until he knew where I was staying." "Thomas values his privacy," Ted said a little cautiously. "Yeah, I get that," Eric agreed. "But it's the only thing I can think of." "Did the man call you by name or give any indication he knew you?" Eric thought back through the brief conversation. All he could really remember was Thomas' hostility. "I don't think so. He said he was lost, that he'd come off the main road by accident. But Thomas didn't believe him." "No I didn't," agreed Thomas, appearing around the corner with a plate of food and the dogs. Eric almost missed Thomas' words in their noisy excitement to see him up and about. "You know yourself, Ted, there's no way you'd mistake the turning for the lake as a road to anywhere." "He could be staying somewhere in the area." Ted suggested. Thomas shrugged as he sat down. "He gave out some lame story but it was obvious he was he was lying." "How do you know?" Eric asked curiously. "I've lived here all my life. There is no house where he was pointing. Just marshland." 64 

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"Maybe he got confused," Eric suggested. Thomas shook his head. "'Ric, there are only two houses near the lake; this one and the cottage. The man was up to no good. Trust me." The words sent a shiver down Eric's spine and his fingers tightened in Toby's fur, making him yelp. Soothing the hurt apologetically, he devoted his attention to the dogs for a few minutes, trying to block out the conversation between the three men. He'd had his share of crazy letters but no one had ever attempted to hurt him before, at least, not beyond a bar-room brawl. "Eric? 'Ric?" Thomas' voice intruded on his reverie. "Huh. Sorry, what was that?" "Ted wants to know if you've seen the man before." Eric shook his head. "No. Definitely not. But we can give you a general description and you could run it by my agent and publicist." Ted and Mark got to their feet. "Well, we'll look into it, Thomas. Eric, if you could give us their phone numbers?" "Sure," Eric scrawled them on the notepad Mark handed him. Drew was going to be furious and as for Sarah… he winced as he thought of his agent's reaction. Loud wouldn't do it justice. He'd be lucky if he got let out of LA ever again. 65 

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The cops said goodbye and they'd be in touch as Thomas showed them out. Eric sat back down wondering what the hell to do next. He was still tired and his back was sore. "Still in pain?" Eric looked up to see Thomas watching him from the doorway, a perceptive look in his eyes. "A little," Eric admitted, trying to stretch and feeling his sore skin protest every movement. "How about more coffee, cream for your back, a large dinner, and you can fall asleep in front of a crap movie?" "Sounds awesome," Eric agreed enthusiastically, "Anything I can do?" "You pick the movie. The coffee's already on. I suppose you'd like a steak dinner, too." Thomas didn't wait for Eric's response, obviously deeming it a no-brainer. He left the room, returning a few minutes later with a full tray holding two coffee cups, a large pot of coffee, and a tube of cream. "Take your shirt off," he ordered as he placed the tray on the low table. "Coffee first?" Eric tried not to make it sound like he was whining like a three year old.

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"Take your t-shirt off and I will give you coffee," Thomas promised. Eric complied, hearing the slight hitch of breath behind him as he bared his skin. He looked over his shoulders. "Is it bad? It just feels a little sore." "No, not bad. Just a little red in places," Thomas' voice sounded a little strangled, and Eric looked up to catch his eyes traveling over Eric's back. Thomas suddenly realized Eric was watching him and he flushed guiltily, just like a small boy caught in the act. Saying nothing, Eric smirked as he accepted a mug of coffee. He drank it quietly, savoring the taste, as he felt slightly trembling fingers apply cream to his back. "You keep in good shape." observed Thomas, who'd obviously decided offense was the best form of defense. "Kinda one of the job requirements at the moment," agreed Eric, relaxing under Thomas' soothing fingers. "I'll bet," muttered Thomas. "So… you're Sky Davies, huh?" Worried, Eric twisted over his shoulder to look at Thomas. "Is that a problem?" Thomas looked up and caught his eye. "Not really I guess. I can understand why you kept it quiet. Ted and Mark will be discreet. They have good practice at that," he

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said cryptically as he patted Eric's shoulder gently. "All finished" "Have you actually seen any of my films?" Eric asked as he put his t-shirt back on. His skin did feel soothed and he made a mental note to get some of that cream for his next film. "Most of them, actually. I just didn't put two and two together." Eric's looked at Thomas incredulously. "What? I'm not completely isolated here. We do have a movie theatre nearby." Thomas seemed almost defensive. "I just wouldn't have thought action films were quite your style." "I may be queer but I'm still a guy. I like explosions as much as the next man. I suppose you think I'm into arty French films?" No. Well, yes. But actually, Eric got stuck on queer and hadn't really moved past that. "You're gay?" "Yes, yes I am. Is that a problem?" Thomas' voice had hardened and he sat back on his heels, a frown marring his face. "No." Thomas didn't look convinced. "Honestly Tom, it's not a problem. I'm gay, too."

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Thomas nodded slowly and his eyes softened a little. "I was pretty sure you were from the flirting, but we didn't really get that far." "I don't make an issue of it. You know what Hollywood is like." For some reason Eric felt the need to justify himself. "Are you in a relationship?" Thomas asked bluntly. The way his gaze focused on Eric intently made him feel like the question was significant. Eric gave Thomas a direct look. "No, I'm not. I haven't been for a long time. I've been too busy with my career and, well, it's not easy being in a long term straight relationship in my business, let alone a gay one." "I guess." Thomas got off the floor and wiped his hands on some tissues before sitting back on the sofa with his cup of coffee. Eric thought it was time for some direct questions of his own. "What about you? Are you seeing someone?" Shaking his head, Thomas said, "No, and like you, haven't been for a while. A long while. Been a few one night stands, though." Confessions on the table, they looked at each other, a little shy now they admitted they were both free and single. Eric was about to say something when his stomach

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got there first. The rumble broke the uncomfortable silence and made them both laugh. "Guess I should be feeding you that steak before your dogs get there first," Thomas got up and held out a hand to Eric. "Come on, let's feed you and then we can take them out for another walk." Eric let himself be hauled up and then followed Thomas into the kitchen. It was a huge, old-fashioned kitchen with a range in one corner and a large, well-worn pine table in the middle. Eric found it hard to equate this family room with the solitary, immaculate man he perceived Thomas to be. Smiling quizzically at Eric's expression Thomas asked, "Expecting lots of stainless steel?" "Was it that obvious?" "A little," Thomas chuckled. "But I grew up here. I love this room and all its memories of the family growing up together." "Do you see your family a lot?" Thomas hadn't mentioned them all that much but Eric wasn't sure whether they were still in contact. "Not much," admitted Thomas, "They're settled in England. I don't think they'll be back until Dad retires. Alex even has an English accent now." "You never wanted to move with them?" 70 

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"I did," Thomas stopped, his lips pursing together. "Ah, let's figure out the dinner." Recognizing when a subject was closed, Eric nodded in acknowledgement. "Can I help cook dinner?" "Not if you want to live." At Eric's raised eyebrow, Thomas said, "I'm not good at sharing my domain." Eric laughed. "Ah, a diva." At Thomas' glare he said, "That's fine with me. I'm a hopeless cook. I'll sit here and stay out of your way." "Better still, take the dogs out for a quick walk. But stay away from the cottage." Confused, Eric asked, "Why's that?" Walking over to where Eric was standing, Thomas laid a hand on his arm. "I don't want you to think about it too much today. Just walk the other side of the lake, please?" His blue eyes held Eric's in a serious look and Eric realized he liked the fact Thomas seemed to care about his feelings. "Okay, but I'm a big boy now, Mom." Thomas flipped him the finger. "Get outta here before I decide to feed your dinner to the beasts." "No! Please don't do that, Thomas. I'm really hungry." Eric begged. "I'm going, honest… if I knew where my sneakers were."

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"In the hall closet with your jacket," Thomas informed him as he started getting out the pans to cook dinner. "Be back in half an hour." Eric was so hungry he almost whined at the delay. Thomas must have seen his expression because he threw Eric a carrot. "A carrot?" he whimpered. "Well, if you don't want it…" Thomas began. Eric took a large bite. "Numf, 'S finme," he mumbled, even though he'd rather be chowing down on the steak. Thomas shooed him away and he went, grumbling under his breath. The dogs had retreated to the conservatory again to bask in the sunshine but when they heard the sounds of Eric rummaging in the closet they came to investigate. The sight of Eric putting on his sneakers made their tails wag furiously. The next few minutes were a mixture of him cursing as the dogs stepped over his hands as he tied his shoes and doggy breath as they noisily encouraged him to hurry it along. The late afternoon sunshine was warm enough not to need a jacket and the dogs bowled ahead of him as he finally got some fresh air. They seemed to know where they were going without his assistance, and in lieu of anything better to do, Eric followed them. 72 

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A minute later he could hear splashing and he cursed as he realized who would be rubbing down stinky, wet dogs very shortly. Jeez, would Thomas even let him back in the house? Perhaps he wouldn't send Eric away without his dinner. He could always eat it on the doorstep. He wasn't above begging. He reached the lake just as the dogs decided they'd enough and bounded out of the water. Eric was covered head to foot in lake water when they shook themselves thoroughly as close to their owner as they could manage. Eric was convinced they did it on purpose. "You evil, mangy mutts!" he yelled at them, and then chased them along the sandy beach. Toby and Millie raced ahead, barking loudly in excitement as their owner swore he would skin them and render them down for fat. The three of them ended up in a wet, stinking heap on the sandy ground, Eric laughing hysterically as Millie panted in his face and Toby shoved his wet muzzle along the bare skin of his stomach. Eric lay back as Millie planted her paws on his shoulders and he laughed until the tears streamed down his face. The mirth died away to hiccupping sobs as he realized that if he hadn't brought his dogs with him he would have died in the fire. Eric clutched onto his pets, ignoring their

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wet fur as he sobbed, shuddering in horror of what might have been. Sitting up, Eric stared across the lake to where the skeleton of the cottage remained. Thomas had asked him not to go and look but he wanted to see for himself what he'd escaped from. Just not today, he thought, as he curled round his pups on the sand. Seeming to sense his change in mood, the dogs snuggled in close as though they were comforting him. He only sat up, one dog on either side, when Thomas came into view. "Hey, steaks are done if you're ready." Thomas rolled his eyes as he caught sight of the state of his house guests. "Been having fun?" he asked mildly. "Guess you'll be needing some more clothes, then." Eric looked up at him and Thomas' face changed as he caught sight of Eric's expression. "Come on," he said. "Don't think now. You're fine, the dogs are fine. Just eat and sleep." He held out a hand and Eric allowed himself to be pulled up, Thomas placing a hand in the small of his back. It rested there, warm and comforting, as they walked back to the house, the dogs walking soberly on either side of them. As they arrived on the front doorstep Thomas looked at his guests and gave a short bark of laughter. 74 

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"There's no way you're coming in my house in that state." At Eric's dismayed look he said, "'Round the back to the kitchen, all of you." Eric and the dogs followed the path around the back of the house and found a well-worn wooden door, open, with Thomas holding two large towels in his hand. He handed one to Eric and they rubbed the worst of the muck and water off the dogs. "They're going to need a bath," Eric said mournfully, thinking of his steak getting cold. "Yeah," agreed Thomas, "but you need to eat first. We'll do it later. They can stay in here while we eat." Eric got to his feet and looked at the mud and sand adorning his own clothes. "I don't think I'm any cleaner than the dogs," he admitted. Thomas paused for a minute. "Stay there." He left the kitchen only to return a couple of minutes later with a bathrobe. "Take those wet clothes off. I'll put them straight into the washing machine. Your own clothes are still damp so you can wear the robe while we eat dinner and then shower after the dogs are bathed." He seemed to be waiting for Eric to strip so he could hand him the robe. Eric bit his lip as he thought of taking his clothes off in front of Thomas.

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"Do you want me to turn around?" The older man had obviously noticed his hesitation. Hearing the amusement in Thomas' voice, Eric flushed and pulled off the wet clothes, grimacing at the slightly acrid smell of the lake water. He got slightly tangled up in the t-shirt, which had been a little tight, and by the time he'd pulled it over his head Eric discovered Thomas was openly appraising his body. It was Thomas' turn to blush when he realized he'd been caught ogling for the second time that day. "Like what you see?" Eric asked, reveling in his turn to be amused but secretly rather turned on by Thomas' open admiration. Turned on and willing it not to show as he got out of the sweats. "Yeah," Thomas admitted honestly, his voice a little gruff. They stared at each other for a few minutes. Eric licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. Thomas' eyes followed the movement. Neither man seemed willing to make a move. In the end, Eric was just about to take a step forward to bridge the distance between them when his stomach did its customary rumbling. It was proving to be an effective cockblock. Thomas grinned, though. Eric wasn't sure from his expression whether he was relieved or disappointed but the noise broke the tension. 76 

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"Put this on," Thomas held out the robe. Eric looked down at himself; he was half hard, standing almost naked and barefoot on the stone flagstones. He grabbed at the robe, trying to cover himself up before Thomas noticed but by the glazed look he saw in Thomas' dark eyes, he realized he'd been unsuccessful. Thomas turned away as Eric wrapped the robe around his body. "Come and eat your dinner before you pass out." Using oven mitts, he retrieved two plates from the range and placed them on the pine table that had already been laid with knives and forks. "Don't touch the plates because they're really hot." Sitting down where Thomas indicated, Eric looked at the plate full of food. His stomach rumbled again at the delicious smell rising from the plate. "This is amazing…" he began. Thomas gave him a slightly shy grin at the praise. "Don't say that until you tried some. Eat first." Despite Thomas' warning, the food tasted just as delicious as it looked and Eric was hard pressed not to make whimpering noises as the steak melted in his mouth. It wasn't that he didn't eat well normally. Hell, he could afford takeout from the best restaurants in LA and that was how he normally ate. It was just that the chance for a home cooked meal didn't come his way very often and when it 77 

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did, they didn't normally taste as though they'd been cooked by his momma. Thomas watched in obvious amusement as Eric ate his way through his plate, seconds, and then eyed up the remains on Thomas' plate. "Here," Thomas said as he pushed over his plate, "I can't bear to see you go hungry." "Hey, I missed a few meals," Eric protested as he stuffed his mouth with baked potato. "Sure," Thomas agreed. Finally, Eric scraped around his plate to capture the last bit of butter and sat back with a satisfied sigh. "That was… Texas," he admitted with a grin. "My momma and pops come from Texas," Thomas said as he cleared up the table and began to load the dishwasher. "All our meals were like that." "I ought to be doing that." Although, really, Eric wasn't sure he actually wanted to stir from his seat. He made a token effort to get up from his seat but Thomas waved him off and he slid back down with a sigh of relief. "Nah, sit back and enjoy being a guest. You can make me dinner tomorrow. I'm gonna be out most of the day at a meeting with my publisher." "Me? Cook? Are you sure you want to risk it?" Eric asked incredulously.

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"You can't be that bad," Thomas commented as he continued loading up the dishwasher. "You haven't killed yourself yet." Eric laughed. "That's because I never cook. Takeout is a wonderful thing." "You should be twice the size you are if you only eat junk. I can't believe you stay in such great shape." "That's the beauty of a personal trainer. He puts me through hell but the end result means I can eat lots of… well, just lots." "I'll bet," observed Thomas in a wry tone. "I can see I'm going to have to go food shopping soon if you and the dogs are gonna be my guests for much longer." Eric stared at him in surprise. "Is that an invitation?" It hadn't occurred to him that this was anything other than an overnight stop until he could make arrangements to go back to LA. He saw embarrassment spreading across Thomas' face. Thomas coughed as if he was trying to clear his throat. "Well, you can, if you want to. You don't have to rush away." He finished loading up the dishwasher and closed the door. There was a slight delay and then the familiar low whoosh of the water filling the machine sounded in the kitchen.

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"Thanks. I hadn't really thought about it, to be honest. Haven't really got my head around the fire at all." Eric felt rather relieved that he didn't need to make an immediate decision. Thomas poured out a brandy and placed it in front of Eric. "As I said, you don't have to think now. Drink this. We'll go and crash in front of the TV. I'm sure we can find a movie or two you haven't appeared in." "I'll be asleep if I drink that," predicted Eric. "Besides, we've got the dogs to bathe, remember?" Grimacing, Thomas said, "I'd forgotten 'bout that." He looked down at Toby and Millie, who were sleeping peacefully by the range. Although they looked almost dry, both men could smell the distinct aroma of stinky, damp dog fur. "Where are we gonna do this?" Eric asked as he heaved himself to his feet, leaving the brandy untouched on the table. It could wait until later. "Hmm… Backyard with the hose, I guess. I'll collect the towels and shampoo. You persuade the mutts outside." "Leave me to do the hard job," grumbled Eric. But he obediently whistled at the dogs. They opened their eyes blearily to see what their dad was calling them for. "Come on, time for a b-a-t-h." 80 

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"You're actually spelling it out?" Thomas asked in astonishment. Eric rolled his eyes at the other man. "They're dogs, dude. They haven't learned to spell." he explained patiently. "You do realize they can't understand what you say, either." "Ya think?" Thomas turned to see both dogs slinking off quietly in the opposite direction, towards the stairs. "Toby, Millie! Come back here!" Eric ordered sharply. The dogs stopped in their tracks and slunk back to sit in front of him with their ears down and their tails between their legs. "Yeah, they don't understand at all," he said sarcastically. Thomas chuckled "You win," and left the kitchen to find the towels. "I saw that!" he yelled as he went out the door. Eric hastily tucked his tongue back into his mouth and tried to look innocent. "Don't know what he's talking about," he said to the dogs. "Ba— um… dinnertime, guys." "Does your momma know you lie like a devilchild?" Eric ground his teeth as the mocking question echoed from the hallway. It wouldn't be a good thing to throttle the man giving him shelter, would it? "It's not 81 

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lying. It's merely manipulating the truth. It will be dinnertime at some point." "You keep telling yourself that, princess. The dogs and I know different." Half an hour later, and leaving two damp, freshersmelling, and distinctly disgruntled dogs in front of the range to dry out, Eric and Thomas crashed in front of the TV with their brandies and a bag of chips. Stretching his legs out, Eric sighed tiredly as he sipped at his drink. He would have liked to go to bed but it seemed a little rude to desert his host so quickly. Thomas gave him a knowing look. "Tired?" "Yeah," admitted Eric, fighting off another yawn. "God knows why, considering I've only been up since three. You should be more tired than I am since you had less sleep." "I am pretty shattered," agreed Thomas. "I'm out early tomorrow but you don't have to rush up." "Good," Eric grunted. "So, what are we going to watch?" "One of yours?" "Hell, no," Eric snorted "Not unless you want me to be watching from behind a cushion the whole movie." "Like you're gonna be awake beyond the opening credits," Thomas scoffed as he rummaged through his DVD 82 

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collection. He eventually emerged triumphant with a battered copy of a film. "Heh! What about Brucie?" "A classic." Thomas popped it in the DVD player and they settled back to watch Bruce Willis save the world from Alan Rickman for about ten minutes. Before the hero laid eyes on the villain both men were fast asleep, snoring gently in their respective corners of the sofa.

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Chapter 4 A pounding headache disturbed Eric's sleep. He really didn't want to open his eyes. Eric wasn't sure if he was going to be sick or not but he knew he needed to use the bathroom. Reluctantly, he opened one eye to discover he'd spent the night on the sofa; he was lying flat out upon with a blanket covering him. Sitting up gingerly, he closed his eyes and swallowed hard as the change in position caused his head and stomach to go into free-fall. "'Ric, you okay, dude?" From beyond the pain, he felt a hand rest on his shoulder and opened his eyes a fraction to a worried look from his host. Eric's vision now had sparkling lights dancing around the edges. Bugger. Gonna be a bad one. "Bad headache," he gasped out. Even moving his jaw seemed to hurt. The pressure on his shoulder increased slightly, then vanished as Thomas said softly, "Hold on." Eric wasn't going anywhere, full bladder or not. A minute later, Thomas was saying, "Here, take these." Eric opened his eyes a little to see a glass of cold water and a couple of tablets in Thomas' hand. He took 84 

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them and swallowed them down, working hard to suppress his stomach's desire to hurl them straight back up in protest. "Okay?" Thomas asked after a minute. Eric nodded, then wished he hadn't as the crazy dancing lights started in his head. "Let's get you into bed." Eric let Thomas help him up and they walked slowly to the stairs. "Dogs." He knew they'd need a walk by now. Thomas' arm tightened around his waist. "I'll look after them, don't worry." They continued up the stairs, one agonizing nail hammering into his head at a time. By the time they reached the top, Eric had broken out into a cold sweat and with each step he had to fight hard to control the nausea. Thomas guided him into his bedroom and towards the bed. "Need to pee," he gasped out. "Okay." Thomas helped him into the bathroom saying, "I'll be outside if you need me." "I'm not that helpless," Eric protested, and then belied his words by doubling over and heaving violently. "It's not just a normal headache, is it?" Thomas observed when the heaves subsided for a moment. He sat on the floor with Eric, rubbing his back gently.

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Eric was draped miserably around the bowl, waiting for round two. "'S migraine. Normally I take pills but they went in the fire. Just didn't think yesterday." "Shit. You need to get more?" Thomas got up to get Eric a drink of water. He handed him the glass and sat back down again, his large warm hand resting comfortingly on Eric's back. He sipped at the drink, grimacing at the taste of vomit in his mouth. "Need my prescription," Even trying to think in coherent sentences wore him out. God it was nice to have someone to help. "I'll get my doctor out here. She can give you something until we can contact your own doctor." Round two arrived with a vengeance and it was several minutes before Eric could say, "'S okay. You don't need to do that." "Already done I'm afraid. I called her when I realized you were ill. She'll be here in about half an hour." "But…" "But nothing. Come on, you need to get into bed instead of lying on the cold floor. I'll get you a bowl." "Need a piss first." Then Eric realized what had happened. "Oh… uh…" "It doesn't matter, Ric, honestly," Thomas' voice sounded reassuring rather than annoyed, but as Eric sat on 86 

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the floor in the borrowed clothes he'd vomited over and pissed in he wondered if he could feel any more humiliated. He could hear the sound of water running, then Thomas' hands were on his arms. "I know this is probably the last thing you feel like, but have a quick shower to clean up." Eric nodded wearily; he was too tired and sick to argue. He got to his feet and stripped off the soiled clothing, figuring as his dignity was already shredded, nakedness was not an issue. Thomas didn't seem to pay any attention anyway, muttering something about getting fresh towels. The water beating down hurt his head but he managed a quick shower, leaning against the cold tiled wall for support as he washed his body. He emerged to find a large, fluffy towel waiting for him and a pair of boxers; Eric's own, from the night of the fire. In the bedroom he discovered the drapes were closed and the bed turned down. Eric lay down carefully on the cool sheets, noticing with relief that the nausea had eased. The disco lights behind his eyelids were less vibrant as well, and the pain had dulled a little. It would be a while before he'd discover whether he was over the worst or in the lull between the storms.

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"'Ric, the doctor's here." Thomas' soft, deep voice penetrated the light doze he'd fallen into. He struggled to open his eyes again, wincing as the light from a gap in the drapes hit his eyes. Thomas murmured an apology and pulled them tighter together. "Hey, Eric, I'm Dr. Anthony. How are you doing?" He saw a soft, motherly-looking woman smiling at him. "Better now that I've been sick," he said hoarsely, his throat sore from vomiting. The doctor's fingers rested lightly on his pulse. "Do you think you're going to be sick again?" she queried. "Not sure." "Thomas tells me you're on regular medication for these migraines. Can you remember what you're taking?" It was a struggle to concentrate but Eric managed to remember his daily medication and told her what pills he took and how many. "That's fine," she said encouragingly, "And what triggers these attacks?" "Many things, but stress mostly. I could feel one coming on before the fire but the shock and then forgetting I needed the tablets…" She nodded, "That would do it. I'll give you something to ease the nausea and the headache, and then a 88 

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prescription for your migraine medication. Thomas can get that filled this morning." Eric tried to sit up. "But your meeting…?" Instantly Thomas was at his side, easing him back against the pillows. "It's not an issue. I postponed it for a few days." "I'm so sorry…" Eric began. Thomas' hand stroked his head. "Nothing to be sorry for. I wasn't going to leave you like this. Besides, it wasn't important." Eric lay back against the pillows. Even that brief movement had set his head pounding and the churning of his stomach in free-fall again. The doctor looked at him shrewdly. "I think we might need that bowl, Thomas." Not a moment too soon the bowl was put under his nose and he retched weakly. There was very little left to bring up and the action just left him sore and wrung out. He ended up tucked against Thomas' chest as the nausea subsided, wishing someone would put him out of his misery once and for all. His eyes were closed and he was listening to the thump of Thomas' heart when he felt a sharp prick of pain in his arm.

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"I've just given you a shot for the sickness and the pain," Dr. Anthony said as she dabbed the injection site. "This will help you sleep it off. "Thank you," he whispered, just wanting to fall into oblivion. Eric knew he should move out of Thomas' arms but he was so damn tired… he'd just rest for a minute.

A minute turned into several hours judging by the muted light in the room. Eric came back to consciousness slowly and unwillingly, afraid of a repeat performance with the nausea and headache. He opened his eyes with some difficulty as they were crusty, and he was conscious of just how rank he must be despite the earlier shower. A movement out of the corner of his eyes attracted his attention. Toby was slinking up to the bed as if he was worried about being reprimanded. "Hey, boy," he greeted his dog, stroking his ears and paying him attention for the first time in an age. "You're awake. How're you doing?" Eric looked up to see Thomas standing over him, a worried look on his face. "Better." He licked his lips, aware of how dry his mouth was. Thomas leaned across and, taking a drink from the nightstand, helped him moisten his mouth. It even had a straw so he wouldn't have to raise his 90 

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head too much. He managed to take a little water but then he had to lie back; even that small effort made his head pulse in time to his heartbeat. Thomas was watching him closely. "Do you want to be sick again?" "No, just so tired." "The doctor left some meds for when you woke up. Do you feel up to taking them now?" "In a little bit, maybe" Eric couldn't face raising his head again. He felt a cool hand brush over his forehead. "Go back to sleep, 'Ric." Gratefully, Eric obeyed, tumbling back into sleep with a whisper of a kiss on his forehead to ease his way.

When he awoke again, it was light in the room. Eric was completely disorientated, not knowing what the time was or even what day it was, but the most important thing was how much better he felt. The headache had retreated to a dull pinprick behind one eye and the nausea was gone. He looked up to see a note on the nightstand. It only had two words; Take these. Eric swallowed the tablets with a mouthful of water and lay back for a few minutes. He could hear music playing downstairs and decided he was well enough to rejoin the human race. He 91 

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wanted to say hello first and give his dogs some serious loving, then come back upstairs for a shower. The desire to be clean, though, became paramount when he went into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror and was shocked by what he saw. His face was pale and sunken in under the natural tan. Dark circles around his eyes and lank greasy hair completed the picture of disaster. "You've lost your chance now," Eric told his reflection, "No one is going to put out for the man who puked and pissed all over him." The feel of hot water pounding on his sensitive head was almost too much but he forced himself to cope as he washed his hair and body; it would help him feel better after all. He brushed his teeth twice and rinsed out thoroughly, but by the time he'd finished Eric was seriously contemplating going back to bed again. He really needed to see Millie and Toby, though, to make sure his babies were okay. There were some sweats and a t-shirt on the dresser. As Eric dressed he noticed they fit perfectly, despite his height advantage over Thomas. Leaving the bedroom, Eric went to look for his mutts, wondering if they'd even remember who he was. The music seemed to be coming from the summer room; 92 

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Thomas' term for the light and airy room where he'd talked to the police. Eric could hear the sound of a guitar and male vocals. It sounded more blues than country; laid-back and mellow. Thomas obviously had it turned down low so he wouldn't be disturbed. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Millie suddenly bolted out of the room, her claws skittering on the stone tiles as she saw Eric and changed direction. Her barks of excitement attracted Toby who joined her, leaping at Eric as he sat on the stairs and almost pinning him in place. The music stopped mid-song and Thomas came into the hall, a huge smile spreading across his face when he saw Eric. "You look like hell," was his cheery greeting. Eric was about to respond with his usual 'Fuck you' when it occurred to him that it probably wasn't the most appropriate thing to say now. The time had passed for notso-innocent flirting. "Yeah, feel pretty much like I've been dragged into hell and back actually," he admitted as he hugged his dogs, both of them intent on giving him a second shower. "Want something to eat?" suggested Thomas. "Toast?" Eric asked hopefully, not sure he was up to much more. "Can do. Let your daddy up, kids." 93 

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To Eric's amazement, the dogs sat down obediently and waited for him to stand up. Ignoring the niggling worm of jealousy inside him, Eric followed Thomas into the kitchen. "Coffee?" Thomas waved the coffee pot at him but Eric shook his head, and then wished he hadn't as the dull thump started up again. "Best not. I'll stick with water." He sat down at the large table and in short order, toast and a glass of iced water appeared in front of him. Thomas sat down opposite him, munching on his own piece of toast. "It's good to see you up again." "It's good to be vertical again," Eric admitted. He drank the water but couldn't quite finish the toast. Thomas was looking at him with frown lines between his eyes. "Do you get those headaches a lot?" "Yeah. At least once a film. Normally it's when I'm stressed. The medication helps to keep it under control but if I forget to take it I get a whopper like this." "Have you had them all your life?" "Just since I got successful. I never really get any vacation time between films. I'm usually wrapping one as I start on another."

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"It can't be good for you taking all that medication. And why are you overworking?" Eric shrugged, and winced. Thomas' frown got even deeper as he caught Eric's pain. "Dude, you're gonna burn out if you don't get some downtime." He placed his hand over Eric's. It felt warm and comforting and Eric wanted it to stay there forever. "I know. I guess I'm worried about not working, not getting the parts. You don't know what it's like, how cutthroat it is." "Not being a top Hollywood star, you mean?" Thomas withdrew his hand and leaned back in his chair. Eric looked up at the edge in his voice. "I didn't mean…" Thomas waved his hand. "No, you're right, I don't understand what it's like. But I still don't think it's worth stroking out over, 'Ric." "It's just so hard to stop the pattern once you start. Every time I get a headache I think 'when the film ends I'll take a break' and then I find I'm starting another film." He smiled ruefully. "They even book in migraine time now. Other stars get time with their kids, I get time with my migraines. God, I needed this vacation so badly."

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Thomas snorted loudly. "Yeah, 'cuz this place has been so relaxing. Just a little arson to keep you from missing all the explosions." "Not so much burn out as burn up!" The horrified expression on Thomas' face struck him as funny somehow and Eric started laughing, holding his head to stop the pain. Eventually Thomas joined in, although Eric wasn't sure whether it was for the gallows humor or the sight Eric made clutching his head as he laughed. The laughter felt good, even if it did hurt. The sunlight flooded the kitchen and Eric realized he still had no idea what the time was. There was a clock on the microwave. "It's two o'clock!" he yelped. "You slept for over a day but it sounds like you have some serious catching up to do. Gonna tell me you don't wanna go back to sleep?" teased Thomas. Eric glared weakly but he admitted Thomas was right. "I just want to spend some time with the dogs first, so they don't think I've abandoned them." "Why don't you spend a lazy afternoon watching some TV with the mutts? I've got some work to do for a while." "Work?" 96 

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"Writing. I've got a deadline coming up and everyone is getting impatient with me." "Shit, and you've had me to deal with. I'm so sorry—" Thomas took his hand again. "It's no problem, 'Ric. I can catch up." At Eric's disbelieving expression, he added, "You've been asleep most of the time you've been here. 'Sides, we've got unfinished business, remember?" Oh, yeah, Eric remembered. His dick twitched happily, a welcome sign things were returning to normal. "But for now, daytime TV and a snooze with your dogs. They had a long walk this morning, so they'll be happy to sleep with you." Eric let himself be herded in the direction of the sofa. He was given more water, the remote control, a blanket, and two large dogs as company. "Call me if you need anything. I'll just be in the study." "Yes, mom," Eric said cheekily. One of Thomas' eyebrows flew up comically and his eyes raked over Eric, producing a feeling inside that his mom never had, thank God. Eric may have been down, but he could see Thomas was reminding him that he definitely wasn't out.

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Thomas disappeared into the study and Eric settled down with his dogs. They seemed happy and content just to sprawl with him on the sofa. Thomas didn't seem to have any hang-ups about dogs on the furniture, and within minutes they were all asleep, Millie snoring loudly in Eric's ear. By the following day, Eric felt that he could call himself human again. He'd managed phone calls to his agent, his publicist, and his mom, in that order. Thomas had frowned at him for putting his mom last but Eric pointed out as the first one was the scariest he wanted to get it out of the way. His agent, a short, plump female with balls of steel and a stare that could take down any uppity star or director, yelled at him for a few minutes about the dangers of the countryside and why the hell wasn't he in LA where at least the crazies were working in the industry? Eric just held the phone away from his ear until she'd run out of breath. He finally extracted a grudging admission that Thomas seemed to be a sensible man and Eric was allowed to stay— at least until alternative arrangements could be made. A huge concession, as Eric pointed out to Thomas later over a mug of coffee. Sarah's opinion of men started in the gutter and never got any higher than the curb. 98 

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He arranged for a replacement car to be sent and asked her to organize some clothes, ignoring her grumbling that she wasn't his damn stylist. After several moments of assurances that he wouldn't step more than one foot away from the house without Thomas as an escort, Sarah finally agreed to let him hang up. Before he tackled the other calls the phone was taken away from his hand and replaced with a mug of weak tea. At his outraged look, Thomas said, "No coffee yet, and one crazy lady at a time, dude." "I don't think I'll tell Drew or my mom you called them crazy." "Drew's a female?" "Nah, just a nagging old woman sometimes." Drew was a quiet man with an excellent reputation in the industry. He didn't go out of his way to piss off the media and because of it Eric had always enjoyed friendly relations with the media. Even the paparazzi would back off if asked politely. Eric thanked God every day that Sarah had introduced him to Drew when he saw what some of his co-stars had to endure. A few minutes later Eric called Drew, who assured that him no-one in the media had heard about the fire and his location was still safe. They were still trying to sort out 99 

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and locate information on the mystery man at the lake because his description didn't match up to any of the stalkers on their records. Finally he spoke to his mom who, up to this point, hadn't realized he was on vacation. Eric loved his mom, he really did, but he knew how this call was going to proceed. It took another cup of Thomas' tea —with appropriate facial expressions— to work up the nerve. It started well but by the time it had degenerated to 'Eric Andrew Pawlowski' his head was aching again and the nausea was starting to return. He'd repeated "But, Mom—" three times when the phone was lifted out of his hand. "Mrs. Pawlowski? Hello, my name is Thomas. Eric is staying with me for a few days." Eric listened in amazement as Thomas not only managed to calm his mother down, but by the end of the conversation was calling her Sandra and promising her his recipe for the meal he'd made Eric on the first night. Thomas wished Eric's mother farewell and laid the cell on the table. Eric stared across at him. "I don't know whether to hug you or hit you," Eric said.

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The mobile eyebrow rose up once more. "Hit me? Why? I got you out of a long and tedious conversation." "But now she likes you." Eric squirmed on his chair as Thomas looked even more incredulous. "She's always going to be asking after you and wanting to talk to you." Thomas leaned forward and patted his hand. "Never mind, I'm a big boy. I can cope." "Now you're being patronizing." "And you're behaving like a five year old." "Am not!" "Do I really need to dignify that with a response?" Eric caught Thomas' lips twitching and tried to pout but it was enough to set them both laughing. Thomas looked at him with a speculative glance. "How are you feeling now?" "Tired but better than I have for a while. Why?" "Wanna go for a swim in the lake or go back to bed for a nap?" Did Eric want to sleep or freeze his balls off and get to see mainly naked Thomas? Was the man stupid? "I don't have a swimsuit." Oh fuck, was that a challenging look on Thomas' face? "I can provide one if you don't feel brave enough to go skinny dipping." 101 

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Eric leaned back and smirked at him. "Only if you join me." "Well in that case…" Thomas swallowed as if he wasn't quite as confident as he was making out. "Done." Eric swallowed as well, and stood up. Thomas placed the cups in the dishwasher and went to get some towels. Eric hadn't been out since before his migraine so he went in hunt of his sneakers, finding them in the hall closet. He slipped them on, noting the slight residue of pain behind his eyes. Thomas was waiting for him when he went back into the kitchen, towels in one hand and stroking Millie behind the ears with the other. He looked up as Eric came back into the kitchen. "Ready to get cold?" "I've just been sick and you want me to freeze my nuts off?" "If it's too much for you, princess, you can always ask me to warm them up." Thomas leered. "Is that an offer?" "It's a promise." Eric told himself it was the migraine that made his stomach flip-flop as they left the kitchen, and not the promise of something that flared in Thomas' eyes.

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Thomas lied. Eric told him so when he got his breath back. The lake wasn't cold. It was fucking freezing. Even the dogs had given it up as a bad idea and were meandering along the shoreline. Thomas would have a hard job finding Eric's balls because he swore they were trying to climb back up into his body. Thomas offered to look for him. Eric told him it would be a cold day in Hell before Thomas would get anywhere near him or his junk. "You don't mean that." Thomas stood up in the water and started advancing towards him. The water level was just lapping along his hipbones. He was all muscles and taut skin, broad shoulders and narrow hips. "I mean it," but it sounded weak, even to Eric's own ears. His attention was firmly fixed elsewhere. Elsewhere was beautiful. "You don't want me to touch you, 'Ric?" That low, husky drawl was hardwired to his dick, he was sure of it. This was unfair. How could Eric be expected to concentrate when Thomas employed such sneaky weaponry? Eric cleared his throat. "Touching is… good."

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"I like touching, as well." Thomas assured him as he stepped up close to Eric. "I like touching hot men and you are definitely the hottest man I have ever seen. May I?" The fact he was asking permission as they stood naked together was oddly touching, even if Eric was trying to push away the image of Thomas touching hot men, lots of them. Eric nodded and bit his lip as Thomas' hand wrapped around his dick, their cold skin warming swiftly as Eric grew thick and full under his touch. Thomas' other hand slid around his hip until he was cupping Eric's ass, pulling him in closer. Then they were standing flush together, Thomas' hand trapped between them, the water lapping about their thighs. Eric wasn't paying any attention to the cold any more. Thomas tilted his head; his eyes dark and blown as Eric bent down eagerly to kiss him. The first kiss left him breathless and wanting more. The second kiss… he hadn't finished that yet. Thomas' tongue was in his mouth and his hand slid up Eric's back to tangle in his hair and pull him down closer. Warm, wet heat, and he wanted it everywhere. "You're so fucking big," Thomas said against his lips. Eric smiled, the grin captured by Thomas as he kissed him again. "Is that a problem?" 104 

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"Hell, no!" Thomas ground his hips against Eric, their cocks riding against Thomas' hand. "Then shut up and kiss me." It was meant to be an order but came out as more of a breathless moan as Thomas' thumb slid over the head of his cock. He obeyed as they stood in the lake, lips pressed hard against each other, tongues exploring, learning the shape and taste of Thomas' mouth until he was dizzy from lack of oxygen. "Very nice!" An amused voice broke into his lustinduced trance. They reluctantly broke away to see Di grinning at them from the shoreline. Eric was thankful Thomas didn't pull away from him. "What the hell are you doing here?" Thomas was panting as he tried to drag oxygen into his lungs. He rested his face against Eric's shoulder as he recovered. "I just came to deliver more clothes for Eric. If I'd known there was going to be a show I'd have arrived sooner." "You can leave them in the kitchen and get the hell out of here." Smirking at them, she said, "I'm quite happy to watch." "Unlike you I don't feel the need to make out in public!" Thomas informed her loftily. Di coughed 105 

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derisively. Eric felt Thomas' skin get hot against his shoulder. "I was sixteen!" "And making out was the loosest possible term for it." "We are naked in a lake and my dick is trying to drill holes in your hand— or it was. I think she has the upper hand, Tom." Eric's dick had wilted a little at being discovered but was still acutely aware of the hand wrapped around it and the hard length so close by. Eric shivered as the cold permeated the heat of lust and embarrassment. Thomas raised his head and looked at him. "Diane, fuck off now. We need to get out of the lake before our dicks get frostbite. I'll call you later." "I could always give you your towels." "Go!" They both growled at her, the cold water getting too much for them. She caught the change in mood and moved off with nothing more than another smirk and "Later." They stood wrapped in each other's arms until they heard her car move away. Then Eric sighed a little and gave Thomas a brief kiss on the lips. "Shall we get out of here?" Thomas nodded. "The moment's been lost, hasn't it?"

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Again, thought Eric. He was starting to think it would never happen. "'Ric?" Thomas' hand cupped his jaw, his thumb stroking him gently. "It's only postponed until we're warm and dry. I'm not letting you get away from me this time." The small smile Eric gave him seemed to satisfy Thomas and they waded out of the water, Eric following to make sure he could watch the muscles rippling down Thomas' back. For a man who didn't work out, he was all lean muscle and he made Eric's mouth water. "Like what you see?" Thomas seemed well aware of the hot gaze on his back as he bent down to pick up the towels. "The view is stunning." Eric took the towel with murmured thanks and dried himself slowly, not taking his eyes off Thomas. The heat in Thomas' eyes was warming him even without the towel. "Fuck," said Thomas, his voice unsteady. Suddenly Eric realized he was the one in control now. Thomas wanted him to take the next step. Grabbing Thomas' towel, he pulled him closer. "Fuck, now," he agreed as he ran his mouth down Thomas' neck, licking and biting at the pulse point, feeling it throb beneath the warm skin.

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"Lube and condoms are inside." Thomas was clinging on to Eric's shoulders to steady himself. It seemed natural to lift him up, Thomas' legs wrapping around his waist. Eric exulted at the startled squawk and the fact he was strong enough to pick the other man up. "Better go inside then." He nuzzled and worried at Thomas' neck, his jaw, and finally capturing his lips in a messy, sloppy kiss. "Fuck!" Thomas' power of speech seemed to diminish with each bite and kiss. Eric smirked against his neck. Thomas hissed a "Bastard!" in his ear but otherwise he seemed preoccupied with giving Eric a taste of his own medicine. The journey back to the house was punctuated by hisses and moans from both men as their cocks slid together, pre-come aiding the friction. The dogs followed but for once Eric wasn't concentrating on his pets. He stumbled into the house, pushing Thomas down on the large table and virtually crawling on top of him. "Lube?" Thomas flung out an arm and awkwardly pulled at the drawer under the table. Eric leaned over and took out the lube and condoms, raising an eyebrow at Thomas. He flushed under Eric's smirk. "I was hoping, okay? Are you going to fuck me or am I going to have to do it 108 

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myself?" Thomas' hand went to his cock, stripping it roughly. Eric knocked it away. "Mine!" "Fucking take it then!" Not so much giving up the control then as moving things along, Thomas was going to be a toppy bastard, Eric realized, even on the bottom. He'd just have to shut him up. Sliding down and swallowing his dick? Oh yeah, that worked. That worked real good. Thomas was knocked into silence as his hips bucked up. Thomas' "Please," was but a whisper of sound as his fingers tangled through Eric's hair. Eric pulled off and looked up. "Please, what?" Thomas' eyes were open and glazed, a flush spreading down his chest. "Fuck me." God, yes. Maybe. Once he'd had another taste, got the feel of his man in his mouth. "Your man?" Okay, he hadn't meant to say that out loud. "I like that idea," Thomas bit his kiss-swollen lips. Eric moved up and kissed Thomas hard, sharing the taste of him. "So do I," he said as he settled between Thomas' legs, pushing them wider apart. He looked around for the lube, finding it tucked beneath one of Thomas' hips.

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Squeezing some of the lube into his palm, Eric spread it over his fingers, Thomas watching the whole time. Eric reached over and took Thomas' hand, tangling their fingers and covering them both in slick. "Why…?" Thomas frowned slightly. Eric didn't answer, just pushed their hands down behind Thomas' balls. Thomas' eyes widened as he realized what Eric wanted. Slowly they pressed in, gently working their fingers until Thomas was pressing down on them, harsh whimpers escaping him. "Please, 'Ric, fuck me." Only too eager to oblige, Eric withdrew their fingers, capturing Thomas' gasp of loss in his mouth. Keeping their fingers entwined, Eric pressed in, letting Thomas get used to the feel of him; the tight, slick heat around his fingers had given only a hint of what was to come. Thomas was silent again; the only noise his breaths in Eric's ear. Slowly Eric began to move, short, shallow thrusts Thomas couldn't control. It wasn't enough. Thomas tried to move, to cant his hips, seeking more but Eric pressed him down. "Please, you bastard, please—" Thomas begged. "Please what?" "More, I need more."

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"Like this?" Eric pulled back until he was almost out. Thomas almost sobbed at the loss. "Or like this?" He thrust back in, pulling Thomas underneath him and tilting him so that he grazed his sweet spot. Thomas' eyes rolled back. Over and over Eric reduced the man beneath him to mindless need, writhing on his cock. Eric's hips snapped forward and Thomas gave a shout as he came, his ass clamping down around Eric's cock as he covered his belly and chest in white streams. The feel of Thomas riding out his orgasm pushed Eric over the edge. He gasped out Thomas' name as he pushed in deep, shaking as he came, feeling Thomas soothe and stroke him through his own climax. Eric collapsed on top of him, his chest heaving as he tried to get his breathing under control. Thomas kissed the top of his head, his fingers stroking his face as they lay there for a while. "Gotta move, big man. This table's fucking uncomfortable," he said eventually. "'M okay," Eric mumbled sleepily. "That's because you're on me, you great lug. Off!" Eric found himself tumbling onto the floor as Thomas bucked up hard. "Hey!"

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The dogs leaped up and jumped all over him, tails wagging excitedly, delighted to find their human on the floor with them. "You all right there, 'Ric?" Thomas grinned down at him, looking amused and fucked out; it was a good look on him and Eric felt just a little smug. Grinning inanely, he lay back on the cold flagstones, too tired to move as Toby and Millie breathed in his face and nudged at his hands. **** Thomas made Eric rest on the sofa for a couple of hours in the afternoon while he made some calls. And despite his protestations, Eric was asleep within minutes of switching on the TV. Sometime later Eric woke up on the sofa again, feeling overly warm and aware of a nagging ache in his lower back. He'd slept really well and the migraine bothering him for the past couple of days had disappeared, leaving him clear-headed and rested. This time, however, he wasn't on his own. Sometime during the afternoon he'd ended up stretched out along the sofa, wrapped around Thomas who had joined

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him, unawares. The other man was spooned up against him, still fast asleep, huffing slightly as he breathed. Trying not to disturb the man in his arms, Eric shifted slightly so he could look at him as he slept. Thomas murmured in protest but didn't wake up, just buried his head deeper into the crook of Eric's arm and settled again. He was stunning, Eric realized, even close-up with every imperfection on display. From the first moment Eric laid eyes on him, he'd never really got past staring into Thomas' eyes. Now, he took his time to explore his bone structure, the long lashes splayed against his cheeks and the crazy pattern of freckles across his face. "Like what you see?" Thomas murmured his own words back at him. The lashes had lifted just a little, the sparkling blue muted in the half-light. Almost the same answer. "Yeah, very much," admitted Eric. He didn't say anything else, just made a sound, captured by Eric's mouth, then wriggled. Eric went to pull back, to let him go but Thomas went with him, capturing his head so that he could pull Eric back down for another kiss. This time it wasn't so chaste. Thomas' lips parted under his and they explored each other's mouths eagerly. Eric was reeling under the feel of the warm, solid body reacting in his arms. He could feel Thomas hardening 113 

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against his hipbone as he pressed closer into Eric's body, setting up a slow grind that threatened to send Eric over the edge. It was too soon. Eric wanted more than a few kisses and dry humping. Taking hold of Thomas' hips, Eric maneuvered his lover so that Eric lay in between his legs. Both men gasped at the feel of their erections sliding together, even with the layers of fabric between them. "Guess we should have stripped first," Thomas commented, slightly breathless. Eric raised himself on one arm and tugged impatiently at their sweats. A bit of squirming from Thomas and then they were naked, at least the relevant parts were. Eric watched as Thomas' eyes rolled back as Eric's cock slid against his balls. "Fuck." "God, yeah," Eric drawled, bending back down for a long, drawn-out kiss. But they weren't going to last long enough to get to the main event. They weren't going to last at all, judging by the effect the soft noises Thomas was making were having on Eric's dick, together with the delicious friction of coarse hair and blood-hot skin. How could anyone stop looking at this man for even a second? wondered Eric as he stared down at Thomas. 114 

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Flush spreading over his face and chest, sweat breaking out and tricking down his neck, and didn't Eric just have to lick that up to taste the salt beneath his tongue. Eric wanted to growl and mark the skin, biting each freckle and marking Thomas as his. He worried at the pulse point in Thomas' neck. "More, harder," Thomas begged, his expression strained. Jesus. That was it. Eric was biting down on the spot, making Thomas cry out and push up against him. Thomas' hands moved restlessly over Eric, pushing up under the borrowed t-shirt to scrape against his nipples, teasing the hard nubs until Eric thought he was going to go mad. He slid a hand between their bodies to wrap around their cocks, gratified by Thomas' sharp hiss as he jacked them together for the first time. Leaning over Thomas, Eric propped himself up on one elbow, watching his lover's reactions as he brought them closer to orgasm, until he was too close himself; his balls tightened as he hardened just that impossible bit more, and he shot, warm spurts between his fingers running onto Thomas' belly. Thomas followed, unable to suppress a loud cry as his come mixed with Eric's to create a crazy, sticky trail on his stomach.

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Chest heaving as he recovered his breath, Eric's arms trembled as he tried not to squash the man beneath him. Thomas stared up at him, suddenly tugging Eric down to lick at the sweat on his temple. Both men laughed as there was a distinct squelch between them. Eric tried to pull back but Thomas wouldn't let him go. Instead he mouthed Eric's neck, following a trail from his ear around to the base of his neck. "We're going to have to move soon," Eric pointed out. "Why? Got somewhere to be?" Thomas sounded fucked-out. "No, but if we don't move we're gonna be stuck together." Thomas chuckled lazily, his lips vibrating against Eric's sensitive skin and sending an interested signal to his cock. "Gotta problem with that?" "No, but if I'm going to be stuck to you I'd rather you were in me at the time." Eric felt Thomas' whole body twitch under his. "Do you, I mean, do you want…?" Thomas seemed to have been rendered speechless and Eric tucked that piece of information away for next time. There was most definitely going to be a next time. Unlike his last few instantly forgettable encounters he 116 

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hadn't had nearly enough of Thomas yet. He stared down into Thomas' eyes, almost drowning in the deep sea-blue depths. "I most definitely want," he assured him. Thomas licked his lips, then said hesitantly, "I want, too." Growling a little, Eric mashed his lips against Thomas'. He wanted to absorb himself in this man until he knew every part of him. It was exciting and scary at the same time. It had been a long time since he had felt this way about someone. Thomas growled back, and from the feel of him against his belly he most certainly had the same interest. Eric sat up, ignoring the disappointed moan and feeling his skin tug as he unpeeled from Thomas. "Come on," he urged, tugging Thomas to his feet. "Where are we going?" "Your shower for round two." Thomas' eyes darkened and he nodded. Despite the crusty mess on his belly, his hair sticking up every which way, and his sweats down around his thighs exposing his half-hard cock, he looked completely fuckable. Eric wasn't going a minute more without touching him. Somehow they got up the stairs without tripping over themselves or their pants. Thomas yanked on Eric's 117 

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hand to pull him into his bedroom and slammed the door shut. The next thing Eric felt was hot, moist suction around his half-hard cock as Thomas sank to his knees, taking him in his mouth. "Fuck!" His head thunked back painfully against the doorframe and his cock went from vaguely interested to rocket-launcher in seconds as Thomas sucked him in. Eric's nails scrambled to find some sort of purchase against the wall as Thomas seemed intent on destroying any ability he had to stay upright by himself. "Thomas, please," he whined as he felt Thomas' throat close around the head of his cock. Thomas pulled off and stared up at him. Eric stared back, eyes fixated on Thomas' puffy lips. He was torn between just shoving his cock back between those swollen, red lips and actually getting as far as the shower. "Fuck my mouth," Thomas rasped, his voice raw. Tugging on his arm, Eric pulled Thomas up to rest flush against his body, trapping their cocks between them. "Next time," he promised. "I…" Eric nibbled on Thomas' ear, "want you…" his mouth sought downwards, licking and tasting salt and sweat, "… to bend me over and fuck me so hard the neighbors can hear me." He tugged on Thomas' nipple for emphasis, feeling the older man's breath stutter as he processed what Eric had just said. 118 

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"I don't have any close neighbors," Thomas said, arching up into Eric's assault on his neck. "The nearest… ah fuck, do that again!" Eric had sunk his teeth into the sensitive skin just below Thomas' ear. "Neighbor… five miles… away." "I know," agreed Eric. "You'd better fuck me really hard then if they're going to hear." He felt Thomas swallow hard. "I can do that." "So hard I'm gonna be sitting on cushions for the next week?" "So hard, boy, that you're gonna be feeling my dick inside you every time you move for the next month!" promised Thomas. Eric felt his ass twitch in response to the lowpitched, husky voice. The chuckle against his ear left him in no doubt Thomas had felt his involuntary response. He was dragged into Thomas' bathroom and pushed up against the tiled wall, the breath almost knocked out him. Damn, every time he got control Thomas snatched it back with a sneaky, underhand maneuver. Thomas was kissing him so hard and doing things with his hands, soft things like stroking his side and scratching lightly across his skin. Eric couldn't catch up with whether he was being devoured or tenderly made love to. 119 

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He pulled back so that Thomas had to break the kiss. "Let's get in the shower," he urged desperately. Thomas seemed reluctant to release him, if only for a second, but he turned to get the water started. Soon the room was filling with clouds of steam. Eric jerked down his sweats, enjoying the flare in Thomas' eyes as he got naked. Thomas copied him and they got in the shower together, turning to be in each other's arms again. They exchanged lazy kisses under the hot water, the urgency muted for a few minutes as they explored each other's mouths, their hands running slowly over each other's backs, bodies gently drawing closer. Desire couldn't be damped down for long, though, and soon small sounds were escaping from both of them as their hips ground together. Thomas gave a low moan into Eric's mouth and stepped back, reaching for a small bottle next to the shampoo. Eric raised an eyebrow. "Lube and condoms in here?" "I was a boy scout." Thomas turned Eric to face the tiles. "I'm always prepared, 'Ric, always." "That's, uh… good to know. I'll remember… shit… that next… time we go camping."

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Eric was finding it increasingly difficult to speak as Thomas trailed fingers down his back and into the crease of his ass. Any thoughts of Thomas in Boy Scout uniform (hell, yes!) were put on hold as Thomas slid a finger into him. Eric laid his face against the tiles and grabbed onto what little control he had left as Thomas gently stretched him, making sure the tips of his fingers brushed over his prostate as often as possible. "Bastard," he hissed as Thomas did it again. "Yup," Thomas agreed, and sucked a bite in the crook of Eric's neck for good measure. Eric looked over his shoulder. The lust-filled expression in Thomas' eyes made him shiver but he couldn't resist taunting him. "You gonna fuck me or just play with me?" Thomas gritted his teeth. "Hold on," he warned him, withdrawing his fingers and lining up his cock. Swallowing hard, Eric widened his stance to make sure he was balanced and then Thomas was pushing in, one long thrust, and fucking Eric to within an inch of his life. He may not have alerted the neighbors but Eric screamed as promised as Thomas teased and tormented his prostate. He was pounded so well he came harder than he'd

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ever done before, his cock completely untouched, resting his head against his arms as he felt Thomas throb in his ass. Thomas collapsed —exhausted and panting— against Eric's back, neither of them having the energy to move as the hot water cooled against their heated skin.

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Chapter 5 Eric had been at Silver Lake a week before he felt well enough to resume his early morning runs. His job required him to spend a lot of time running around half naked, so keeping fit and looking good was kind of a prerequisite of the job. One of things he enjoyed most of all was the early morning runs with his dogs, and ever since he'd arrived at the lake he'd been itching to go for a run around the perimeter. Leaving Thomas in bed with a cup of coffee and a grunted "Thanks," he went down the stairs, calling to the dogs. Toby and Millie bounded up to him, wagging their tails furiously when they saw Eric pulling on his sneakers. They were more of a hindrance than a help as they stepped over him but finally he was ready, and after a few stretching exercises they all set off down the path to the lake, excited to be outside. Early mornings were starting to cool down as fall approached and Eric's breath gusted out in a cloud as he set off around the lake. It was beautiful, and Eric took time to appreciate the mist rising off the lake and the varied calls of the birds breaking the silence. He could understand why Thomas chose to remain here to write his books. It was so calm and peaceful. He 123 

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snorted to himself as he realized he hadn't yet asked Thomas what type of books he actually wrote. For all he knew they could be bodice-rippers. He was looking forward to that conversation. It occurred to him how little he actually knew about Thomas. It hadn't progressed much beyond the mundanities of their day to day life. Eric's feet pounded the well-worn paths. He could feel the slight strain in his muscles as the lack of training over the past week made its presence known. The dogs ranged on ahead, already familiar with these paths thanks to their walks with Thomas. He mused on how comfortably they had all settled into Thomas' home and life. The dogs loved the countryside, no doubt about it. They were always more relaxed at his parents' house than in LA, but here, it was like they were at home, and Eric felt the same way. He was anxious not to intrude on Thomas' work and time but in all honesty he felt no inclination to find somewhere else to stay for the remainder of his vacation, and Thomas didn't seem in any hurry to kick them to the curb. He could see a path approaching that looked vaguely familiar but it wasn't the path back to the Big House. Eric realized with a shock that he was at the path to the cottage, and he almost tripped as his feet seemed to stop of their own volition. Thomas had made him promise not to visit the cottage after the fire and since then it hadn't really 124 

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crossed his mind. But now he was here Eric needed to see the remains of the building, if only to remind himself how lucky he was to still be alive. There was nothing left of the interior of the actual building; just the external shell remained, smoke-blackened and charred. A week after the fire and still the acrid smell reached the back of his throat as he stood and looked at the building. He couldn't believe he'd managed to get out of there alive and he thanked whatever God was up there, and any others listening, for his life and that of his dogs. Eric shivered in the cool morning air, his tired muscles protesting slightly at the sudden stop after the run. Unprepared for a pair of warm arms to suddenly encircle his waist, he flinched slightly. He hadn't heard Thomas' approach. "I thought I might find you here," Thomas' arms tightened around him. "I'm all sweaty," Eric pointed out, although he made no effort to step out of the comforting warmth. Thomas was wearing a hoodie and the softness and warmth of him was just what he needed right now after the shock of seeing the cottage. "And that's meant to make me run screaming? I'm a big man. I can deal with a few drops of sweat." He didn't let

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go of Eric, and with a sigh the younger man snuggled back against him, not yet ready to move away. "I still have nightmares of that moment. Waking up and smelling the smoke, hearing the flames crackling." Eric admitted. He'd not told Thomas of his dreams, not wanting to bother him with just how many times he woke up in a cold sweat as the flames chased him. He felt a shudder and then a kiss was pressed into the nape of his neck. "You should have told me." Thomas chided, and then held on a little tighter. They said nothing more for a few minutes before Thomas squeezed him once more and let his arms drop. "Come on, I have breakfast waiting." Eric shivered again at the loss of warmth. Thomas slid an arm around his back and led him away, back down the path to the lake, calling for the dogs as he did so. Eric cast one look over his shoulder as he went but Thomas tugged at him. "Don't look back, 'Ric. You're here now, with me. You're safe. I won't let anything happen to you." His voice was low and soothing and, as Eric's hand slipped into Thomas', it gave him a feeling of warmth and security that lasted as far as Thomas' back door, where a visitor waited for them.

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Mark, the young cop, was sitting on the back doorstep, waiting for their return. The two men walked towards him. Thomas probably wasn't even aware of it but his hand and arm tensed up when he saw the policeman. Eric squeezed his hand and waited to see if Thomas would pull away. He didn't and they remained as they were when they reached the door. "Morning, Tom. Morning, Eric." Mark was smiling but his eyes were fixed on their joined hands. "Mark," Thomas nodded and didn't let go of Eric's hand immediately. "What can we do for you? Mark rose to his feet to allow Thomas to pass into the kitchen. "We've got a lead on a male staying at the motel in Brownsville. He matches your description and we're going over to interview him today." Eric and the dogs waited for the policeman to go in before they followed. Thomas had already filled their bowls for breakfast and both dogs rushed eagerly over to their meal. Mark's next words were accompanied by the sounds of crunching and bowls scraping across the floor. Mark nodded at Thomas' offer of coffee. "I just wanted to ask Eric if he'd ever heard the name, Simon Wayward?" He phrased it as a question as he turned to look at the actor.

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Eric thought for a moment and then shook his head. "No, you could ask my agent though." "Already did. She wondered if it was an ex-lover or something." "No. Definitely not." At Eric's vehemence, Mark raised an eyebrow. "I have to be discreet. My… er… lovers are few and far between and I know them all personally." Mark nodded. "Well, it might be an alias. We'll check it out. Thomas, what's the matter?" Eric turned to see the ashen face of his host; it was so pale his freckles stood out in sharp relief. "Tom, are you all right?" He stepped forward to hold him in case he fell but Thomas waved him off. "I'm fine," he said. "'Ric, why don't you grab a shower before breakfast?" Thomas handed him a large mug of coffee. Eric was taken aback, knowing he'd been dismissed but not sure of the reason. He decided not to push it in front of Mark but instead do as he was asked… for now. He left the kitchen and kicked off his sneakers in the hall. As he went past the kitchen door he could hear Thomas saying, "It's them, it's the same name." "Are you sure?" Mark asked, equally sotto voce. "It's hardly coincidence, right?"

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Eric had paused, guiltily eavesdropping, but he heard footsteps so and carried on up the stairs, out of hearing range. Eric frowned. He wasn't sure what was going on here but it was rapidly becoming clear the cause of the fire had nothing to do with him. It was a relief, that his vacation hadn't been compromised by a stalker, on the other hand he wasn't convinced of the wisdom in getting involved. His agent would have his hide if he got involved in any trouble. **** When he got back downstairs Mark had gone. Thomas was pouring out juice and fresh coffee. He looked over his shoulder as Eric entered and motioned him to the table. "Just in time," he said, offering him the juice. Eric said nothing but a "Thank you," and for a few minutes they ate in silence, although he was aware of the increasingly puzzled looks Thomas cast his way every few minutes. They had finished breakfast and were downing the last of the coffee when Thomas broke the silence. "Is something wrong?" His tone was a mixture of hesitance and defensiveness. 129 

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Eric looked at him steadily. "You tell me." "What do you mean? Nothing's wrong. At least not on my part." But there was a deep flush coloring his neck and cheeks and he dropped his eyes to stare at the table. "I don't know what the problem is, Thomas, but I do know whatever is going on has nothing to do with me. You knew the name Mark mentioned. Whatever it is, it's to do with you, not me." Eric watched as a range of emotions crossed Thomas' face: denial, anger, fear. What was he so scared about? Eventually Thomas sighed and dropped his head in his hands. Eric leaned forward and placed a large hand on Thomas' head, stroking his hair gently. "I can't help unless you tell me what's going on, Thomas." Thomas raised his head. "You can't help at all." His face was blank, expressionless, and somehow that hurt more than the words. Eric had expected, well, something… gratitude perhaps? Not this cold impersonal demeanor. Stung, Eric pulled his hand away. "Maybe I can't. Should I leave and let you and Mark deal with it?" There was no answer. Which was its own answer, he guessed. Eric pushed his chair back and stood up. "We'll be out of your hair as soon as I can arrange for the car. Probably this afternoon." 130 

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Thomas stood up as well. "If that's what you want," he said as he started to clear the table. What he wanted? What Eric wanted was to find out what the hell happened since they left the ruined cottage because, honestly, he didn't have a clue. What he wanted was to pull Thomas into his arms and not let him go until he'd told him everything. But Thomas' back was rigid and he didn't know what to do or say beyond, "I've got some phone calls to make." He left the kitchen, blinking rapidly against the sudden prickling in his eyes, and went upstairs, sinking down onto his own bed and staring at his cell. There was nothing he could do beyond phoning his agent and asking for a rental to be delivered today so he could get back to LA. **** It was nearly midday before Eric finished making his calls. It wouldn't have taken so long except he kept staring at the door, willing Thomas to be on the other side, and then losing track of the conversation. He'd decided to finish his vacation down in San Antonio for a couple of weeks, which necessitated a painful conversation with his mother who couldn't work out why 131 

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Eric was running away from 'that lovely boy'. In the end Eric figured it was more the hurt in his voice that convinced his mom to stop asking questions. Sarah, his agent, had listened to his request for a rental and agreed one would be with him by two o'clock. She'd thankfully asked no questions beyond the minimum but as they were saying goodbye she said, "Want me to hang him up by his balls?" Eric made a noise, one somewhere between a sob and a snort. "Yes, please." "Consider it done. Hang in there, Eric. I'll talk to you tomorrow." "Thanks," he whispered as he hung up. He didn't have to say anything more. Sarah protected her clients fiercely and Eric was one of her favorites. Thomas should count himself thankful he didn't live and work in LA. Men had been exiled for lesser offences. He had nothing to pack. The clothes Thomas had provided were set on the bed in a neat pile. All that was left was to wait for the car and pick up the dogs. Eric couldn't face being stuck in his room for another couple of hours so he went downstairs to the kitchen. It was empty apart from Toby and Millie, who were sleeping off their morning run by the range. They were gonna hate him for the long drive to Texas; they'd been 132 

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happy here, too. Eric blinked hard against the threatened prickle of tears. There was still a pot of coffee which felt warm to the touch. Eric poured himself a cup and sat back down at the table. Sipping at the lukewarm drink, he pondered on how they'd gone from loving to leaving in one conversation. Part of him was astonished at the depth of his hurt. After all, he'd only known Thomas for a week. It was hardly what you'd call a long-term relationship, but the other half of him acknowledged that Thomas had rapidly become more than just a holiday flirtation. He pushed away the thought that Thomas was 'the one'. He snorted. That was obviously never going to be. "Is there any left?" Eric looked up to see Thomas sitting opposite him. Damn, but the man looked as wrecked as he did. He gestured to the pot. "Help yourself." Thomas grimaced as he swallowed the coffee, by now barely more than tepid. "I'll make a fresh pot." "Don't bother on my account. I'll be gone in…" Eric checked the clock, "an hour." "So soon?" Thomas looked stricken. "Don't feel you have to go. Please, Eric." His voice was strained but Eric was unforgiving.

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"I thought that's what you wanted." He watched Thomas flinch against the accusation. "I never said I wanted you to go." "You didn't ask me to stay either!" Eric retorted. Thomas banged down fresh mugs. "You got up and told me you were going. What was I expected to say?" Eric snorted. "How about 'don't go'?" He watched as Thomas opened his mouth to retort but then the fight seemed to drain out of him and he collapsed back into the chair. "I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. I don't want you to leave like this." He was staring at Eric, his eyes wide and pleading. Eric was once again struck by how beautiful Thomas was and just how much it would hurt to walk out of that door. "Tell me who Simon Wayward is." Thomas shook his head. "No, I don't want you to get involved." Again, Eric snorted. "It's a little late for that. I'm already involved. He tried to kill me, remember?" "We don't know that." Thomas argued as he poured out fresh coffee for both of them. "It could still be a coincidence." Eric accepted the coffee and took a sip, appreciating the warmth after the last cup and using the action as a delaying tactic while he collected his thoughts. He wasn't 134 

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naturally argumentative but neither was he going to ignore some shit just because Thomas seemed to have a closet full of issues. The problem was trying to decide how to deal with them. He'd have to tread cautiously if he was to avoid alienating Thomas altogether. Thomas was drinking his coffee and avoiding Eric's eyes. The truth was, Eric realized, Thomas was freaking about something and pushing him away while trying to cling on at the same time. He wondered when Thomas last had someone to lean on. Not for a while, it seemed. "Thing is," Eric mused out loud, "As I see it, I'm in a far more vulnerable position than you are." Thomas raised his head, a question in his eyes. Eric didn't give him a chance to interrupt as he continued, "This week you've cleared up my piss, my vomit and, astonishingly, still wanted mind-blowing sex with a closeted gay actor." Thomas' lips twitched but he didn't say anything. Eric leaned over the table and encircled Thomas' hands that were holding the coffee cup with his own. "You could destroy my career with one phone call." "I'd never do that," Thomas denied. "And I won't judge you for something that happened in the past," Eric asserted quietly. "But neither am I going to stay here in possible danger when I don't know all the facts." 135 

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Thomas tried to pull his hands away but Eric just held on and waited while he processed everything Eric had just said. Thomas' eyes were amazingly expressive when he was thinking; every emotion flickered in those blue depths. "Simon Wayward?" Eric asked again. "He was the brother of Laura; an eighteen year old killed by a drunk driver eleven years ago." "Was it you driving?" God, Eric wasn't sure he could remain objective about the death of a teenager; he had a little sister, after all. Thomas gave him a look which said he knew exactly what Eric was thinking. "No, not me. I wasn't the driver." "I don't get it. Why is Wayward targeting you?" "I was in the car. The father of a friend of mine was driving." "But—" Thomas pushed back his chair impatiently, and for one heart-stopping moment Eric thought Thomas was going to walk out, but instead he grabbed the coffee pot. "Shit. Look, I'll tell you what happened. Just give me a minute." Eric excused himself to use the bathroom. When he got back to the kitchen, a fresh pot of coffee and two whiskeys sat on the table. Thomas was sitting back in his 136 

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chair. He didn't seem to notice Eric immediately, and Eric watched him gently swirl the golden liquid in one of the glasses. His eyes were unfocused, lost in painful memories. Eric just wanted to take Thomas into his arms and make love to him until the pain bled away. Taking a deep breath, Eric sat back down and waited. Thomas gave him a tired smile. "You could just leave and forget all about this." "If I walk out now, will you forget me?" "No." "Well, then." That settled, Eric took a chug of his whiskey. It burned a pleasurable path down to his stomach and he had the sinking feeling he would need more than one to get through the day. "Twelve years ago my dad's job got transferred to the UK. Up to then if my dad had to go abroad Mom would stay here with us, but this time she wanted to go with him. My sister was thirteen so she was, naturally, going to go with them. My brother had already gone to college. I was sixteen, I wanted to finish high school and go to college, not to London, and it was agreed I'd stay with a friend and his parents until high school finished. "Only, just before they left I got into some trouble, made myself unpopular with the locals and M… my friend's parents, and so Mom made me go with them." 137 

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M…? Mark? Eric didn't interrupt but his mind was racing. There was definite history between the two men. He dragged his mind back to what Thomas was saying. "We stayed in London until we could buy a house. I really enjoyed it. I was young, there was a good nightlife, and it was easy to get into pubs and clubs as long as you looked eighteen. I made friends quickly." He looked up at Eric, a genuine smile on his face as he remembered happier times. "I was able to go to gay clubs and pubs for the first time in my life without worrying about what my neighbors were saying. I went to school but didn't make much of an effort. I'd met a boy, Kes, and we started a band. He was the frontman; he was such a fucking showoff." Eric wasn't the jealous type, he really wasn't. "Were you and Kes lovers?" Thomas shook his head. "He was an ass and tits man. He liked the 'birds' as he called them. But it didn't bother him that I was gay. We just carved up the audience between us. We were very, very busy." A soft smile played across his lips as he remembered the past. "I'll bet!" Eric really needed to move on. "So what happened with Laura?" He nodded as Thomas offered him another shot of whiskey. So maybe Thomas had a whole sexual history he didn't know about. Well, of course he did; 138 

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Thomas was twenty-eight, four years older than him. It wasn't like Eric didn't have his own past. Thomas swallowed his whiskey in one gulp, not even blinking as it went down. "The band was playing in some small crappy clubs where the fact that I was underage didn't cause a problem as long as we kept our mouths shut. Mom and Dad were dealing with living in a new country and teenage daughter tantrums. They were just pleased I'd made friends and wasn't moping about. Guess they didn't ask enough questions. "We had this one gig —miles from anywhere— and we couldn't all fit into the van, so Kes' dad drove him and me to the club. Only Kes was late and we ended up leaving two hours later than we'd intended. John, Kes' dad, was really pissed at Kes because he was out drinking with his friends and we had to haul him outta the pub when Kes was finally ready. "Laura was driving home from work. John didn't know the road and swung around a corner too fast. He hit her car on the driver's side…" Thomas was lost in the pain of the memory, his huge eyes filled with anguish. "You saw the accident?" Thomas shook his head. "Kes and I were asleep in the back. We'd been playing the night before and then at a party all night. We were totally exhausted. We only woke 139 

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up when we were thrown forward. Fortunately we were both wearing seatbelts." "But it was just an accident, right? He didn't mean to hit her." It was tragic but it was a stupid mistake, nothing more. "A girl died, 'Ric, and John had been drinking." Thomas' tone was sharper than he'd probably intended but it stung anyway. "I know but…" Thomas went on as if he hadn't spoken. Eric had the feeling he just had to get it out of his system. "That wasn't the worst of it. Laura was trapped in the car. John went to find a phone and Kes and I stayed with Laura. She was conscious initially and I sat with her until the ambulance arrived, talking to her and holding her hand. She was having trouble breathing and just got drowsier. I tried to keep her awake but she died just as the police and ambulance turned up." "God, Thomas…" Thomas' hand reached out unconsciously. Eric took it in both hands, trying to give him comfort as he relived the moment of Laura's death. "What happened to Kes' dad? You said he'd been drinking before you set out?" "Yeah…" Thomas was pouring out another shot. 140 

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"You aiming to get hammered this afternoon?" "Got a problem with that?" The tone was more defeated than defensive and it broke Eric's heart. Eric shook his head. "Nope, was just checking. I'll get you to the john when you're ready to puke." Thomas swallowed it down and poured another one. "He was prosecuted and spent three years in prison. It should have been six but he got let out for good behavior." "So why is Wayward going after you?" "At the trial he didn't think he got justice for his sister. He made threats against all of us." Thomas sipped at the whiskey this time. Eric frowned. "I guess the family must have been devastated. What about her mom and dad?" A small sigh escaped Thomas. "They just sat there silently." He was swallowing constantly and Eric wondered if he was about to puke. "I guess they were numb. They just stared at John as if he could bring Laura back to life. The only time they showed any emotion was when I told the court about holding Laura's hand." His hands clenched white-knuckled around the whiskey glass. Taking the glass out of his hands, Eric placed it to one side. He held both of Thomas' hands in his, his thumbs rubbing comfortingly across the knuckles.

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"When I said she died as I held her, her dad started crying. No sobbing, just tears streaming down his face. Simon's face was so angry I could feel his hatred from where I was sitting." "Shit, Tom," Eric murmured, his hands holding Thomas as if anchoring him to now, rather than the misery of his tale. Thomas shuddered and continued, "Anyway, John did time and when he came out he was broken. He died not long afterwards. He just couldn't handle the stress of what happened." "He committed suicide?" "Good God, no!" Thomas seemed genuinely startled that Eric would think that. "He had a heart attack. The doctor said that the stress probably contributed to it." "And Kes? What happened to him?" There was a knock at the kitchen door, startling both of them. Eric looked up at the clock. They'd been talking for an hour. The rental had arrived at 2pm as promised. Thomas got up, swayed a little, and headed for the door. "Hey, Thomas. I've got the car for an Eric Pawlowski."

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A young woman, her long brown hair caught back in a ponytail, held out the keys and a clipboard. She sniffed a little and the hands holding the keys dropped down. "Have you been drinking? I can't let you have the car if you've been drinking." She wasn't aware of the irony of her statement. Thomas pointed to Eric. "He wants the car, not me." Eric got up from the table and went to stand behind Thomas. He laid his hands on Thomas' shoulders and steered him back to the table. Turning back, he saw the young woman's eyebrows climbing up into her hair. "Is he all right?" she asked, peering past him to where Thomas was slumped against the table. "He's fine. We're just chilling. Is that the paperwork for the car?" Eric politely but firmly steered the topic of conversation away from Thomas. "Yeah, you need to sign there and there and— holy shit!" Eric looked up to see the woman looking at him with stunned recognition, her mouth opened in a pink lipsticked 'O' of surprise. He waited. "You're Sky Davies!" He sometimes wondered if they were asking him or telling him who he was. "I heard Thomas was harboring a celebrity, but well… shit! It's a real pleasure to meet you."

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He smiled at her as he took the clipboard. At least she was genuinely shocked, and nice. Some people were so rude and nasty to him, he wondered how they could call themselves fans at all. "You won't tell anyone, will you?" he begged, "Only now's not such a good time." He nodded over his shoulder to his host. Eric frowned as he saw Thomas was drinking yet more whiskey. "Not a word, I promise." She frowned, too, obviously worried about Thomas' behavior. "Is there anything I can do to help?" "No thanks uh…?" he didn't know the girl's name. "Jeannie. My name is Jeannie. Is he gonna be all right, Sky… Eric?" she asked again, peering worriedly around him. "I'll look after him. He's had a bit of a shock, is all." Eric handed Jeannie the clipboard and held his hand out for the keys to the rental car. Jeannie nodded, her ponytail swinging about her ears. "We heard 'bout the fire. Glad you weren't hurt, Eric." "Me, too," Eric said, trying hard to be patient. He just wanted her to go so he could finish the conversation with Thomas. She seemed to get the hint and took a step back. "Well, goodbye then. Bye, Thomas." 144 

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Thomas mumbled a goodbye and Eric shut the door. He was going to have to make some phone calls to Sarah and his parents but he could do that while Thomas slept. At the rate he was drinking he'd pass out or puke before long. "He's an accountant, living in Wales, with three kids and a large mortgage. He got married at twenty. We exchange emails sometimes." Thomas continued as if the interruption hadn't occurred. "Huh?" Eric hadn't caught up. "Kes. We keep in touch." "Wayward hasn't tried to harm him?" "I ought to email him and find out." Thomas was starting to slur a little as he spoke and his eyelids were drooping. Eric looked at the bottle. There was less than a fifth left of a once full bottle. Eric was still confused. He had a million and one questions to ask. "I still don't see why Wayward is going after you now, after all this time. How did he even know you lived here?" "I did some publicity for my last book. I've avoided it up to now but the publishers got stroppy and insisted on it to boost the sales. He must have seen my face in some magazine. It's not hard to find out where people live." Which led back to Eric's thoughts from earlier in the day. "I never did ask you…" 145 

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Thomas raised his head to look at Eric. It looked like it was a real effort to focus. "What do you write? I mean, I'm assuming you have a pen name as I've not seen any Clay on the bestsellers list." Then he winced. Oh God, what if he was a struggling author? "Political thrillers, mainly. My name is Ross Smith." Eric had to remember to shut his mouth. "Ross Smith? But I've got all of his… yours. You're like… huge!" "You've read them?" Thomas seemed inordinately pleased at Eric's confession. "Yeah, I've been reasonably successful over the years. But the last one wasn't my normal 'all-fucking-straight-fucked-up-hero-meets-uptightfucked-up-heroine-they-screw-and-get-more-fucked-up' style and the publishers got a bit antsy. They didn't like the fact there was a gay hero." Thomas gave a cynical smile. "They wanted to portray me as a good Christian straight boy in case there was any comeback. Course, it would have been better if they had actually asked who I fuck before I started the interviews." Eric had got a bit lost, distracted by all the fucking, but he got the gist. He had read the book, of course. The sexuality of the main character wasn't hidden but it wasn't central to the plot either. Eric hadn't been aware of any bad publicity following the publication of the book, but 146 

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working such long hours that sort of thing would have passed him by. "But the book was really successful." Eric had seen it at the top of the bestseller's list for weeks, so the publicity couldn't have affected him too adversely. The last of the whiskey drained into the glasses. "Only takes one condemning speech by the bible thumpers to send the sales through the roof." "Why—" Eric's question came to a halt as Thomas turned an interesting shade of green. "The questions are gonna have to wait, dude. I think I'm gonna hurl." "Sink!" Eric virtually lifted Thomas to the sink as the whiskey made its inevitable return journey. He rubbed Thomas' back gently as his stomach heaved. "Fuck, can't remember the last time meeting a new partner included so much vomit," Thomas gasped out when he could speak again. "We do seem to have cornered the market on gross, don't we?" Eric reached over for a glass to give Thomas a drink of water. "Think I need to crash for a while." The puking left Thomas exhausted and when Eric walked away he was sleeping on the couch with the trash can nearby. He wanted to Google details of the accident, 147 

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although, as it was eleven years ago he wasn't sure what would be on record. But first he had some calls to make. "Mom? Slight change of plan…" His mother was delighted that he'd decided to stay. Eric suggested she just wanted more recipes from Thomas. She scoffed at him but he noticed she didn't exactly deny it. Sarah was not so effusive in her response but her tune changed a little when he let slip that his host was Ross Smith. "You do realize I've been trying to set you up with a deal for one of his books, don't you?" Eric didn't, and told her so pointedly. Sarah was notorious for keeping deals close to her chest until the last minute. "And now you're fucking him," she mused, "Let's hope that doesn't come back to bite us in the ass." It might be a little late for that, Eric thought. It was a grainy picture, poor quality even for a decade ago but it was undoubtedly Simon Wayward. It was a photo of the whole family; all dressed smartly for some unnamed occasion, Simon laughing at his sister as she stared into the camera, a cheeky grin on her face. A lump rose in Eric's throat as he realized the photo had been taken two weeks before the accident. He found it on a page of the local newspaper and above it was a photo 148 

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of the bereaved family at the trial. There weren't enough words to capture the burning hatred in Wayward's eyes or the blank look of despair in Laura's mom's face. There was also a photo of John and Kes heading into the Magistrates' Court. It didn't show much of their faces but their shoulders were slumped and their heads bent. Reading the article that accompanied it, Eric noticed there was no mention of Thomas beyond the mention of a friend being in the car when the accident occurred. Eric spent a couple of hours trying to find every piece of information he could on the accident and trial. There was little beyond a couple of articles; it was before the internet took over the media and the lack of information was frustrating. His search did elicit a couple of details Eric found very interesting. Firstly; Simon Wayward had spent time in jail for assault, and second; Ross Smith made large donations to organizations set up to help the victims and families of drink driving accidents, both here and in the UK. His name was listed in the newsletters, thanking him for his continuing support. There was one of Thomas' books in a stack of novels on the shelf near where he was sitting. Reaching over, Eric snagged it and turned to the back. There was no author's photo. Thomas had shunned the limelight even as a successful and thriving novelist. His refusal must have 149 

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infuriated his publishing company, and Eric was surprised Thomas had gotten away with it for so long. Clicking on the photo of the broken family again, united by grief and anger, Eric found he couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose his brother or sister. And yet the Waywards weren't the only people damaged by the accident. John died, Kes lost his father, and Thomas was still hiding behind his writing. Now, Eric himself had been touched by a tragedy which occurred thousands of miles away over a decade ago. Suddenly, all of the drama was stifling him and he could feel the prickle of a headache behind his eyes. He needed to get out of the house. Snatching the keys from the table, Eric whistled to Toby and Millie. They leaped up, wagging their tails at the prospect of a walk. He laughed at their drooping ears and tails when they discovered they were going in the car. "Not long, guys, I promise." Toby gave him a skeptical glare but clambered into the back of the car obediently, Millie following unhappily. A few minutes later, Eric was pulling onto the road back to Grafton, leaving the area for the first time in a week as the late afternoon sun shone low in his eyes. Damn, but it felt good to be out, away from all the tension. Eric smiled wryly at the irony. He'd come on 150 

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vacation to get away from the stress and drama of making films and walked into his own real life version. Some break this was turning out to be. Thomas, though; he was a whole different matter. Hell, that man made his toes curl… when he wasn't puking up. He was a whole bunch of sexy. Eric felt himself hardening just thinking about the events of yesterday, and the feel of Thomas pounding into his body. As promised, he would be feeling that for days. He pressed down on his groin, trying to get some relief. A moan escaped from his lips. Eric shook his head, trying to drag his concentration back to the road. Cowboy Bob's was ahead of him. Thomas had said there were some open fields where people could walk their dogs near here. Most people parked at Bob's and crossed over to the fields. He pulled into the lot, hearing a low whine from the back as one of the dogs looked up hopefully. "Promised you it wouldn't be long, didn't I, boy?" Eric reached over and scratched behind Toby's ears. The dog leaned into the caress for a minute but the prospect of a walk was too great and he started whining to be let out of the car.

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Eric clipped their leashes on and let them out. As he locked the car Bob walked round the side of the building with a crate of bottles. He spotted Eric and nodded at him. "Afternoon, Eric." "Hi, Bob." Eric was impressed the man remembered his name. He'd only been here the once and since the migraine hadn't felt well enough to tackle another night out. The man put down the crate and came over to him. "You've had an eventful stay, haven't you? It's the most drama Grafton's had in years. Glad you weren't hurt. Diane said you were unwell following the fire. Are you feeling any better?" "It's certainly not been dull, and yeah, I'm much better now. Took a few days, though." Eric grimaced as he thought of the pain he'd been in. "Heard Thomas' been looking after you since the fire," Bob seemed to have something to say. "He's been a good host," Eric said, waiting for the inevitable. Small town gossip, thy name is Diane, he thought grimly. "Diane said Thomas wasn't too good today." Bingo. How the hell did Diane find that one out so quickly? "He's had a bit of a shock, that's all. He'll be fine."

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Bob gave him an apologetic smile. "Jeannie is Diane's daughter. It's a really small town here, Eric." Eric gave him a steady look. "Look, you know the man better than I do but I'm not going to discuss him, not even to his friends." A real grin spread over Bob's face at that. "That boy had better hang onto you. You're just what he needs right now." Eric wondered if that was the equivalent of the father's seal of approval. The dogs were getting restless and tugging at their leashes. Eric looked at them and then at Bob. "Sorry, Bob, I'd best get these kids out for their walk or I'm gonna be in real trouble." Nodding, Bob said, "Good to see you again. Make sure you come back before you leave town." "Count on it." Toby sensed Eric was ready to go and started pulling away, Millie following him as ever. Eric crossed the road and into the fields. The change of scenery was refreshing and he set out to explore, the dogs forging eagerly ahead. As he walked he mulled over his conversation with Bob. He couldn't help feeling that he'd missed something significant in the conversation, something that hadn't been verbalized. Eric was pretty sure Diane would have passed 153 

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on the fact they'd been found in a compromising situation, and that obviously wasn't the first time for Thomas. Part of him was damned sure he ought to be more worried. As he'd said to Thomas, one phone call to the media could do his career some serious damage. Was Bob warning him about the small town mentality or telling him it wouldn't go beyond Thomas' friends? It was niggling at him as he walked, wondering if he should contact Drew and Sarah to prepare a damage limitation exercise. Sarah would have his balls if she found out about the lake— after she'd made him tell her every minute detail. **** He returned to the big house as the sun was dipping below the horizon. The dogs waited patiently by the kitchen door for Eric to open it and sort out their dinner. Eric made a mental note to pay Thomas for their food. They'd been dining on the same food he had for the last few days and Eric figured it must be racking up the food bill. He would have to get them used to kibble again, sharpish. As he switched the light on in the kitchen he found Thomas was slumped over the kitchen table, his head resting in his arms. There was a large glass of water, a pot

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of coffee and a bottle of Advil in front of him. Thomas raised his head, blinking blearily against the sudden light. Putting the leashes on the worktop, Eric toed his sneakers off to avoid tracking in any dirt. "How are you feeling?" "Goddamned hammer in my head, but apart from that, okay." Thomas' voice was raw and raspy. "Thought you'd gone." "I just took the dogs for a walk. Bob says hi." Eric reached over for a mug and poured himself a coffee. He was getting used to the taste of black coffee as he hadn't bought creamer since he'd been staying at Thomas'. The implication of Thomas' words struck him. He raised an eyebrow at Thomas who was watching him, his expression giving nothing away. "You thought I'd leave you without saying goodbye?" "The car was gone, so were the dogs." "So you thought after standing watching you puke I'd leave without saying a word?" Thomas had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "Pretty stupid, huh?" "Pretty insulting actually. I don't what type of men you've met in the past, Thomas, but my mom brought me up with better manners than that." Eric's tone was sharp, hurt by Thomas' assumption. 155 

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"'M sorry," Thomas mumbled as he slumped further into his seat, not meeting Eric's eyes. The anger drained out of Eric as quickly as it rose. Thomas was distressed and hungover; it was an easy mistake to make. "'S okay, dude. Have you eaten?" "Yeah, some crackers. Think that's 'bout all I can manage at the moment." "Would you like a bath with me and some of that girly bubble shit you've got hidden in your bathroom?" Thomas raised his head and looked at Eric properly, seeing the twinkle in his eye. "The same girly bubble shit I caught you using a couple of days ago?" Eric grinned at him. "Yup. Well, girly bubbles or not?" "Please." Thomas winced as he nodded, obviously regretting the movement. Eric fed the dogs and went upstairs to start the bath. The room quickly filled with the steamy scent of hell knew what combination of flowers and herbs they'd shoved in this one. When the bath was half full, they were both getting in it after all, he went downstairs to collect Thomas. He stopped in the doorway and giggled at the sight and sound

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of his host asleep, head resting on his arms and snoring gently. It was a shame to disturb him but he'd feel better after a soak. Shaking his shoulder gently, Eric woke Thomas enough to get him moving. The stairs were tricky to negotiate, Thomas' legs not being entirely with the program, but they managed to get as far as the top landing without an incident. In the bathroom, Eric rested Thomas against the wall as he undressed him, ignoring the, "'M big boy now, Mom." Eric batted his hands away and got him naked, finally undressing himself. He breathed a sigh of relief when they were both in the bath, Thomas' head resting against his chest. They relaxed in silence for a while, Eric's hand lazily swishing water over them so they didn't get cold. It was a surprise when Thomas broke the silence. "I was scared you wouldn't be here when I woke up." Eric's arms tightened around Thomas in mute apology. "I'm sorry, I just needed to clear my head for a bit." Thomas tilted his head to look up at Eric. His eyes looked red and itchy. He obviously hadn't managed to get

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his lenses out. "I'm sorry too. You shouldn't have had to put up with all this shit." "Nothing to apologize for. God, I… you… He was stuck for the right words to convey what he wanted to say but Thomas seemed to understand as he placed a kiss on Eric's forearm. Eric kissed the top of his wet hair. "The people round here, they're quite protective of you." He felt the sigh under his arms. "I've lived here all my life, except for the time in England. I've not really gone anywhere since I came back. It's been hard to really focus on anything except the writing." "No relationships?" "None recently. I was never all that bothered about it. The occasional hook-ups suited me and not many people want to be buried here. There's not much work around here unless you're on the farms." "You said there was trouble when you were younger, before you left?" A small snort. Eric wasn't sure whether Thomas was laughing or not. "I was caught balls deep in another boy behind the chapel." It didn't take a genius to work that one out. "Mark?" "Yeah. He makes it pretty obvious, doesn't he?"

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"Just a bit." Eric worked hard to damp down the jealousy rising inside him. It was helped by the feel of a naked, wet Thomas against him. "He doesn't actually want me but he's not sure he wants anyone else to have me, either." Eric wasn't convinced about the first bit. To his — admittedly interested— viewpoint Mark James was still showing signs of interest in Thomas. "Were you together for long?" Thomas snuggled back against Eric. "We were never together, at least in the conventional sense. He was my best friend; we grew up together, played together, and got into trouble a lot. It drove Ted mad. He was always blaming me for leading Mark astray." Eric smiled against his hair. "And did you?" "Course I did. I made it my mission to lead him as far off the reservation as I could. Only I went a bit too far." "You made him gay?" Thomas gave a bark of laughter. "I was his friend, 'Ric, not God." "Huh, very funny!" Eric was tempted to tickle him in retaliation but decided to spare the man. "I thought so. Anyway, I've known I was gay since Mindy Freeman flashed her newly grown tits at the football team." 159 

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"You were in the football team?" Eric just couldn't picture it somehow. Thomas was lean muscle. He'd pictured Thomas doing track. "Oh, come on, think about it," Tom said wistfully. "All those sweaty boys? Of course I played football in school." "So naked tits at the football team and you weren't interested?" "Only in the boners popping out all around me." "Ah. Kind of a giveaway." Oh yeah, Eric had been there as well. Thomas agreed. "Yeah. But the biggest surprise? Mark was watching me, not her. Turns out he'd been watching me for months, trying to work out if I was interested or not." That was hardly a surprise, Eric thought. He trailed a washcloth of soapy water over Thomas' chest in lieu of what he actually wanted to say. At this stage 'Mine' might not be welcome. "So your best friend turned out to be gay as well and Daddy didn't take it very well?" Thomas gave a low, drawn-out laugh. "Ted was livid when he found out. He couldn't even say his son was just finding a willing hole to stick his dick because I was porking him. Kinda ruined my chances of staying with them to finish school." 160 

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"What happened between you and Mark?" "Nothing much," Thomas slid a leg over the side of the bath and Eric watched the water run down his leg, droplets getting caught in the fine hair. He had to work hard to suppress the twitch of his cock. "Mark decided it wasn't worth losing his dad over a fuck and turned into a good straight boy. I decided that was the last thing I wanted to be and fucked anything that moved until we left for England, including half the football team and Mindy Freeman." "You batted on the other side of the fence? Devil child." "I was," Thomas agreed, "Got the stuffing knocked out of me after the accident though. Didn't really bother with relationships much after that." "Why not? I mean, didn't you want someone to talk to?" Eric was listening but his attention was caught by the curve of Thomas' jaw in the low light of the bathroom. "Not really," Thomas' voice was low as he confided, "I was almost a recluse until my mom forced me to finish school. Every time I closed my eyes, all I kept seeing was Laura dying in my arms. I still do sometimes. I couldn't talk to the shrink she found for me, let alone a friend or lover. "Before you, I don't think I'd spoken to anyone about it in nearly a decade."

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Eric kissed his neck, sucking up a hickey and feeling Thomas hiss against the sting. He was feeling insecure for some reason. All the talk about the past was making him feel like an outsider. It was irrational and stupid and he wanted so badly to mark Thomas as his. He held him tighter against his chest, one hand splayed against his heart feeling its reassuring beat, the other sliding around to cup his groin. Thomas sighed again. "I've spent so long controlling everything; what I said, what I did, who touched me, just because I've been so scared of waking up and finding the world gone to hell again. Then you come into my life and I find myself wanting to hand over a little of that control to you. That scares me rigid." "Do you trust me?" Eric stroked his cock, half-hard in his hand. "What?" "I said, do you trust me?" Another stroke and it firmed under his palm. "You've got my dick in your hand. I'd tell you the sky was purple if it encouraged you to keep doing that." Eric gave a firm tug. "Yeah, shit, I trust you. Do that again." Eric obliged, feeling Thomas' hips snap forward and a moan escape from between his lips. "You trusted me with 162 

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something that's shaped your entire life and I've trusted you and, hell, all your friends with my career. Now I don't know about you, but I think we can move on from this trust shit." He set up a firm, smooth rhythm; holding Thomas back so he couldn't move too much and feeling the frustration build in the man as he couldn't get the release he so badly needed. "What do you want, Thomas?" he asked, as he changed his strokes from long to short. "Want to come," Thomas' head lolled back, his mouth slack and eyes closed as his whole attention was focused on the rigid flesh between his legs. "What if I don't let you come? What if I keep you hanging on, wanting but never quite reaching your climax?" His voice, low and husky, breathed across Thomas' ear and his fingers tightened around the base of his dick. "I'd… tell… you… fuck… oh, fuck, do that again," Thomas ordered as Eric rubbed the pad of his thumb over the head of Thomas' cock. "Please." "Do what? Oh, this?" He did again and Thomas groaned. "Please, 'Ric, let me come." Thomas was begging now, all restraint gone. "Need to come so badly." 163 

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Eric nudged at Thomas' head so he could suck at the soft skin under his ear. "I could keep you like this for hours. Teasing, playing but it wouldn't be much fun for you, would it? Keeping you from shooting that spunk all over your belly." "Bastard!" Thomas hissed. "Just Eric." Eric let go, pulling firmly on Thomas' cock, watching him do exactly that, streams of it straying all over his belly and chest. He felt Thomas shake and shudder under his hands until his orgasm had run its course, leaving him pliant and boneless against Eric's chest. They were quiet as Thomas recovered, the silence only broken when Thomas asked, "What about you?" He hadn't come, hadn't even really got that excited. He'd just wanted to bring Thomas to orgasm under his control. "Don't worry about me. You can owe me one." "Mmmm," Thomas agreed sleepily. The water was cooling so Eric quickly washed the spunk off Thomas' skin and pushed him forward slightly so he could stand up. He managed to get them both dried and into the bedroom. It was still early but after the day they'd both had, sleep wouldn't be long coming. Tucking Thomas

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into bed he said, "I'll turn the lights off and be back before you know it." Thomas was staring up at him sleepily. "You haven't eaten." Eric had forgotten that. He was hungry but not ravenous. He would make do with a handful of crackers until morning time. The handful of crackers turned into a large snack including chips, fruit, and cheese. It was almost half an hour before he returned to bed to find Thomas asleep, wrapped around a pillow. He smiled at the sight, slipping in behind him so that he could pull Thomas as close as possible to him. It didn't take long for sleep to claim him as well, his tired eyes closing as Thomas snored gently in his arms.

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Chapter 6 The next morning saw both men trying to catch up with their lives. Eric borrowed a laptop and the kitchen table to deal with his emails and phone calls while Thomas disappeared into the office to do some research for his new book. They promised each other a midmorning coffee and 'extras' in the sunroom at eleven. Eric was in the middle of outlining with Sarah the conversation he'd had with Thomas the previous day when Mark walked in through the kitchen door. He was closely followed by his father, their hands hovering over the weapons at their hip. He wasn't sure who was more shocked; himself for the surprise or Mark for seeing him sitting at the table. "Uh Sarah, I think I'd better call you back. The police are here again." Normally his agent would throw a hissy fit at being interrupted but this time she deferred immediately saying she'd speak to him later. He ended the call and looked at the two law enforcement officers. "Morning, Ted. Mark," He nodded at them both. "Want me to get Thomas?"

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"Please," Ted agreed. "Are you both here on your own?" At Eric's nod, he relaxed saying, "Is that coffee I smell?" "Help yourself," Eric offered, sighing inwardly as he realized the 'extras' would have to wait for a while. He left the kitchen and knocked gently on the study door. "I thought we said eleven. Still got fifteen minutes to go." Thomas opened the door, an amused grin playing about his lips. It disappeared when Eric said, "Ted and Mark are here. They want to speak to us both." "Right with you," Thomas shut the office door behind him and headed towards the kitchen, his hand tangling in Eric's briefly. The intimate touch seemed to reassure them both. The two policemen were pouring milk into their mugs as they reentered the kitchen. "Think you're going to need to make more coffee, 'Ric," Thomas said, as he poured the last of it into a mug. Eric looked at him indignantly. "Why do I have to make it? This is your house." Thomas smirked at him. "House rules. Youngest member of the family gets to make the coffee." "Mighty strange rules," Eric grumbled as he took the coffeepot over to the machine. He refilled it and sat 167 

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back down at the table, moving the laptop and cell out of the way of Ted's mug. The older policeman looked amused at the playful exchange while Mark just stared into his cup. Eric wondered if this was the first time he'd seen Thomas in a loving relationship. If so, it was long past due. Eric stared at Mark's left hand. He was wearing a wedding ring. So he'd stayed a 'good straight boy' after all. "Why are you here?" Thomas asked as he sat down next to Eric. "We heard Simon Wayward was seen in Grafton yesterday." Mark told him, "We came over to check he hadn't tried to make contact." Eric heard a sharp gasp and saw Thomas had turned deathly pale beneath his freckles. Ted looked at them both seriously. Eric tangled their fingers together again on the table. Blow discretion. The man needed comfort. Thomas twitched beneath his hand but left them where they were. "We contacted Kevin. Over the past two months he and his family have been the target of a number of incidents, from their dog being poisoned to their car being burnt out. They knew someone was harassing them, just didn't know who. The incidents stopped about three weeks ago." "When he came here." Thomas said.

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Mark nodded. "He's stepped up his game here, though. This is the first time he's directly attacked people." "Not necessarily," disagreed Thomas, "He may not have known the cottage was occupied. After all, it wasn't the day before he met us on the lake. It was Eric's first morning there." Ted looked dubious. "True, but he could have been watching you for a few days. Let's not rule out the possibility he's becoming more dangerous." "Is that why you walked straight in here?" Eric asked, staring at Mark as he did so. He was pleased to note a slight red stain along his cheekbones but other than that his expression remained the same. It was Ted who answered. "Yeah, we weren't sure if he could be in the house already. Sorry about that." "Nothing to be sorry for," Eric said, but looked at Mark as he did so. The younger policeman visibly relaxed and gave him a small nod. Eric decided it was time he made an effort to get to know Mark a little better. It was obvious he still had feelings for Thomas and equally obvious those feelings weren't returned any more. Getting up from the table, Eric walked over to the coffee machine. "Any more coffee?" As they all nodded he said, "After I've had mine of course." 169 

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The policemen went to leave after thirty minutes, with Thomas' agreement that they could scout around the property. As they left Mark said, "Tom, Bob asked if he was going to see you down at the bar tonight. It's your turn, remember?" Eric raised a quizzical eyebrow at Thomas, amused to see the look of embarrassment on his face. "Uh… I guess so… um… yes." Thomas stammered. "Your turn to do what, Thomas?" Eric asked, amused to see Thomas going even redder. He was so red his freckles were almost glowing. "Play the balls for the old ladies," laughed Ted. At Eric's look of incomprehension the policeman explained, "It's Bingo night at the bar." "You play Bingo?" Eric's jaw dropped and Thomas glared at him, the fierce effect somewhat mitigated by the bright red color of his face. Ted nodded enthusiastically. "He's been helping the old folks since he was a teenager. My Momma got him involved. He's a favorite of the blue rinse brigade." Thomas groaned as he watched Eric break into a broad grin. "Ted, you've just destroyed what little street cred I had left."

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"You do realize I'm never going to let you forget this, don't you?" Eric laughed openly at Thomas' mortified expression. "Just for that, m'boy, you can come with me and help." "I've always been a favorite of old ladies." Eric informed him. "I'll bet," muttered Thomas. "Sorry to break into your conversation, but we'd best get on with surveying the house and yard." They both turned as Mark spoke somewhat sharply. Ted looked at his son but didn't call him on his tone, just nodded at Mark's words. "It's almost inevitable he will come back here. He hasn't finished what he started." "Which is?" asked Eric. "Hurting you," Mark said simply. "Almost killing Eric wasn't enough?" Thomas asked in an incredulous tone. "The guy is mentally unstable. He's done time for assault and other offenses. He's gone for easier options so far, but I…" Ted paused, "We…" he amended, looking at his son, "Think he's got a particular agenda for you, Thomas." Thomas just stared. "But why me? I was just a passenger in the car." His hand came out, seeking and 171 

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finding Eric's again. Eric shifted closer to him, lending body warmth as support. "Our theory is that you're successful. You've made it big while he's been locked up. He's angry at you for being happy and successful while he's still stuck in the past, living out his sister's death." Feeling Thomas' hand tremble under his, Eric squeezed it gently. "Let Ted and Mark look around, Tom. We need to talk about something." All three men looked at him in surprise but the policemen just nodded and left the kitchen. "What do you want to discuss?" Thomas asked curiously. "I want you to think about coming to LA with me," As Thomas opened his mouth he said quickly, "Just until Wayward is caught. You'll be safer away from here and I have some people who can look after you." "Babysit you mean?" Thomas pointed out, his tone flat. Eric winced but he nodded. Might as well be up front about it. He wasn't leaving Thomas here alone when he left Grafton. "It's a short-term thing, Tom. He's a dangerous man and you aren't safe on your own. Please," He wasn't above begging if it kept his lover safe and well.

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Thomas looked as agitated as all hell. Eric felt nervous as Thomas pulled away from his touch. "I don't… I can't… LA isn't good for me. I can't write there. It stifles me." Reaching out, Eric pulled Thomas back into his arms and wrapped him in as tight an embrace as he could manage. Thomas was rigid in his arms but Eric refused to let go. "It won't last for long. They'll find him and you can come back here, I promise." "I was fine before I met you. I don't need protecting." Thomas' voice was still that flat, unemotional tone, his muscles locked against Eric's comfort. "Course you don't, normally." Eric nodded. Thomas was not a man to give up control easily. He had to tread carefully. Tugging on Thomas to follow him, Eric walked over to the table and sat down, pulling him down onto his lap. "You're not weak or stupid. And you know I don't think that about you. You do know that, don't you?" He waited for Thomas' nod before continuing. "But this isn't normal times and that man could hurt you or kill you without thinking about it. I'm not letting the man I love get hurt when I could do something about it." Thomas blinked, then his eyes opened wide and blazed such a glorious ocean blue Eric was lost in his gaze. "You love me?" 173 

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"Fuckin' idiot. Of course I love you. What do you need? A written declaration to believe me?" Eric murmured, his hand reaching out to stroke Thomas' face. Thomas leaned into the touch, nuzzling against his hand. "I love you, too." "Know that too, moron," laughed Eric as he reached up to capture Thomas' mouth in a quick, chaste kiss that got out of hand the minute their lips met. They were brought back to reality by a discreet cough and turned to see both policemen in the doorway. "The house looks fine. We'll look around the yard and lake before we leave," Ted said. Thomas nodded but didn't get off Eric's lap, much to the younger man's pleasure. "Okay. I'll see you at Bob's later on. We'll call if we see any sign of him before then." "Likewise." Then they were left on their own again, kissing each other with increasingly heated passion. Feeling his cock push against Thomas' thigh, Eric writhed a little to get some friction. Chuckling against his lips, Thomas pushed down, the pressure making Eric gasp. "'Ric?" "Hmmm?" "Is it time for elevenses?" Thomas made it very clear he wasn't talking about coffee and biscuits. 174 

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Eric stood up, spilling Thomas off his lap. "You're going to take me up those stairs and fuck me senseless. Then you can cook me lunch!" he ordered. Thomas raised one shapely eyebrow. "Oh I am, am I? And why would I do that?" "Because you get to top and then you get to live!" At Thomas' confused expression Eric explained, "If I cook you'll die of food poisoning." "Good point. On with the fucking, then!" Grinning, Eric followed Thomas up the stairs. It wasn't hard to get Thomas to do as he was told; he just needed the right incentive. **** By the end of the day, Eric had come to the conclusion that the little old ladies of Grafton were the horniest, grabbiest bunch of women he was ever likely to meet, old or young. Jesus H Christ on a kebab stick! His ass had been pinched so many times it was painful to sit down. He was currently hiding in the bathroom in Bob's in the forlorn hope that one of the old dears wouldn't follow him in on some pretext —like her teeth falling out or the battery on her hearing aid needing replacing. He'd fiddled with more ears than a doctor and as for the first— ugh, just 175 

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ugh! And Eric had discovered they were just excuses to get him within groping distance. Thomas— he was fine, sitting up there on stage with the tumbler of balls, his butt firmly planted on his seat. The bastard had watched Eric's painful progress through the afternoon with increasing amusement. He'd even encouraged them with their inappropriate touching as he called out the numbers. And Jesus, fuck, lady, what was with the hand on the cock? He'd been hard put not to bark 'Hands off the merchandise!' Eric twisted his head over his shoulder, looking for the bruises on his backside. "Dude, you can't see that far around unless you're that creepy movie chick." He hadn't heard Thomas enter the bathroom. "Are you on your own?" Eric asked warily. Thomas smirked at him. "Worried about your virtue, princess? All those sweet, little old ladies after a piece of your cherry pie?" "Dude, I'm black and blue all over from the sweet old dears and you didn't help!" He pointed an accusing finger at Thomas. "I thought I was very helpful, pointing out where the teeth had landed."

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"Under the heater covered in fluff and shit and then I had to wash them!" Thomas ducked as Eric's hands flailed about in his distress. "Poor baby," Thomas crooned as he took Eric into his arms, "Let me make it better?" Eric eyed him suspiciously. "How do you plan to do that?" "By taking you home and rubbing nice soothing lotion all over your boo-boos." "Boo-boos? How old do you think I am?" He knew it was a mistake as soon as he looked at the wicked gleam in Thomas' eyes. "Four, five years old at tops." Huh! Eric turned in his arms and slid his hand down between them, cupping and squeezing the bulge in Thomas' jeans. "You do this with a five year old, Mr. Clay?" It was his turn to smirk as Thomas gasped and his eyes rolled back. "Fuck no, baby!" "You do it with babies?" Eric asked as he felt Thomas harden under his hand. "Only you, 'Ric, only you." Thomas was reduced to babbling as he pushed into the caress. "You only want to play with me?" 177 

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Thomas nodded frantically. "Don't stop. God, don't stop!" "You want to come in your jeans?" Eric squeezed harder, stroking up and down the hard length of his shaft. "No! Suck me, you bastard!" Thomas pushed on his shoulders trying to force him to his knees. Cupping the tent in Thomas' jeans, Eric appreciated the whimpering that erupted from Thomas' full lips. "You want me to suck your cock with all those upright citizens of Grafton out there expecting their next round of Bingo?" "They can wait their turn." Thomas pushed Eric down hard. Without finesse, Eric ripped open Thomas' jeans and pulled out the rockhard dick. He sucked it down hard, not bothering to lick or tease, his throat closing around the head of Thomas' cock. "Fuck!" Thomas howled as he started to come, his hips shuddering as he spurted wave after wave of come between Eric's willing and greedy lips. Thomas continued to shudder through the aftershocks of his orgasm, his hands clutching Eric's thick hair, until he slipped out of Eric's mouth. Eric pressed his face against the softening cock, smelling the musky, woodsy sweat of his man. "I think you're going to kill me," gasped Thomas.

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"Death by fucking? Sounds a good way to go, babe," Eric placed a soft kiss to the head of Thomas' cock, feeling the man shiver under his lips. "How much longer do we need to be here?" he asked as he got to his feet. He stretched lazily, easing out the kinks in his muscles as he watched Thomas tuck his prick into his boxers and zip his pants. "'Bout another hour. Then we can stay for a drink and leave before the evening crowd gets in." "You don't want to spend the evening here?" Thomas shook his head, a frown marring his forehead. "Think I'd better do some calling around if I'm coming to LA with you." The look he gave Eric plainly said, 'don't make anything of it'. Eric could do subtle. He nodded and said, "I'm glad you're okay with the idea." Then he grabbed hold of Thomas' arm and wrapped him into the tightest embrace he could manage, ignoring Thomas' fake coughing. He could do subtle; he just chose not to. There was a knock on the door. "You boys all right? Thelma said she heard yelling." Bob's voice came through the wooden door. "She was probably standing at the door, listening in," muttered Eric, "We're fine, Bob," he called out. "Ready for round two?" he asked Thomas. 179 

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"Is your ass?" Thomas leaned back in Eric's arms, his eyes twinkling mischievously. Eric's ass sent up a white flag of surrender and he said hastily, "No, but the sooner we get out of here, the sooner I can get you home and fuck you." "Again?" Thomas' eyebrow shot up. "You complaining?" Thomas shook his head. "Nope, but my dick is raw." Eric pulled him out of the bathroom. As they walked back to the stage, Eric crowded up behind Thomas whispering, "Good thing it's your ass I want this time, then," and gave the aforementioned bodily part a firm pinch. Eric was owed that one. **** It was dark by the time they returned to the big house, and Eric was concerned that the dogs needed a walk to stretch their legs. They pulled up in front of the house and walked around, hand in hand again, to the kitchen door. Thomas got out his keys. Normally he didn't bother locking the door but with Wayward in the area they didn't want to take chances. He fiddled with the lock for a few minutes. 180 

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"Just open the door already," Eric could hear the dogs whining on the other side of the door. He stopped as Thomas raised worried eyes to look at him. "'Ric, the door isn't locked. I swear I locked it before we left." "We need to leave here, Tom, and phone the police." Eric started pulling him away from the door but Thomas struggled in his grip. "But the dogs…" he protested weakly. Eric didn't loosen his fingers around Thomas' arm. "They're fine. We can hear them. Come on, we need to get Ted and Mark here now." "But…" "We're leaving now." "I can't let you do that, Mr. Davies, I'm sorry." They turned at the sound of the soft English accent. The man from their encounter at the lake was standing two feet away, a small pistol trained on Thomas' forehead. He waved the gun at the door. "In you go." There was a man facing them with a gun trained at his lover's head and all Eric could think was what would the script say? Of course, if he really was an action hero rather than an overpaid actor he would be able to

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overpower Wayward, wrestle the gun away from him, and tie him up all before the cops turned up. Of course, he thought wryly, he would also be running around in a filthy wife-beater and bare feet. His feet were like leather underneath after all the films he'd made. Now wasn't the time to ask if he could go and change first. "'Ric?" "Mr. Davies?" Eric looked up to see both men staring at him. "Are you all right?" Thomas' hand was on his arm and he had a concerned expression on his face. The guy had a gun pointing at his head and he was worrying about him? Eric nodded at him and covered Thomas' hand with his. "Yeah, 'm fine. Sorry." "Now that we've established that, can we get on with this, please?" Wayward gestured impatiently to the closed door. Stepping forward, Thomas opened the door. Both dogs bounded at them, ecstatic to see them returning after being shut up all afternoon. They spotted the strange man and immediately started barking at him. Eric saw Wayward flinch but although the dogs were loud they weren't aggressive guard dogs. They were more likely to lick any intruder to death than protect him or Thomas. 182 

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"Ssshhh, guys, hush up!" Thomas reached out to calm them down, as he was first in through the door. "Shut them up in the hallway," Simon Wayward pointed to Eric. "They need to go outside for a bit. They've been in all day and won't settle." Eric said quietly. He watched as indecision crossed Wayward's face. "Shut them outside then. They won't go anywhere with you here. And please don't think of performing any action man stunts. I'm a bloody good shot." Eric went to protest but he caught Thomas' eye. He was pleading with Eric not to make a fuss, or get the man angry. Giving a slight nod to let Thomas know he'd received the message, Eric called both the dogs. They bounded over to him, excited by the prospect of a walk. He gave them both a stroke then opened the door, half-pushing them outside and shutting it quickly. The excited barks soon gave way to confused whining as they realized their owner wasn't following them into the cool night air. "Sit down," Wayward pointed to the kitchen table and the men both sat, Eric pointedly bringing one of the chairs round so he could sit next to Thomas. He reached out and took Thomas' hand, feeling it cold and clammy under his.

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"Sweet," Wayward sneered, and Eric wanted to punch the sneer off his weak face. "What do you want?" asked Thomas in a low, calm voice. "Payback." Well, that was blunt enough. "An eye for an eye?" Wayward nodded. "If you like." "Not particularly," Thomas said, and Eric felt the tension ratchet up several notches. He kept his hold on Thomas' hand and the thought crossed his mind that he would never let this man go. "Let Eric and the dogs leave. They've got nothing to do with this." "No, Tom," Eric started to protest but Thomas cut him off with a look. "It's nothing to do with you, 'Ric. You nearly died in that fire and I'm not having you get hurt because of something that happened in my past." "I'm sorry about that," Wayward interrupted, surprising them both with the sincere regret in his voice. "What?" "I thought the cottage was empty. It was just meant to frighten you," he said, looking at Thomas, "Not hurt anyone." 184 

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"It was empty up to the day before," agreed Thomas. "It's been a while since I rented out the cottage." "You mean you two aren't…" Wayward paused, "…together?" "We weren't until your little stunt." Wayward looked frankly astonished and Eric began to realize this dude wasn't that well organized. In fact, he didn't seem to know shit about what he was doing except why he was doing it. Did that make him easier to get around, or more dangerous? "Look…" Thomas started to say. "No, you look," Wayward cut him off. For such a little man (little man with a gun) his voice was surprisingly deep and firm. "I don't bloody care who you're fucking but you're not leaving here to get the old Bill." Eric was momentarily thrown by the English slang. "I wouldn't leave anyway." "Eric," Thomas sounded completely exasperated now. "Thomas, I'm not leaving, so shut up." Eric saw the uncertainty as Thomas decided whether to bristle or not, and then the grateful slump of his shoulders as he realized he could let go, he didn't have to face this alone. Eric put his arms around Thomas' shoulders and looked at Wayward. "You say you want payback? His 185 

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life for your sister's?" He felt the full-body shudder that went through Thomas, though he tried hard to suppress it. "Seems a fair deal to me." Wayward was more relaxed now as he leaned against the kitchen counter. "He wasn't the one who hurt your sister." Wayward shrugged indifferently. "He was in the car. The driver's dead. Someone has to pay." "So you're picking on a seventeen year old kid in the car?" "She was an eighteen year old smashed to death by a drunk driver!" Wayward shouted, his control slipping. Thomas sighed, the soft sound making Eric turn to look at him. "She wasn't." "Wasn't what?" Wayward asked, obviously as confused as Eric felt. "Smashed." "She was trapped in the car. Of course she was smashed." Thomas shook his head, ignoring Eric's attempt to stop the conversation as it was provoking Wayward. "She wasn't bleeding except for a scrape across her head. I talked to her. Everyone else was… busy… so I sat beside her and held her hand. We talked until she…" he caught his breath, "…lapsed into unconsciousness."

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"Laura was talking?" Wayward's voice was thin, reedy, as though he was trying to hold back the emotion. "She was," Thomas smiled at him, although Eric could see the tears threatening to spill, "She was complaining her chest hurt and that she was spiky and why did she have to go to hospital when she was spiky? I didn't get that and couldn't ask her before she…" Wayward drew in a shuddery breath. "She'd forgotten to shave her legs. I always made fun of her spiky legs." His face went blank for a minute as if he was remembering such a memory but only for a moment, then he shook his hand as if throwing off a time when he was happy and his face hardened. "It doesn't change the fact that my sister is dead and no one paid for the crime." "John Hayden went to prison. He paid his price." Thomas' voice was sharper, less defeated, and Eric cheered inwardly. He'd been worried Thomas would just blindly accept he was the one who had to pay for the accident. "Not good enough," hissed Wayward, his thin face drawn in hateful lines. "He should have gone for life for killing Laura." Standing up, Thomas shook off Eric's restraining hand. "It was an accident. He didn't mean to hit her." "He was drunk and he never said sorry for killing her." 187 

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"He wasn't allowed to." Eric's heart broke at the pain on Simon's face and the regret on Thomas'. There it was. The whole crux of the problem. "The police told my mum that her daughter was dead, and all she could think of was making sure the driver was all right. She wanted to talk to Hayden, to tell him she understood it was an accident. And then, and then, she found out he was drunk and he never said sorry." Wayward was working himself into a rage. All the pent-up hatred and grief of the last eleven years finally allowed a chance to spew out. Thomas took a step forward as if to comfort the man but Wayward stepped back and steadied his hand with the gun. "Sit down!" "But—" Eric stood up and pulled Thomas back to his seat. "Sit down, Thomas. Come on." He coaxed Thomas to sit back down again and waited for the gunman to calm down. After a few minutes Wayward seem to relax again and Eric took the opportunity to ask a question. "Why now. It's been over a decade. What have you been doing?" "In and out of prison mainly; petty theft, assault, that sort of thing. I wasn't thinking about it much until 188 

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Mum said it had been ten years since Laura was murdered by that bastard, and I thought if the law won't give us justice, I'll do it m'self. Then I found out the driver was dead and I thought as he'd escaped justice I'd go after the other two bastards in the car. The ones who refused to admit they'd seen him hit my sister." "I was asleep." Thomas quietly pointed out. "So you say!" "So why go after Thomas and not Kes?" Eric asked. Wayward looked confused. "Who's Kes?" "Kevin Hayden," supplied Thomas. "I did but he has kids. I pulled a few stunts, hurt their dog, but I couldn't take their Daddy away from the kids." Thomas' eyes narrowed "But I'm expendable because I'm gay and don't have kids?" he asked bitterly. Wayward looked startled, as if the thought hadn't occurred to him. "You're rich, you're famous, you've had a fantastic life and my sister is dead. Seems simple enough to me," he explained. As he trotted out his rationale for hurting Thomas, Eric realized Wayward was completely convinced he was justified in his actions. Was the guy insane or just a murderer? The Mafia murdered people for less. Simon

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Wayward was hardly a Mafioso Don. He smiled to himself at the absurdity of that thought. "You find my sister's death a laughing matter, Mr. Davies?" "Eric. My name is Eric Pawlowski." corrected Eric, "And no, I'm sorry, Mr. Wayward, nothing about it is a laughing matter." "Then I think we're done." "So what now? You're going to shoot us and then what? The police know you caused the fire. You're going to be caught and then you're going to jail." "I've done time before." Thomas had been slumped in the chair, not really paying too much attention but now he looked up. "For murder? This isn't Britain. You could get the needle in this state." There was a fleeting glimmer of panic across Wayward's face. "You hadn't thought about that, had you?" Shrugging, Wayward said, "Whatever. My life ended when Laura died anyway." "And if had been you? If you had been the one that died, would you have wanted her to give up on life?"

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"Of course not, but she was special. Laura was brilliant. She was going to be a doctor. I was never like her." "You were her older brother," Thomas said softly. "She would have wanted the best for you. Just like my little sister does for me." For a moment Wayward paused. "You have a sister?" Eric noticed this gave the gunman paused for thought and wondered if the concept of Thomas having a younger sister was enough to save him. Thomas nodded at him. "I do. She's called Alex, Alexandra. She's still in Britain." "You're lucky to still have her." "He is, but he can't see her unless she visits him." Eric said. A stunned look on his face, Thomas turned to look at him. "How did…" He ignored the half-uttered question, turning instead to Simon Wayward. "I get that we can't stop you but before you do, I want you know a little bit about the man you're going to kill." "This isn't This Is Your Life. I don't care who the fuck he is."

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Eric ignored that as well. "You think your family were the only people affected by Laura's death?" "Eric, don't do this," Thomas pleaded. "It's not important." Kneeling in front of Thomas, Eric took both of his hands in his. "I know I've only known you for two weeks but the one thing I do know is how much Laura's death shaped your whole life." "What do you mean?" Wayward's question stopped Thomas as he went to deny Eric's allegation. Letting go of Thomas' hands, Eric stood up and said, "I need to show you a couple of things. We need to go to the sunroom." Wayward stared at him suspiciously. Eric held out his hands. "I only want to show you something in there. I can bring it out here if you like." "No. We'll go but you lead the way and your boyfriend comes with me," Wayward gestured with the gun. Eric pulled Thomas up and they went to the sunroom, Thomas and Wayward bringing up the rear. In the large room Wayward pushed Thomas down onto one of the low sofas and indicated a chair for Eric to sit in.

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"When your sister died, Thomas and Kes were on their way to a gig. Thomas played guitar in a band they'd formed." Eric started. He handed Thomas the guitar that sat in the corner of the room. "Play the guitar, Tom. Show him what you used to do." Thomas stared at him helplessly, his fingers curled around the guitar, unmoving. "I-I-" His mouth worked but nothing came out and then anger replaced the confusion and longing as his fingers clutched onto the guitar. "What are you trying to prove, Eric? I play and sing." Kneeling in front of him again, Eric stroked his face in a conciliatory gesture. "For yourself. I heard you once. I thought it was the radio. When was the last time you performed in public?" Thomas swallowed and for a minute Eric thought he wasn't going to answer, then "The night before Laura's death." Wayward looked at him sharply. "Why'd ya stop?" Thomas turned to him. "Every time I pick up my guitar it reminds me a young girl died because I wanted to play another gig." He put the guitar down and wrapped his arms around himself in a defensive gesture. 193 

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Then Eric asked another question. "How often do you leave Grafton?" "Why are you doing this?" Thomas, asked, his large, hurt eyes pleading Eric to stop the questioning. "Because he may see the man who killed his sister but I see the kid who never leaves home because somewhere out there he had to sit holding the hand of a dying eighteen year old girl and he's petrified he might have to do that again. "I'm asking you again, how often do you leave Grafton?" "This is bollocks." Wayward exclaimed impatiently. "I saw you on that publicity tour." Eric kept his eyes on Thomas. "Tom?" he prompted. Thomas sighed. "I was made to do the tour but they organized it so I could fly home between appearances. I don't normally leave Grafton." "Ever?" Eric asked. "Ever." "Why not?" It was Wayward's turn to question him. "Because this is the only place where I have some control over my life." Thomas looked a heartbeat away from tears and Eric prayed that he could keep it together long enough to finish the questioning.

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"Who drives you round?" Eric asked another question. "Me," Thomas said promptly, "No one else ever drives me. I stopped letting people drive me the second I got my license." "Why?" "For fuck's sake, 'Ric, you know why!" Thomas snapped. "Because the last time you fell asleep in a car, a girl died." Eric looked over at Wayward. "You see? I'm not saying he's suffered more than your family but I am telling you he was affected as well. And there's something else." "No!" Thomas stood up, pushing Eric away. "This is pointless. Just shut the fuck up!" He glared at Eric, his expression hurt and angry. For a moment they both forgot the danger present. "What else were you going to say?" Wayward's British accent cut sharply across the tension between the two men. They looked up to see him, an expression Eric couldn't recognize on Wayward's face. The gun though, was still firmly pointed at Thomas. Eric swallowed as he looked down the muzzle of the gun. When the bullet erupted from the muzzle of this weapon there would be no one calling 'Cut' or donuts and coffee to follow. One of them would be dead or injured. He 195 

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was going to die at the hands of a madman during his vacation. The irony was overwhelming. "Well?" Wayward said impatiently. Pointing to the pile of books on the shelf, Eric said, "Top book, by Ross Smith. Have you read any of them?" "All of them," admitted Wayward. "They were in the prison library." "Then you know the Shane Cole books were about a man seeking justice for the death of his sister." Wayward nodded, his eyes lighting up. "It kept me going, made me think how I could get justice for Laura." Thomas snorted. "So I wrote my own death warrant?" Eric scowled at him for the interruption, although he appreciated the irony. "He wrote about his own feelings at how your family was treated, and more than that, he did something positive to help. Look inside the front cover. Opening the book, Wayward read the words and looked up at them both. "I had no fucking idea." "I had no other way of doing something other than donating money to organizations trying to help families like yours. It was a small thing, but once I started I didn't want to stop." Thomas told him.

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"Ross Smith donates money from every book he sells. His donations helped fund some of the campaigns regarding road traffic deaths." For a minute Eric thought it had worked, thought his arguments were enough to convince Wayward. The man was staring down at the book, chewing on his lip as he thought about what he'd learned. Then, just as a small ray of hope began to form in Eric's heart, his face changed and the cold sneer was back. It wasn't enough, was it? All the man really wanted was blood, and Thomas was expendable. Wayward opened his mouth to say something, but Eric stepped forward. The man flinched and Eric knew that despite the gun, Wayward was afraid of Eric's size. He must have been nearly a foot taller than him. Even Thomas topped him by at least six inches. "Stay back!" Wayward ordered harshly, pointing the gun at Eric. Stepping in front of Thomas, Eric ignored the "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" from behind him. He raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture. "Look, I know you're angry that John Hayden didn't go to jail for life for Laura's death or even have the guts to apologize, but Thomas wasn't the driver, he was just was a kid asleep in the car and he's spent years trying to help families like yours. You kill him and that support stops. 197 

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Think of your parents; killing both of us just means your parents lose both kids instead of one. "No one paid!" Wayward spat out. "Mum and Dad spent years trying to increase his sentence and no one listened, no one cared." "John Hayden died early and I've told you about Thomas. He cares. He makes a difference." Thomas stepped around the shield of Eric's body. "I've had enough. Just shoot me and get it over with. Jesus Christ, if it means you feel justice has been done then that's enough. Get on with it." "Tom!" Eric pulled at his arm but Thomas remained firm. "No 'Ric, if the man has to spill blood, let him finish the damn job." Thomas stood away from Eric and held his arms out to the sides. "This is not the time to be a fucking martyr." Eric shouted at his lover. "And you trying to play a caring/sharing Sky Davies is different, how?" Touché. At a stand-off, they glared at each other. "Jesus, are you two bloody daft? You're arguing who gets the first bullet? Christ, I knew Yanks were morons but I never expected to see it."

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"Says the idiot wanting to kill an innocent man. Son, drop the gun." If he'd still been a churchgoing man, Eric would have dropped to his knees and thanked God for the sight of Ted and Mark in the doorway, their weapons aimed unwaveringly at Simon Wayward. The Englishman took one look at both weapons and dropped his gun. Ted moved forward to kick it to one side and cuff the man. When he was secured, Mark moved forward to pick up and empty the gun. "You boys all right?” Mark asked, not taking his eyes off his target. "We're fine," Thomas said, "How the hell did you get in here?" "We were here all the time. Your door that was unlocked, remember? We just couldn't work out how to get to you before Wayward got in a potshot." Thomas stared at the policemen. "It took you that long to work it out?" he asked incredulously. Ted shook his head. "He was in sight of the doorway. We needed him to move a little. Back-up wasn't going to be here for hours so we decided to lay low and not provoke him into using the gun. We got a confession about the fire and Wayward got to hear some things that needed to be said. So did you, Thomas." He gave him a hard look. 199 

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"Like how you've been moping here for far too long and need to get your ass back into the world." Catching sight of the outraged expression on Thomas' face, Eric gave a satisfied snort, earning himself a glare from the man. "So, what now?" Eric asked, nodding at Simon Wayward who was being propelled out of the door by Ted. "He's going away for a long time. We can get him for attempted murder and a whole host of other stuff." Mark looked at Eric quizzically. "You look like you feel sorry for the guy. He tried to kill you twice remember? There's no way Wayward can claim this was a spur of the moment thing." "He lost his sister, Mark," Thomas pointed out, moving to Eric's side. He seemed to have gotten over his huff. "And he just wanted justice for her. He didn't turn bad, he was pushed." "He got justice through the law. Now, don't you go feeling sorry for him. Eric was damn lucky to survive that fire, and if he hadn't been here tonight things might have gone very differently for you, Thomas." Taking Eric by surprise, Mark stuck out his hand. "Thank you," he said, looking Eric straight in the eye, "You're good for Tom. Anyone can see that."

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Eric clasped his hand and shook it, the unspoken communication settling the tension existing between them. "You're welcome," he said simply. Mark reached forward and hugged Thomas. Eric caught Thomas' eyes, wide and surprised, as he tentatively returned the hug. As the policemen stepped back he said, "We'll need you down at the station tomorrow morning. But tonight, go fuck each other senseless and then get some sleep." He grinned at the astonished looks on their faces. "You mean, you're not going to do that?" Thomas pointed at the door. "Don't you have somewhere better to be? Like with your husband?" Eric's jaw hit the floor. Mark was married to a man? But Thomas had said he was a good straight boy. And what about Ted? Although Ted seemed very relaxed about him and Thomas; perhaps he'd mellowed over the years. "Perhaps we could double date one night?" Mark suggested as he left the room. "Why the hell didn't you tell me he was married to a man?" Eric turned on Thomas as soon as he had gone. Thomas looked confused. "Not sure. I guess we were talking about the past, not now." "It explains why Ted was so relaxed about us."

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"Oh yeah. He's a lot more chilled since Mark told him to stop shoving girls in his face and hooked up with Brian instead. Brian's a good guy, you'll like him. Perhaps now you can stop feeling so possessive." Eric tried to look innocent but judging by the look on Thomas' face, he was failing. They were interrupted by the sound of scrabbling claws as two dogs hurled themselves into the room, jumping at the two men, barking joyfully. "Hey, kids." Eric immediately knelt down so his dogs could crawl all over him, thrilled when Thomas got down on the floor, too, and for ten minutes they played rough and tumble on the floor by way of an apology for shutting Toby and Millie out. In the end they all lay panting on the floor in a puppy-pile, the dogs half over each other and half over the two men. Turning his face, Eric found himself almost in touching distance of Thomas' mouth. As he watched, Thomas' tongue flickered out and moistened his lips and then they were touching, the dogs shifting unwillingly as they reached out for each other. He didn't know who made the first move. It wasn't important. All that was important was that they were connected, so fucking connected it was unreal. Hands, lips, skin; Thomas needing to be penetrated, Eric needing to clutch and hold tightly enough to bruise. 202 

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Pale skin against tanned, pressed blood-warm and sweat slick to each other. Afterwards, there was the relief of lying in each other's arms, exchanging lazy, sloppy kisses as their breathing returned to normal "I could have lost you," Thomas murmured in his ear. "If he'd shot you it would have been my fault. The fire…" Eric turned on his side to face Thomas, one large hand splayed possessively on his hip, fingers covering the finger marks already there, 'mine'. "I'm here, I'm yours, forever," he whispered before he leaned forward and bit a mark over Thomas' nipple, enough to sting, enough for Thomas to know he had been claimed. "I am yours." Thomas kissed Eric's hand, his knuckles, his fingers, a kiss pressed into his palm so sweet it brought tears to Eric's eyes. It wasn't going to be easy, coaxing Thomas back into the world, and Eric still had to deal with the effect of his new relationship on his career; but tonight had made him realize he wasn't letting go of the one thing that really mattered, come outraged public or gun-toting madman. Thomas settled into his side with a comfortable sound of happy possession. They would have to move off

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the floor sooner or later but for now it was the only place Eric wanted to be.

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Chapter 7 Eric arrived in Grafton late one Friday night. He was tired and his muscles ached from the long drive sitting in one position. This time he didn't miss the turn to the lake but purposely drove past it to Cowboy Bob's. He had a need for a cool beer and some good conversation, followed by a long night of loving with his man. The parking lot was full and with a sinking feeling Eric realized it was karaoke night. The conversation was going to be out of the window anyway. He just hoped there weren't going to be too many liquor-fueled idiots trying to take on Sky Davies. He doubted Bob would take kindly to his bar being wrecked Eric's first night back in six months. Bob had only just finished the repairs from the last brawl. Why did alcohol bring out the Rambo in people? Sliding into the last parking space left, Eric searched eagerly for Thomas' SUV. It wasn't in sight and he was disappointed. Thomas had called him earlier that day to make arrangements to meet him at Bob's. Eric was late, but not much later than they'd agreed. Maybe he'd given up and gone home. As he walked into the bar he was getting his phone out to check to see if he'd missed a text. Nothing. 205 

Chance to be King

by Sue Brown

"Hey, Eric. Great to see you again, man." Eric looked up to see Pete and Diane leaving the bar. He smiled at them and waved. They smiled at him, although Diane looked wan and not her usual ebullient self. "Busy in there tonight?" he asked as he shook Pete's hand. Pete pulled a face. "Full of little girls thinking they can sing like Mariah. Diane's got a headache; otherwise we'd be staying for the…" "Act." Diane said hastily. "Bob's got a singer in later." Confused, Eric looked at her for clarification. Bob didn't normally have acts on karaoke night. There were usually enough wannabes willing able to make idiots of themselves without outside help. She shrugged, wincing as the movement hurt her head. "Someone asked him if they could sing a few numbers tonight." "And he said yes? He must be going soft." Eric watched as Diane shared a smile with Pete. "Special case, I think." "Okay, well I'd better get in there. There's a beer in there with my name on it." He gave Diane a kiss on the cheek and said goodbye to them both.

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The bar was packed. He was assaulted by the smell of sweat mingled with beer and the sound of someone who couldn't sing belting out 'Bat Out Of Hell'. Eric smiled. Why was it always that song? There was no way he was going to be pushed up there. Hopefully he could get a couple of beers and then Thomas would take him home and fuck him into the mattress. Keeping an eye out for Thomas, Eric pushed through the crowd towards the bar. He caught Bob's eye as he reached it. "Evening, Eric. Been expecting you to show up." Without asking, Bob cracked a bottle open and set it in front of the weary traveler. Eric sighed happily as he took a long swallow of the chilled liquid. "I've been waiting for this for the past two hundred miles." He was disappointed not to find Thomas here waiting for him. "Uh, have you seen Thomas?" Bob nodded as he served another customer. "He's been here." "Has he gone already?" Eric looked at his watch. "I'm not that late. Guess he thought I wasn't going to show." "Your boy's been waiting for you. And driving the rest of us insane." Eric just stared at him, "My…? You know as well?" 207 

Chance to be King

by Sue Brown

"I'm not blind, or stupid." Bob gave Eric a look which clearly implied he might be. "And neither of you have been exactly subtle. You were caught in the middle of the lake by Diane, for Heaven's sake. You might just as well have taken out a billboard. 'Sides, Thomas' been like a kid who lost his favorite teddy bear the last coupla months." A stupidly soft grin spread across Eric's face before he could stop it. "Precisely," Bob commented. He was already opening another bottle as Eric emptied the first. "No driving if you're drinking like this." Eric wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gave him a nod. He put the fresh bottle to his lips, then paused. "You sure it's okay?" For all Bob's dismissive attitude he was very protective of Thomas. They all were, Eric realized, and for some reason he really wanted Bob's approval. "You do right by him and I'll let you keep your balls. You hurt him…" Bob left the rest of the threat unspoken but Eric nodded. He understood. "I won't… and thanks," Eric finished the second beer, shaking his head at the offer of a third. He didn't want to be drunk when he met his boy. "I wish I knew where Thomas was," he worried, half to himself. 208 

Chance to be King

by Sue Brown

Bob laughed. "That's an easy one. He's waiting for you to notice him." "Wh—what? Where is he?" Eric looked around, startled. "Up there," Bob said, pointing at the stage. Eric spun round so fast the beer-fuzziness of his brain took a few seconds to catch up. "What's he doing up there?" he said stupidly as he saw his man loitering to one side of the stage. Eric knew Thomas hadn't spotted him yet because he was staring into space and chewing hard on his nails. He was dressed in a tight black t-shirt and jeans that made Eric's mouth water. He could almost hear the eyes rolling around in his sockets as Bob said patiently, "He's been waiting for you to show up so he can sing. So do you think you could get over there and say hello so he can get started?" "Thomas… singing… out loud… in public?" stuttered Eric stupidly. "Beejezzus… you're worse than he was. Yes, Eric, Thomas wants to sing in public for you." Eric's brain hadn't really caught up with the program yet. "But he doesn't… won't…" "Took someone special, I guess,"

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Chance to be King

by Sue Brown

Eric wasn't really listening because he saw the exact point when Thomas spotted him; color flooded his lover's cheeks and a huge smile spread across his face. "As I said, subtle much?" Bob huffed. "Now wave hello and stand back and enjoy." Eric mouthed "Hi," at his boyfriend and waited to see what would happen next. Thomas appeared to be waiting for a pretty girl to finish her drunken rendition of 'Stand By Your Man.' Eric was more than happy to stand by his, thank you very much. As the song drew to a close the girl took a bow or rather she swayed, almost falling over in the process. She got some whoops and claps which seemed to please her, although Eric wasn't sure whether they were for her performance or the view of her very pretty bust, tumbling out of the skin-tight top. Thomas helped the girl off the stage as she stumbled, and then approached the microphone. Suddenly there was a hush in the bar. Someone, a girl, started talking loudly and was shushed by her companion. The hush seemed to embarrass Thomas even further and the color in this face ran high, making his freckles stand out even further. "Uh, I'm going to sing an old song… most of you won't know it… just bear with me," he said to the crowd but his eyes were on Eric as he spoke. To Eric's 210 

Chance to be King

by Sue Brown

amazement, Thomas walked over and picked up a guitar from the side of the stage. The audience starting clapping and hollering as he came back to the mike. Thomas slung the strap over his head and looked at the audience. Eric tensed up immediately, waiting for him to freeze with fear. Only this wasn't like last time he asked Thomas to sing for him. This time he was smiling at the audience, his eyes sweeping around until they rested on Eric; happy and confident. Only by the slight tremor of the guitar did he show his nervousness. Eric pushed up from the bar and walked over to stand in front of the stage. If his boy was brave enough to sing publicly, he was going to support him publicly. "Isn't that Sky Davies?" There was a loud stage whisper behind him. Eric gritted his teeth and waited. "Sky Davies?" Eric nearly choked. Thomas was answering? "What, him?" he said, pointing at Eric. "Nah, this isn't Sky. Sky Davies is way taller than this dude." As the locals dissolved into laughter, much to the bewilderment of the girl who'd originally asked the question, Thomas started singing— and suddenly no-one cared who Eric was or wasn't because all eyes, all attention, focused on the man in front of them. 211 

Chance to be King

by Sue Brown

Just like before, Eric watched his man with a burning lump in his throat. He was a good writer, a damn good one, but when he was singing he was transformed. By the end of three numbers the small audience was eating out of his hand and Thomas was feeding off their reaction. Any last sign of nerves had disappeared as he wowed an audience for the first time in years. There was a trickle of sweat running down his temple. It fascinated Eric and he wanted to yank him down and lick it off. At that point he caught Thomas' eye. A slight lick of the lips and a sudden warm look in his eyes; 'later' he was promised. At the end of the fourth song Thomas paused and smiled at his audience. "I promised Bob I wouldn't take up the whole evening so I have one last song for you," He held up his hands against the disappointed groans, "This is dedicated to one person. I hope that he— you enjoy it." The catcalls and whistling put paid to any lingering idea Eric had that the locals didn't know about them. That ship sailed long ago, Eric realized, as people slapped him on the back and cheered them on. That ship sailed faster when Thomas' voice dropped even lower than normal and he starting singing a slow song, one so intimate it would have been obvious to a blind man that Thomas was singing it to one person only. 212 

Chance to be King

by Sue Brown

The rest of the bar, the customers; they vanished as Eric listened to the words of the song Thomas composed for him. Thomas had put down the guitar and was singing with his hands wrapped around the microphone stand as if he were holding his lover. His large eyes were fixed on Eric as he softly sang the words of love he normally found so difficult to say, with nothing but the sound of his voice and his love as musical accompaniment. His voice trailed away at the close of the song and there was total silence, the whole bar waiting for one thing. Thomas hadn't noticed; he was waiting for just one reaction, and Eric was frozen to the spot. Uncertainty crept into Thomas' eyes. "Well, kiss him, you stupid idiot," Bob said bluntly, breaking the silence. "The boy is thinking you don't love him anymore." There was a nervous chuckle around the room but it seemed to break the restraints on Eric's legs. He walked the two paces forward and leapt onto the stage. Thomas stepped back only to be caught by one arm and hauled against Eric's chest. Eric stared down into the startled blue eyes. "I'm awed," he whispered, and placed his hand over Thomas', moving it so they rested over his own heart. "Was it…?" Thomas began. 213 

Chance to be King

by Sue Brown

"Perfect." Eric assured him. "It was perfect. Just like you." And then he kissed Thomas. There was a smattering of applause which, as the kiss grew more passionate, broke out into cheering and the stamping of feet. Eric didn't even notice as he finally got to say a proper hello to his lover. Eventually, though, Eric had to break for air. He looked up to see the crowd waiting patiently for them to finish. "Uh, I think your audience is waiting for you," he said, not letting go of the man in his arms. He looked down to see Thomas blushing wildly as the cheering started again. "Do you want to take a bow?" he asked. At Thomas' shake of his head, Eric turned to the crowd. "Sorry to take Thomas away from you but my man and I have some catching up to do, so if you'll excuse us?" He tipped an imaginary hat at the crowd and led Thomas off the stage. They got to the bar to find Bob waiting with two fresh bottles of beer. "You go easy now, okay?" the barman insisted as he pushed the bottles in front of them. Eric nodded, pulling his man ever closer to him. They started drinking, not really talking, just content to be with each other. In the end Eric's impatience began to show and he put his bottle down. Thomas looked up enquiringly but 214 

Chance to be King

by Sue Brown

when he saw the look on Eric's face he knew it was time to leave. They walked out; Eric's arm tightly around his lover, their hips welded together as they left the building. "It is Sky Davies! I'm telling you it is and he's gay!" The woman was shrieking to her companions over the noise in the bar. "Nah, I'm telling ya, it's just 'Ric." someone was saying. Eric and Thomas grinned. Eric made a note to say thank you to Joe next time they were in the bar. In the fresh air they stood staring at each other. "My God, you're really here," Thomas was whispering, as if he couldn't believe his eyes. "You knew I was coming back. We talked today for Heaven's sake." said Eric exasperatedly. "Whatever made you think I wouldn't?" Thomas looked away over Eric's shoulder. He was forced to look into Eric's eyes by a firm hand around his chin. "What made you think I wouldn't be back?" asked Eric firmly, determined to get an answer. "No one should be forced to keep coming back to some screw-up who can't even get out of his own town without panicking," Thomas told him quietly. 215 

Chance to be King

by Sue Brown

"It's a good thing I'm not a no-one then, isn't it?" Eric remarked and he kissed Thomas again; long, passionate kisses to make the man in his arms forget about the past, forget what they were talking about. Forget about everything except the man who loved him.

The End

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About the Author Sue Brown is owned by her dog and two children. When she isn't following their orders, she can be found at university, listening to lecturers talk about long-dead theologians. However in her head Sue is plotting how to get her cowboys together. She just hopes the lecturers don't ask her any questions. She can be found at www.suebrownstories.co.uk where she is happy to discuss anything that doesn't involve school uniform and assignments.