Chance to Be King (3 page)

"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."

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.

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.

 

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 openmouthed 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…"

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 t-shirt 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.

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."

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?" "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.

"'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!"

 

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?"

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 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. "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 bothered by their audience, or Thomas' eye-roll and long-suffering sigh.