Chance to Be King (4 page)

"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.

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."

 

"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 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.

* * * *

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. 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.

"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.
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 t-shirt, 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 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 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."

"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?

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."

"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.