Page 47 of Thomas
“I likepreciseadjectives that describe a man in such a way that he deserves.”
Cameron pushed himself up from the floor. “Thomas, the Pursuant of Precision.”
Thomas laughed outright at that. The joyful tremor of it rang from the top of his head and down to his toes. He embraced it, grateful.
“Let’s get you one of my coats for now, anyway,” Cameron went on. “It’ll be like swimming in a sea of material, but you’ll be warmer for it, at least.”
The coat Thomas borrowed made him feel as if he were a child playing dress-up in his father’s clothing. The key difference being the subtle scent the frock held, which was doing funny things to Thomas’s nature and hunger.
Miraculously, while he’d already noticed that he and Cameron were the same height, they also wore the same shoe size. Cameron’s feet were wider than Thomas’s, but mostly, the borrowed boots fit him well.
Or at least he’d thought so. When he stepped out and onto the paved-stone walkway of the gardens, he immediately slipped. He made a humiliatingwhoopsound just as Cameron stopped him from falling flat on his back by catching him firmly by the shoulders.
“Merciful gods!” Thomas heaved as Cameron helped to set him upright.
“Sir Thomas Antony, if you cannot manage to stay erect at the outset, then perhaps we should call this whole adventure off.”
Thomas glanced over at him slyly from the corners of his eyes. “Under normal circumstances, I assure you, I have no problems staying erect, sir.”
Cameron donned his gloves, then paused from the sudden silence. He regarded Thomas with one eyebrow lifted. “What’s thatlook for?”
“Nothing.” Thomas chuckled. “I’m showing my age. Please, lead the way.”
Staying close (in case Thomas failed in his vertical erection, he supposed), Cameron guided him along the snow-laden path and past several rows of encased hedges. The greater forest loomed far along the edges of the open lawn, but a hearty grove of trees was planted just beyond the manicured garden space.
“Are these fruit trees?” Thomas asked, his breath puffing in a cloud as it passed between his lips.
“Yes, pear. They bloom in early summer. Sulee makes all kinds of delicious cuisines from their harvest. Pear jams for charcuterie and baked turnovers for dessert. She did a lovelypear sherbet last year that I still think about at least twice a week.”
“Mm, it sounds divine.” Aside from the soft crunch of snow beneath their feet, the landscape was eerily silent. Thomas paused and stood motionless to take everything in. The crisp coldness of the air on his face and in his lungs felt refreshing. A palate cleanser for the soul. The sky was overcast with clouds billowing in every shade of gray—silver, pewter, charcoal and ash.
A damp drop hit the tip of Thomas’s nose and he raised his chin. Large, wet snowflakes began descending upon the world. Abundant, silent and serene. He was enraptured by it, as if time were standing still.
Soft chirping drew his attention toward one of the skeletal pear trees outlined in a layer of snow. Two bluebirds were nestled and coupled on a branch—a surprise splash of life and color amidst this nearly monochromatic scene.
They took a turn around the side of the estate and to the front so that Thomas could see the lake once more. The snow was falling even heavier by that time, so Cameron suggested they go back inside. Once they were out of their heavy coats and boots, they returned to the upper library, where it was warm and dry. Lennon promised to have two cappuccinos delivered forthwith.
“Now I’m looking forward to pear jam and sherbet in the summer,” Thomas said as Cameron sat himself in the same place on the floor. Thomas stood at the edge of the carpet, hesitating. “Hearing you talk about it makes me hungry.” Which was a refreshing change of pace, honestly. Being hungry. Looking forward to things.
It had been a week since Thomas first fed from Cameron. The moment he had fresh blood in his system, something in Thomas’s mental and physical facilities had shifted. Alleviated? The artificial method of feeding had been impeding himinternally like a shackle around his psyche. It had clouded his perspective and made everything feel heavy, dark and hopeless.
With his generous offer, Cameron had helped to set Thomas just a little bit free from his mental anguish.
Thomas didn’t know how to politely bring the subject about, but he wanted him again. Cameron had assured him that he hadn’t felt obligated, but even still… asking for it was difficult. Thomas had just been wearing the man’s coat and boots, for mercy’s sake. And Cameron had promised to supply a new wardrobe and stipend in the near future.
He felt like a parasite. A tick latched upon poor Cameron’s backside, sucking him dry. Both physically and financially.
“You will love it, I think,” Cameron said, innocently rolling his wide shoulders and stretching his beautiful neck. “The back garden, well, the estate grounds overall are transformative come spring. It’s a shame you arrived here in the dead of winter.”
A light knock at the door distracted Thomas from his shameless gawking. Lennon was there, balancing a tray with two mugs and some other appetizing-looking accoutrements. Strawberries and biscotti.
“Gentlemen,” he said, stepping inside and walking toward the low table. “Here are your drinks. I told Sulee to add some snacks since Sir Thomas is eating so well now.”
“Lennon,” Cameron said in a low warning.
“It is a pleasing thing,” Lennon held, having set the tray down. He put his hands on his hips, fully assessing Thomas. “Your face is fuller, too. You’ve gained a bit of weight.”
“Lennon, please stop.”
