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 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.
"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. Take-out 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.
"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."
"You're actually spelling it out?" Thomas asked in astonishment.
Eric rolled his eyes at the other man. "They're
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 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.
"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. Take-out 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.
"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."
"You're actually spelling it out?" Thomas asked in astonishment.
Eric rolled his eyes at the other man. "They're
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