Chapter Fourteen
Ernest
Ernest was a forward planner. He was detail-oriented, well known among business owners and acquaintances as someone who always mapped things out, strategized. He did all he could to make sure that he was always thinking at least two seasons ahead when it came to running his business and his life.
All of those habits flew right out the window the moment Toby kissed him. One taste of those delicious lips, and Ernest’s brain went blank. The only thing he was thinking by the time Toby had gently pulled away was how soon he could stake his claim on his precious mate.
They had their booking at the bowling alley to get through first. It was fine.
Ernest knew how to play, even though Toby was very sweet about explaining the basics.
Ernest listened purely and simply because he enjoyed hearing Toby talk.
His new mate showed every emotion on his sweet face, and he was so excited about even the simplest of things—an excitement Ernest knew had been missing from his life.
The playing of the game was as bad as Ernest had suspected it would be—and it had nothing to do with his results. He shared his body with an elephant spirit—he was well used to bowling things down, so what better place to do that than a bowling alley.
Heavy balls weren’t an issue—well, the ones in his pants were, but Ernest kept them tucked away.
He simply picked up the bowling ball, strode toward the line, and just before the last step, he would bend, release the ball, and send it barreling down the lane.
He was upright again by the time the pins were hit.
Ernest wasn’t the type to do anything fancy, no matter what he was doing.
But the way Toby reacted to his inevitable strike took excitement to a super-nova level.
Toby would dance, do a sexy shimmy, and as Ernest came back to where they were sitting, Toby was right there, stroking his arm and beaming at him.
Ernest’s biceps had never received so much attention, and it made him feel like a million dollars…
it was also a subtle form of torture that was threatening Ernest’s control. He was about ready to combust.
It was worse for Ernest when it was Toby’s turn.
Toby had style with a capital S. He didn’t walk toward the lane, he had a strutting dance step that showed off his lean legs.
And he didn’t just go to the line and then release the ball—he danced toward it, as if teasing the shot, and then he took a few steps back, sidestepped a couple of paces, and then went in for the shot.
He would bend over, sweeping his arm out from behind him, releasing the ball down the lane.
Toby had a good aim. He was getting almost as many strikes as Ernest was, and even if he missed a few pins, Toby didn’t get upset about it.
He would stand on the line and do a little shimmy dance, clapping his hands in excitement before running back.
It was fun; it was torture, and Ernest was doing his best, but he was fighting inappropriate thoughts every time Toby bent over.
Those tight pants left nothing to the imagination.
As a rule, Ernest didn’t care what people wore.
Everyone was entitled to dress in a way that pleased themselves, and that included Toby with his tight pants.
Toby was his mate. They might not have got to the claiming part, but they had both said the words and recognized that was what they were going to do…
after the date business. Toby looked adorable and sexy, all at the same time.
The issue—and why Ernest was getting decidedly grumpy as he went to take his turn—was that other people clearly thought Toby looked good in those pants too.
He grabbed hold of the ball, making sure to get one with the larger finger hole sizes—his chunky fingers wouldn’t fit into the holes in a regular ball.
Fortunately, the bowling alley was clearly used to shifter types who were built on the extra-large side.
As he went over to the line and bent down to take his shot, Ernest caught sight of a younger man leaning over the back of the seats, chatting to Toby and seeming very friendly. Ernest’s vision went black as his elephant trumpeted a warning in his head. Get that man away from our mate!
Ernest barely got his ball traveling in the right lane.
Before the pins were down, he was making his way back to their seats.
Toby was sweet. He was used to being friendly with people because he worked in retail, and it was just the type of guy his mate was Ernest had discovered. So, of course, he was talking back.
The ball landed with a huge smash at the end of the lane, as pins went flying.
“Oh my goodness, Ernest, that is just incredible! You are so powerful, you almost smashed a hole in the back of the lane!”
I had good reason. Ernest sat down, making sure to put his arm over Toby’s shoulder, letting the interloper know he was not welcome. “Are there many more frames left in this game?”
“Two frames to go, and we’ve only got another 10 minutes. The time flies so fast when we’re having fun,” Toby said with a happy smile. “I’m not sure that I’m going to be able to beat you, though,” he added hopping up and dancing over to where the ball return was waiting.
He picked a smaller ball. Toby’s fingers were strong and slender, and Ernest could imagine…
Gods, just stop. Think about something else. Ernest wanted to bang his head on the nearest solid surface because he wasn’t helping himself. His elephant wanted the claim. Ernest had a few other concerns.
For example, Toby seemed very attached to his new apartment—the one provided by one of his friend’s mate.
Ernest desperately wanted to keep living in his own home.
It was where his business was. But then Toby was living where his business was, too.
Ernest didn’t think he could ever see himself living in an apartment—no matter how cute or new—and he wasn’t quite sure how that side of things was going to go.
Maybe I could buy Toby his own car, he thought. I don’t have an issue with driving him to work every day and picking him up if he doesn’t drive. But then he has already said how close he is to his friends…
Now, Ernest was torturing himself with things they hadn’t had a chance to talk about yet.
And that was the definition of stupid. Except deep inside, since Ernest had taken in Toby’s scent for the first time, he knew all he wanted was for Toby to be in his house, sprawled across his bed, filling the house with his sweet scent so that the place always felt like home.
You’re getting ahead of yourself. He quickly remembered to look up as Toby made his shot.
Yes, that asshole in the lane to the left side of them was still watching, but Ernest kept his eyes on his mate—it was Toby who was important, no one else.
“You did it, babe,” he said, fist pumping the air.
“You got another strike. My, you’re so good at this. ”
“I’m not usually this good,” Toby said, dancing his way back to their seats. “I’m sure it’s because you’re here.” He sat down with a sweet plop and leaned into Ernest’s shoulder.
That was something else Ernest couldn’t ignore. Toby was happy to be with him. The joy was showing over every inch of that gorgeous face—that face that really looked like it needed kissing again, but Ernest wasn’t sure how Toby felt about PDA like that, and he wasn’t about to maul the man.
We’ve still got to eat, he reminded his pushy elephant. We’ve still got to get through the food side of the date that our mate has requested. We can’t just go rutting him over the nearest seat just because we want to stake the claim. His elephant wasn’t so sure why not, and Toby didn’t help.
“Your last go. I wonder if I can do something to distract you from making a perfect strike.” Toby laughed as he did another dance in his seat this time.
Your existence distracts me in the most perfect way.
Ernest didn’t think that sort of declaration was appropriate at a bowling alley either, although he might need advice on that.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d needed to use any romance skills, but Toby deserved them.
I can do this. I can bowl one more frame.
Just get this game over, and then we can eat.
Although Ernest took some comfort in seeing Toby discreetly tugging at his crotch seam as he got up after him to grab another ball.
At least I know my precious mate is having the same problem.
He might not be thinking about housing or our future, but he’s definitely thinking about what’s going to come after the food side of the date.
That couldn’t come quickly enough.
Toby was quiet when they grabbed themselves a plate of food each from the buffet provided, sitting at one of the many plastic tables. Ernest was pleased that Toby was sitting across from him because if Toby had taken a seat next to him, he might have tugged the man onto his lap.
“Did you enjoy the bowling?” he asked, remembering he was meant to be making a good impression.
“It is fun going out and doing different things, isn’t it?” Toby nodded.
Ernest nodded. He had a mouthful of food by this point, so it’s not like he could be expected to reply.
“I always had a thing with other people, like a rule, I suppose you could call it.” Toby seemed almost hesitant.
Ernest nodded, raising his eyebrows to hopefully encourage Toby to keep going.
“I’ve always stuck to my three-date minimum rule… you know, before I took a person back to my apartment,” Toby added, blushing.
Ernest froze mid-chew.
“Niall used to tease me like crazy about it, although Morty seemed to understand—his dates were always disastrous before he met Hector, but I have always believed that just because a man bought me dinner or took me to a club that didn’t mean they could expect me to sleep with them afterwards.”
Swallowing around the lump of food still in his mouth, Ernest coughed and said, “No one should ever assume that. You’re exactly right to set your own rules and standards.” Inside, Ernest was thinking, has he changed his mind about the sexy stuff?
“That’s why I thought bowling was such a good idea.
” Toby nodded, seemingly pleased with Ernest’s response.
“From the moment I saw you, all I wanted was to climb all over your body and see what it looks like without clothes. That’s why the bowling was perfect, because playing the game was one date, eating the food was another. ”
Ernest held his breath… his brain thankfully blank. His eyes didn’t leave Toby’s face.
Pushing his plate aside, Toby rested his elbows on the table and smiled. “I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.”
Ernest quickly chomped down his last mouthful and pushed his plate aside, too, swallowing hard. The last thing Ernest wanted was for a crumb to get stuck in his throat. “Does that mean we need to go on another date with food?” he asked, keeping his tone low.
I’ll accept it, he was thinking. If that’s what my Toby wants, I’ll accept it. He might have to shift and knock down a few trees or something after he’d dropped Toby off home—just to get rid of his excess energy—but he would do it.
Only Toby was shaking his head. “We met and sort of had a date, even if it was a visit to the ER—sort of. You’ve taken me out bowling and you’ve taken me out for a meal. Now I think I’m ready to go home… with you… for the next part of our third date.”
Thank the blessed Fates. Ernest reached over the table, grabbed Toby’s hand and almost yanked him out of the chair before heading for the exit. He was really pleased to see that Toby was sprinting alongside him and even beat him to the door. It seemed they were both on the same page.