Ghost of a Chance Read online

  Ryan slid around behind James and put both hands on his hips. “Okay.” If James tripped and Ryan had to catch him, James would know exactly how Ryan's body was reacting to all this intimate closeness in the dark. It was all he could do to keep his hands still on that perfect body he'd touched all evening.

  They shuffled down the hallway toward the kitchen. The floor felt much more uneven than it had when there was light, but they made it without further incident to the double kitchen doors. James pushed them open, making sure Ryan got through behind him before they swung shut. “Okay, now here's the tricky part,” he said. He moved toward the cabinets, his hands stretched out in front of him.

  "There's a tricky part? I thought it was all a piece of cake,” he quipped. He kept close behind him, letting James steer them around the kitchen. “Of course, after we find some light we have to actually figure out where the fuse box might be.” Ryan reached out to the counter, and pulled out a drawer, feeling gingerly around inside it. “You know, I thought I did see some candles, too, come to think of it."

  James found the cabinet he was looking for. “Okay. I think it's here. But I have to lean down,” he warned Ryan, bending over and fumbling for the handle to the door. “It's in the lower cabinet. I think."

  Ryan let go of him completely and backed away like he was going to be burnt when James bent over. All he needed was for that perfect ass to press against him and he'd moan out loud. He occupied himself with fumbling around in the drawer for candles. “Be careful,” he warned.

  James laughed as he felt around in the cabinet, kneeling. “Yeah, there could be more ghosts lurking in the cabinets,” he teased. He rummaged around. “I think I found it,” he said excitedly. He was still on his knees on the floor, and the flashlight came on right in his face, blinding him for a moment. “Yes!” he cried triumphantly.

  Ryan squinted at the sudden illumination. “Cool. We should find some candles, too, just in case.” He held out his hand to help James up, and it occurred to him that there was no need to hold onto each other anymore. His smile faded at that thought.

  James let Ryan help him up, and shone the flashlight around. “Okay, you want to look in drawers while I hold the flashlight? Then we can try to find the fuse box.” He glanced down at himself. “And maybe my shirt,” he grinned sheepishly.

  "Yeah,” he said, opening drawers. He found matches easily enough, but then he had an idea. “Ooh, dining room.” He closed the drawers and waited for James to lead the way with the light. Sure enough, there were a number of candlesticks positioned on the buffet. Ryan took one and smiled at James. “Shirt? Or fuses?” he asked. Personally, he would be content for James to go without a shirt all the time.

  "I think shirt first. The fuse box is probably in the cellar or some place equally cold.” He led the way back to the drawing room. He easily found his shirt, and handed the flashlight to Ryan while he pulled it on.

  Feeling the loss of closeness, Ryan scanned up and down James’ body with the flashlight, teasingly. “Oh, you're putting clothes back on. Sorry.” He sighed dramatically, then grinned.

  James poked his head through the neck of the t-shirt and gaped at Ryan. “Maybe after we get the power, and the heat, back on, I'll take it off again,” he teased. He put his arms through and pulled the shirt down.

  Ryan gasped and hit James lightly on the shoulder. “In less than two days I've turned you into a tease. That's not good.” He handed him back the flashlight. “No more toying with me. Let's find the fuse box.” He didn't light the candle yet, since they had the flashlight.

  James grinned at Ryan mischievously. “I've never been accused of being a tease before,” he joked as he led the way to the cellar doors.

  Ryan followed close behind him. James’ little smile was permanently burned into his memory, and he couldn't help smiling himself. In the light from the flashlight, the castle looked incredibly scary. Huge shadows loomed just beyond the pool of light. He slipped his fingers lightly around James’ arm, just above the elbow.

  "I think this is it,” James said, whispering. He unlatched the door and pushed it open. The air emanating was cool and damp, but not unpleasant. The wooden stairs appeared to march into the darkness. “You ready?” he said softly, looking back at Ryan.

  Ryan let go of James’ arm. “It's only stairs,” he said. He didn't want James to think he was a complete wuss, even though he was enjoying the whole protective thing. He followed him down slowly, one at a time. “I hope this doesn't happen a lot."

  James shrugged. “An old house like this, could happen all the time. Though I would have thought the Earl would have had the electricity redone, you know. Since he had all the fancy shit installed.” They reached the bottom of the stairs and found themselves on a rough dirt floor. James moved the flashlight around, looking for what might be a fuse box or breaker box.

  Ryan felt something crawl across his foot, and nearly jumped into the air. He ran into James’ back and flung his arms around him from behind. “Fuck,” he hissed. Almost instantly he relaxed and backed off. “Sorry, I think it was a mouse. Or something.” He shivered, hugging his arms around himself.

  James stifled a grin. “It's fine, feel free to pounce on me without warning again. I'm getting used to it.” He moved slowly along. This was no fancy wine cellar—it looked like no one had been down here in years.

  Ryan sighed. But then something caught his eye. He took hold of James’ wrist holding the flashlight and pointed it towards a box on the wall under the stairs. “Is that it?” he asked. He wasn't just making excuses to touch James. Really.

  "It could be,” James said. They moved closer, and sure enough there was a steel box affixed to the wall that looked much newer than its surroundings. He swept aside the cobwebs and pulled the box open. “Yes!” he said, as he was faced with row upon row of circuit breaker switches. The top one, the main power switch, was obviously tripped.

  "Rad,” Ryan said, flipping the switch. There was a distant humming sound, like the house was coming back to life. There was a faint glow of light spilling down the stairs, probably from the outside lights shining in the kitchen windows. “Much better,” he said, heading back up the stairs, feeling much more confident in his footing even with so little light.

  James lingered for a moment, studying the breakers. “Weird,” he said, finally shutting the metal door and starting after Ryan. “I wonder why that happened anyway. Individual breakers will usually go before the main one. It's like a last ditch thing."

  Ryan paused at the top of the stairs to wait for him. He knew very little about electricity. “Really?” He shrugged. “Maybe a ghost did it,” he said, laughing a little. He could hear the distant crackle of static from the over-sized television in the distance.

  James frowned. “I was kinda thinking that earlier,” he admitted. “Don't tell anyone, though.” He closed the cellar door. “I wonder if you shouldn't have someone out to have a look at it."

  "Yeah. I'll tell Nigel tomorrow. I think he's coming by to give me a full report on the Earldom.” He suppressed a yawn. “I've totally lost all track of the movie. Do you wanna just go to bed?” he suggested. “Maybe we could try it again tomorrow or something."

  James glanced at his watch. “Wow, it's late. Yeah, maybe we should just turn in.” They were back in the drawing room, and James picked up a remote and turned off the huge television, which was now showing snow.

  Ryan bent over and picked up the pillow, tossing it back onto the couch. They headed back upstairs and got ready for bed, taking turns in the washroom. Ryan changed into pajamas and settled himself in the huge pink bed, yawning again. “Good night, James,” he called out.

  "Night, Ryan,” James answered from the next room.

  Ryan fell asleep quickly. Normally, he slept quite soundly, but something made him stir a while later. He felt inexplicably cold. He rolled onto his back and his eyes fluttered open. There, at the foot of his bed was a spectre. A man, staring down at him.

  He
sat bolt upright, and let out a sound of fright, almost jumping out of bed and dashing to the adjoining door. “James,” he whispered loudly.

  James sat upright quickly. “Mmmwhat?” he mumbled. “Ryan? Are you all right?"

  "There's a man in my room.” He looked back over at the bed, but the ghost was gone. “Or there was.” Now that James was awake he spoke at a normal pitch. “He was standing right there, staring at me.” His heart beat a mile a second, and he shook like a leaf.

  "A man?” James jumped up out of the bed and ran past Ryan into the master bedroom. He looked around wildly. “No one could have gotten in, the doors were all locked."

  "I-I think it was a ghost. He was kind of glowing a little, but I could see him as clearly as I can see you!” He hugged his arms around himself. “Could I sleep in your room with you? I can sleep on the floor. You won't even know I'm there."

  James’ mouth dropped open. “You saw a ghost? Like, a real manifestation? Did it do anything? Say anything?"

  "No. He was just standing there glowering at me. I was cold suddenly and I opened my eyes and there he was.” He looked at James, more grateful than ever for his presence.

  James pulled the other man into his arms and held him close. “Of course you can sleep with me,” he whispered into Ryan's hair. “But not on the floor."

  Ryan whimpered a little, and accepted the comfort James offered. “Are you sure? I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything. I don't mind the floor, really.” But it was so warm in James’ arms, and suddenly he felt safe again.

  "You could never make me uncomfortable,” James replied, stroking Ryan's hair soothingly. He stepped back just enough to take Ryan's hand, and led him out of the room and into his. “Come on. There's plenty of room.” He tugged him over to the bed.

  Ryan followed. It was a cruel twist of fate that he'd found the perfect guy and he was straight. Ryan just wanted to curl up in James’ arms and stay there forever. He'd never felt like this with anyone. He gave him a wan smile and slid under the covers on the opposite side from where James had obviously been sleeping. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I really appreciate this."

  "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't protect you from the ghosts?” James joked. “Wake me if you need me, okay?"

  "Okay,” he said, settling into the overstuffed pillow. A friend. Yeah, that's all they were. They'd only met. He was putting expectations on something that was way too fragile to bear the weight. He sighed a little, forcing himself to stop thinking about James and just try to sleep. He rolled over on his side, facing away from the other man. The bed was definitely big enough. There was no need for them to touch or even be near each other. And he was so tired. After a couple of minutes he drifted off again, ghost forgotten.

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  Chapter Four

  Ryan slept more soundly than he had the night before. He wasn't used to sharing a bed with someone else, but he found it was comforting. Slowly, over the course of the night, he moved closer, seeking out the warmth of James’ side of the bed. By the time the first weak rays of pre-dawn started lightening the edges of the curtains, Ryan was up against James’ side, his cheek pressed against his shoulder, his palm flat against James’ bicep.

  It was some time later that Ryan roused. He took a deep breath, nuzzling against the warm skin. He felt compelled to kiss that shoulder, but something in the back of his mind prevented him. His eyes fluttered open slowly, but for a moment it didn't strike him as odd.

  James was looking at him. “Morning,” he smiled.

  Ryan's eyes widened and he swallowed hard. He eased back just a little, but James didn't seem disgusted or upset about the fact that he was nearly molesting him. “Morning,” he whispered. “I didn't keep you awake, did I?” he asked. He wriggled back a little. There were parts of him that he definitely didn't want to touch James just at that moment.

  "Not at all,” James answered. “I slept perfectly. I take it you're a cuddler when you sleep."

  Ryan could feel his face burning. “Uh, I guess. I don't know. I haven't really slept in the same bed with someone in a while.” Like years, he added silently with a sigh. He rolled away, embarrassed, and rubbed his hands over his face. He was lucky that James was so tolerant.

  "It's okay,” James insisted, rolling onto his side to face Ryan. “Please don't be upset. I liked it.” He reached out and put his hand on Ryan's arm.

  "You did?” He looked over at James. This boy was going to drive him completely insane. He gave him a weak smile. “I'm, um, gonna go have a shower. Nigel will probably be here soon.” He gently disentangled himself from James’ touch and slid out of bed, padding back into his own room. He was half-tempted to tell James exactly what he was doing to him, how his sweetness and joking around tormented Ryan. But in the end he decided just to keep quiet. He didn't want to push James away, even if keeping him close was maddening.

  * * * *

  Nigel had let himself in. He headed for the kitchen first, to make himself a cup of tea. He stopped in the doorway of the kitchen when he saw a half-naked young bartender standing there, obviously just out of bed, hair sticking up everywhere.

  He scowled deeply. “Mr. Montgomery, isn't it?"

  James looked up in surprise. “Yeah, hi, um, Nigel. Did we not lock the front door?” He pushed his hair out of his eyes and added, “I'm making coffee. Want some?"

  Nigel arched an eyebrow, pursing his lips primly. “No thank you. I shall just put the kettle on for tea, if you don't mind.” As he filled the kettle from the tap and put it on the burner of the stove, he continued, “Are you taking up residence at the castle? Or just passing through?"

  The coffee was just beginning to brew, and James took out two mugs. He shrugged. “Ryan asked me to stay. I took him around to some shops yesterday so he could get some stuff he needed.” He poured the coffee. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bring Ryan his coffee. I'll tell him you're here. There's no need for you to go sneaking into his room again."

  Nigel sputtered and gaped at James. “I was not.” He shut his mouth abruptly and ground his teeth. “I have only the Earl's best interests at heart. I hardly think it's out of line to inquire about someone he's only just met spending the last two nights here."

  James smirked and picked up the two mugs of coffee. “Maybe you should be asking him, then,” he said mildly, walking past the man and out the door. He walked up the stairs and approached the bathroom. “Hey, Ryan, you out yet? I have coffee."

  * * * *

  Ryan had just finished shaving, and was combing out the ends of his hair. He wrapped a towel around his hips and opened the door. “Yeah. Sorry I took so long,” he said, peering out of the steamy bathroom. “Oh, thanks.” He stepped forward, accepted the mug with a smile, and took a sip.

  James’ gaze flicked down Ryan's body, lingering on his slim hips wrapped in a small towel. “Wow,” he said.

  Ryan looked down at himself, and realized James was saying wow about the rest of his tattoos. “Oh. Yeah,” he said. “They're addictive.” He gave a little shrug and pushed a lock of wet hair back over his shoulder. “Do you need to use the bathroom?” he asked, taking another sip of coffee.

  James blinked and said, “Yeah, but take your time. Oh, and Frostyballs is here again. Let himself in and sneaked up on me in the kitchen. Scared the hell out of me. He seemed surprised to see me still here. I imagine he will interrogate you about it."

  Ryan leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. “Oh. Why should he care if you're here or not?” He didn't think it mattered. Unless ... “You don't think he thinks...” Ryan's eyes widened and he nibbled his bottom lip. “Well, not that it's any of his business, anyway, but I'll make sure he knows it's not...” He blushed and took another sip of his coffee.

  James interrupted. “I don't care what he thinks,” he said pointedly. He looked into Ryan's eyes evenly.

  It really seemed like James liked him. If he wasn't so sure James was straight, he'd a
lmost have hope. “Okay. I guess I should get down there and talk to him.” He pushed off the doorframe and sauntered past where James was standing. “When do you have to work?” he asked. They hadn't really discussed it, but Ryan knew he was going to have to leave at some point.

  James wrinkled his nose. “Three,” he said. “I should leave by half past two.” He began to unbutton his jeans in preparation for taking a shower. “Have fun with Nigel,” he added, grinning.

  Before James disappeared into the bathroom, Ryan turned to him again. “Wait. Are you, um, are you gonna come back here after work?” he asked. Suddenly the prospect of being alone in the castle loomed large before him, along with being out of James’ presence for an extended period of time.

  James stuck his head back out the door. “If you want,” he said, smiling. “I'd like to.” He looked at Ryan again for a long moment, gaze flicking down to the towel again.

  Ryan smiled sweetly at him. “Yeah. I want.” He blushed again and turned back to the business of finding clothes to wear. He got dressed quickly, putting on his new sweater and a pair of black jeans, tying back his wet hair. He took his mug of coffee and went downstairs to see Nigel.

  The solicitor was standing stiffly in the drawing room when Ryan arrived. “My lord,” he said, sketching a small bow. “Good morning. I trust all is well?"

  "Hi, Nigel. Everything's okay, except the power went out last night. And,” he took a sip of his coffee again, “I saw a ghost."

  The man was in the process of sipping his tea and he almost choked. “G-ghosts? My Lord. I hope you don't believe all that nonsense.” He looked a little pale.

  "Well, yeah. I didn't before last night. One pushed me but I didn't see it, and then another one showed up at the foot of my bed while I was sleeping.” He scowled a little. “If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it."

  Nigel set his cup down carefully. “Has that reporter been telling you tales? I shall have a word with the owner of that newspaper."