“Oh, I somehow doubt that, lieutenant,” It was rare for Thomas to subscribe to formality for any reason other than to draw a point – and this was perhaps a perfect example of a moment in which he weaponized formality for his own purposes. He understood that James was teetering on the edge of something profound, and eager as he was to draw him in, there would be no victory until the man himself chose his method of defeat.
It had been thrilling, of course, to hear of the brawl enacted in Miranda’s name – an act of defiance in the highest order, of that Thomas had no doubt. But it was one thing to defend a woman so outrageously, and quite another to acknowledge internally whether or not her husband had also been cause for such violence – not to mention why.
It took incredible restraint in that moment not to reach out and push, to shove James into this life and let him experience a taste of true passion for once in his high collared existence, but Thomas would not be the man’s excuse should fear grip him or shame cripple his fighting spirit. If he made this choice it had to be for himself and for something far greater than mere lust, or it would be all too easy to abandon in favor of a simpler existence.
“Nevertheless,” He could not leave the poor man twisting in the wind too long, for fear of losing what they did have. Whether James pressed all the way or not, what they held now was deeply valued in its own right. “I do thank you, on Miranda’s behalf – as I’m rather certain she’s set to scold you within an inch of your life.”
Here, he could not help but smile – as much as he pitied the man the dressing down he was sure to receive, Thomas would not deny for a second how much he adored it when Miranda let her cool demeanor fall away in favor of the most vicious verbal lashings he’d ever seen. It was truly captivating to behold, and it would be a lie to pretend he wasn’t at least a little excited by the drama of it all.
Ocean Archive 