His Groom

By Hollis Shiloh

Quiet, anxious inventor Tom has a crush on his friend, Rudy, but he never expects to do anything about it. Rudy's racing career is the love of his life—except perhaps for his complicated, secret feelings about Tom—but professional racing in the 22nd century is proving to be a dangerous place. With his life at risk, Tom's mother suggests something that will give him a bit of clout and protection: marry Tom, take on the family name.

 

Neither man is eager to risk the sort of heartbreak that might entail. But, well, Tom would do anything to protect Rudy's life, and this may be what it takes. And, really, what could go wrong, as long as he keeps his feelings to himself?

 

28,000 words – low heat

• Language: English
• Publisher: Spare Words Press
• Release date: Oct 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223358008

Book preview

Table of Contents

His Groom

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

chapter eight

chapter nine

Story copyright October 2023 by Hollis Shiloh.  All rights reserved.  Do not reproduce without written permission from the author.  All characters and events are fictitious, and any similarity to real people or events is coincidental.  Image content is being used for illustrative purposes only and any people depicted in the content are models. 

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His Groom

by Hollis Shiloh

About the story:

Quiet, anxious inventor Tom has a crush on his friend, Rudy, but he never expects to do anything about it.  Rudy's racing career is the love of his life—except perhaps for his complicated, secret feelings about Tom—but professional racing in the 22nd century is proving to be a dangerous place.  With his life at risk, Tom's mother suggests something that will give him a bit of clout and protection: marry Tom, take on the family name. 

Neither man is eager to risk the sort of heartbreak that might entail.  But, well, Tom would do anything to protect Rudy's life, and this may be what it takes.  And, really, what could go wrong, as long as he keeps his feelings to himself?

28,000 words – low heat

––––––––

His Groom

by Hollis Shiloh

chapter one

Tom

Just a moment, just a moment, said Tom March, fumbling to wipe engine grease off his hands.  He always got clumsier if he felt nervous or rushed.  Surely whoever was at the door wouldn't mean to rush him now, but it didn't take much sometimes.  There was a reason his friends called him a slowpoke; there was a reason he preferred to live as quietly as possible.

The bell jangled again, and he twitched, and almost stumbled, rounding the workbench.  He finally made it out of his inventing room and started at a run down the hall and towards the front door. 

He reached the large oak door with its stained glass window, heart pounding, just as he recognized the face pressed up against the window and the voice shouting, muffled, through the door, It's just me, March!  No need to run!

But then he wasn't sorry he'd rushed, because it was Rudy, Rudy Wilkins, his dearest Rudy.

Rudy, come on in, he said, with a grin he meant, as he pulled the door open.  Seeing Rudy made any day better.  It just did, even when by rights it oughtn't to.

Thank you, I will.  Rudy stepped over the threshold, standing as tall as he could, which wasn't very, and giving Tom a regal head bob and a sweet, cheeky grin.  He was mocking Tom and his posh manners, but he didn't mean anything by it.  Rudy was a sweetheart, really. 

Well.  Except when he was getting into fights with people who dared to imply he was short (even though he was), or starting fights he had no chance of winning, simply on the principle of the matter (or because he'd had too much to drink and was feeling fighty).  But he was always perfectly lovely, to Tom's point of view, and that told you something about both of them, far more than he would ever want anyone to even guess at.

Tom, said Rudy, moving forward and catching him impulsively in a hug, pressing his face against Tom's chest, holding onto him as if for the first time he could breathe, really breathe.  He was smiling, smiling.  When he drew back, he brushed his hair back out of his eyes and squinted up at Tom.  Sorry.  Forgot you don't like hugs.

That's quite all right, said Tom, only a little stiffly, as he edged aside, past Rudy, to shut the door.  Anyone could have seen.  Would they have noticed the way he froze?  He never meant to freeze, but he hadn't been hugged when he was young and it was hard to get used to it now.  Nobody ever hugged him except Rudy nowadays.  One person hugging him shouldn't be much to adjust to.

Come in properly and let's have something to eat or drink, suggested Tom, calming down now that the man he rather more than admired was no longer touching him, or staring up into his face and knowing him far too well. 

Everything I feel can't possibly show on my face or he'd know, wouldn't he?

I made the cut for the race, said Rudy, launching right into it.  I wanted to tell you in person, since I'm living close now.  I've rented a room and everything.  I'll need to be nearby to practice, you know.

His grin was incandescent with pride and pure happiness. 

Good for you, Wilkins!  Tom's congratulations were from the heart and without any tinge of jealousy.  Tom had many interests, and he loved spaceships as much as anyone, but he would never want to be a racing flyer like Rudy longed to be.  Now, apparently, he was actually making the transition.  To go from a hobbyist racer to his first semi-pro race, and at his age (nearly thirty) was quite the accomplishment.  Most of them were born and bred to it, some quite literally, and if they weren't winning ribbons by their late teens, could be pretty much counted out.  Rudy might look young, but he'd had his last growth spurt over a decade ago and would definitely, although a newcomer, never be considered young in this sport.

But, he was deeply in love with the sport and had wanted to take part in it for as long as Tom had known him (which was rather a long time).  They had been friends since they'd met at a car show, fell to talking, and steadily became better friends over a drink or an engine (taking it apart, or putting it together). 

Rudy had small, careful hands, and was quite good with engines.  It was always nice to have a helping hand for one of Tom's projects, and he'd quite enjoyed helping Rudy get a few of his wrecks into shape enough for the amateur races as well. 

All in all, it was good fun spending time together.  If only Tom could have kept his poor pathetic heart from getting a crush on the man.  Really, couldn't he be sensible for five minutes?  There were people who would be quite glad to settle for Tom; he should, if he wanted anyone, concentrate on them.  But it was not as easy as that, as being sensible and falling for someone who could feel the same way.  Rudy had never showed any signs of returning the interest Tom had developed.  It was really rather pathetic, at his age.  He was only three years older than Rudy, but sometimes it felt like he was decades older, had been born old and odd and would never fit in anywhere.

Tom felt a bit silly, but he forgot it soon enough as he and Rudy walked to the kitchen together, Rudy chatting all the while, talking at almost double speed.  He had so much catching up to do with Tom.  Tom let the words wash over him, admiring the light in Rudy's eyes, the animation on his face, and the way he used his hands so much when he talked.

Tom set about putting on the kettle and digging up some small cakes from the fridge, still listening to Rudy's restless, excited words, and replying as needed from time to time.  Ninety percent of the conversation came from Rudy, yet this was an acceptable ratio for Tom, who had missed him and was glad to hear all his news.

And then they decided to sponsor me, he finished triumphantly.  And I hired a room the next day and headed right over there, and then here.  I've just unpacked, so I wanted to come over and let you know.

Tom gave him a smile, small and hopeful.  So I'll see you a bit more often, then? he ventured.

Rudy's face fell a bit, and for the first time, an expression of reserve crossed his face.  Well.  I don't know, you see.  He shifted awkwardly on his kitchen seat.  Then, focusing on the cakes, he chose one with his small, careful hands, and took a bite, perhaps to gain some time for that conversation. 

Tom felt ridiculously disappointed.  It wasn't fair that Rudy was finally going