BEAU HAD been second-guessing himself for three days. He’d always been taught not to be rude, but he had truly gotten a glimpse… or at least heard one… of the Beast that night. There had been no care or consideration in his voice whatsoever.
“Honey, I tried to warn you.” Angie patted his hand lightly.
Beau was grateful for her sincerity, since it must have taken extra effort for her not to do some sort of I-told-you-so dance. “I know you did.” He just couldn’t seem to put things together in his mind.
“Then what’s wrong?” Angie pressed.
The truth was, he couldn’t get Dante out of his head. He kept seeing him as he showed him through the largely empty house, gentle, smiling, even laughing occasionally. “I was so rude….” Beau had also blown any chance he had for securing Dante’s help to expand the services the Center could offer—completely blown it.
“You just left. That’s so unlike you.” Angie leaned forward, and Beau followed her gaze toward a noise in the hallway.
“I know. I kind of freaked out a little. The way he talked to those people by the front of his house was so harsh, and…. All I kept thinking was that I was seeing the Beast that everyone keeps talking about, and it was not pretty at all.”
“Just stay away from the guy and have as little to do with him as possible. We’re all better off if we can survive without him or his money. People in this town have come to rely on it too much, and now they complain about him, but they can’t do a dang thing about it. They need him.”
Beau nodded slowly. “But he needs everyone else too, and I don’t think he knows it.”
Angie shook her head. “You know what’s going on here? You’re too damn nice. You see him as one of the people here that you can help, but you can’t. You know that, because he doesn’t want to be helped. You always say that we can’t do anything with someone who doesn’t want our help, and the Beast definitely doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with him.”
The fire of righteous condemnation burned brightly in her eyes, but Beau knew she wasn’t completely right. Dante had admitted to him that night at dinner that there was something wrong. He was carrying around a mountain full of guilt over something, and Beau suspected it was his wife’s death. But Dante wasn’t going to talk about it, and there was no one to ask about what had happened. So Angie was correct—there was nothing Beau could do to help unless Dante came to trust him enough to confide in Beau with what happened. But after the way Beau left the other night, he’d blown that chance out of the water.
“Why is this bothering you so much?” Angie asked, raising her eyebrows slightly. “You don’t have some sort of crush on him, do you?”
“I don’t think so.” Beau wasn’t sure what his feelings were toward Dante Bartholomew. He intrigued him and he was certainly good-looking enough… in every way Beau had seen.
Angie humphed. “That’s an interesting answer. Do you want to explain?”
Beau smiled wickedly. “No, I don’t.” Dammit, he was blushing and he hated that. He couldn’t seem to get Dante out of his head, even after Dante’s behavior had left him cold. “I’m confused, okay? And I hate being all mixed up.” Beau smiled. “When we were having dinner, there was this moment when he forgot himself. I don’t even think he realized it at the time, but the tiny lines around his eyes disappeared and his lips were soft and there was this light in his eyes. Dante laughed, and in that second, I thought I might be seeing the real person under the hurt, pain, responsibility, and God knows what else he’s carrying around, and I want to see more of that person. Then I saw him with those protestors, throwing his weight around and—”
“You thought you’d imagined everything, and the real person was the Beast throwing his weight around?”
Man, she could hit the nail on the head.
“I don’t want him to be that person.” Beau turned and walked away from Angie’s desk. He had a pile of work waiting for him on his desk, and it wasn’t going to do him any good to vacillate over Dante. He’d really blown that opportunity.
HE SPENT the next two hours knee-deep in his paperwork, trying to catch up. Beau tended to let it pile up because he hated it and would rather spend time with the people who came to him for help. That was what he loved. But he needed to do the paperwork that would allow him to do what he enjoyed.
“Beau,” Angie said, half breathless. “The Beast is out front asking for you. He says he wants to talk to you.” She cocked her lips in a slightly off-kilter way. “He’s carrying flowers.” She snickered and rolled her eyes. “Is that just too cheesy for words?”
Beau sighed. “Not everyone wants their men to say they care with a visit to the gun club.” He winked, and Angie crossed her arms over her chest.
“I knew I was going to regret telling you about that date.”
Beau stood. “Hey, you had a good time, and that’s all that counts. And the fact that you outshot him was completely priceless.” He glanced down at the work he had yet to finish and groaned softly. “Tell Dante I’ll be out in a few minutes.” He sat back down to finish reviewing a grant application before giving it his approval and then went to see what Dante wanted from him.
Angie sat at her desk, typing and watching Dante at the same time. It was weird how she could work and watch him at the same time… until Beau peered at her screen and saw the gibberish she was typing. He kept her secret as he walked by.
“Can I help you, Dante?” Beau was proud of himself for keeping things professional and his eyes on Dante’s instead of raking them down to his tight jeans.
“Is there somewhere we can talk? Privately.”
“My office is right down the hall.” He motioned, and Dante followed him inside the tiny space. It was utilitarian and nothing like the office Dante had at his house. Beau closed the door and sat in the second visitor’s chair, waiting for Dante, who seemed to be searching for his words.
“I never explain anything to anyone,” Dante pronounced as he handed Beau the flowers. “Explanations are too close to excuses, and my father drilled into me that excuses were unacceptable and apologizing is a sign of weakness.”
“You know that’s bullshit… right?” Beau smelled the flowers and stifled the sneeze that threatened. He loved flowers, but some of them didn’t love him back.
“Does it matter? My father pounded that in deeper than the pilings for the Bay Bridge. He never said he was sorry for anything, not even to my mother, and he never stood for any sort of excuses, only logical arguments.” Dante huffed. “Anyway, I don’t do explanations, but I think you deserve one.” He shifted in his seat the way a kid might when he was called to the principal’s office.
“Why?” Beau questioned. “If you don’t do them, then why tell me?”
Dante leaned closer. “I don’t fucking know why. But… I think for some stupid reason, I care what you think about me.”
Beau nodded slowly and thought he might have been given a glimpse, even as small as it was, into how Dante thought about things. “You really don’t care what other people think?”
Dante shrugged. “Being a leader means thinking for yourself. Yeah, you listen to others, but you have to be the one making the decisions, and sometimes they’re hard. So, no, I don’t usually care what people think of me. But I care how you see me.” Dante looked nervous and worked up, fidgeting in his seat.
“What do you want to tell me?”
“When I was here working with the kids, I got a phone call. One of the men at the plant, in the accounting department, we caught him stealing from the company.”
“Is that why you were so angry?” Beau remembered that call and how Dante had sounded. “You were cold as hell.”
Dante nodded. “The porcelain works has been doing well and sales keep improving, but our profits have flatlined over the last two years and I couldn’t figure it out. Then I got the call that day that John Lederer, the plant head, had stumbled onto something and found the cause. I had the man’s employment terminated. Apparently he told his wife that I let him go for no reason because, after all, I’m the Beast of St. Giles and everything that happens here is somehow my fault.”
“So they showed up at your house with picket signs….”
“Yeah. They wanted to try to pressure me to give Greg his job back, but that isn’t going to happen. We’ve tracked down some of the money he stole, but most of it is gone forever. I know what I said to them and how I treated those people, but they had no clue what was going on and they came to my home to send me a message.” Dante paused briefly. “I work hard to carry the family business forward, which keeps the town prosperous and employs most of the families here in one way or another. I could keep all the money and make myself rich, but I send most of the profits to the Foundation, where it’s given back to the community.”
“Is that all you do?” Beau asked.
“No. I protect the people in my life. I don’t have many of them, but I guard the people who work for me, and I will not tolerate anyone intruding on what should be my private life. They brought some imagined fight to my doorstep and expected me to roll over and take it. I won’t.”
“I think I can understand that. But you get more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.”
“Maybe, but people fuck with you less if you let them know that you aren’t going to take it.”
The near-raging fire behind Dante’s eyes was really telling and helped convince Beau that he had been right: Dante’s life had been incredibly unpredictable and abusive. But Beau wasn’t going to press it right now. Dante wasn’t going to tell him what was behind all of this. He’d kept it bottled up inside for a very long time, and never letting go was too wrapped up in who Dante had become.
“Was that all you wanted to tell me?” Beau asked, sitting back in the chair. He was used to waiting people out, though Dante seemed like a tough nut. He crossed his legs and got a little more comfortable.
“I had a good time at dinner… well, before….”
“I understand.” Beau was getting an idea where this conversation was headed, but he purposely let Dante stumble a little in order to let him decide what he really wanted. Many of the people he worked with had trouble making decisions because they didn’t understand what it was they truly wanted. Others had decisions made for them their whole lives, and part of Beau’s job was to empower them so they felt as though they could make decisions for themselves.
“Would you like to try to have dinner again?” Dante finally asked.
Beau nodded. “Yes. That would be very nice. But this time, let’s go out to dinner. There’s a nice restaurant in St. Michaels.”
“I was thinking that Harriet could make dinner for us again and—”
“No. You asked me properly, and I’d like to go out like a real person. Give your staff the night off, and we can have some fun.” Beau pulled up his calendar. “I don’t have any appointments tomorrow evening or on Friday or Saturday. We could go then if you’d like.” Beau waited. “I understand why you don’t venture into town here a lot. But I think you’re making a mistake.”
Dante leaned forward. “Excuse me?”
Beau thought a second. “Unless you want people to think of you as the Beast?” He was trying to get a reaction from Dante, and instead Dante leaned back and ignored that part of the comment.
“How am I making a mistake… in your opinion?” Dante was humoring him, which was so clear from the amusement in his tone.
“People talk about and make up stories about people they don’t know. Ethnic jokes are made about other groups of people. If you went out and met people, let them see you and maybe talk to you, they’d realize you aren’t a monster.”
Dante closed his eyes. “But what if I am?” He stood, went to the door, and pulled it open. Then he stepped out into the hall, and Beau figured he’d pushed too hard and was already swearing silently at himself in his head.
Beau lowered his gaze and was about to get up so he could put the flowers in water.
“Tomorrow night would be nice,” Dante said. “Let me know where you’d like me to pick you up.” He closed the door, leaving Beau in shock.
He sat still for a few seconds, then snatched up the phone. “Angie, come in here a second.”
The door opened almost before he hung up the phone. “He gave you the flowers?” she asked as Beau handed them to her.
“Put them in some water and set them on the front desk so everyone can enjoy them.” His eyes were already starting to water. He tried to stop it, but his sneeze rang through the small room.
“You didn’t tell him you were allergic, did you?” She took them and stepped out of the office as Beau sneezed again.
“Of course not. It was a nice gesture, and no one has ever given me flowers.” He wiped his eyes and turned back to his desk.
She leaned down, inhaling the scent of the yellow and orange roses. “Was that all?”
Beau wagged his eyebrows and said nothing more.
“No way? The Beast asked you out?” Her lower lip nearly hit the floor.
“Angie, we don’t talk about people, anyone, like that here. Please don’t anymore. Okay? This is a safe place, and that means from bullying of any kind.” He shot her a brief but stern look before checking the clock. He had a few minutes for some paperwork before he had a group session.
AFTER WORK the next day, Beau walked home and climbed the stairs. He liked the place. It wasn’t too old, and the appliances were relatively new. He didn’t have a lot of furniture; what he’d gotten had come from a few secondhand stores. Nothing matched, but he didn’t mind. It was his and the furniture was comfortable. He loved his sofa in particular. It was extra wide, and on cold evenings, he curled up on it under a blanket and watched television as he fell asleep.
Beau checked the time and hurried to the bathroom. He had fifteen minutes to clean up and dress. He showered fast and pulled on a pair of dark gray dress pants and a pale green shirt. He checked himself in the mirror, grabbed his shoes and socks, then looked out the window for Dante before pulling them on. Then he checked again, locked up, and went down the stairs to the sidewalk. Beau checked his phone for the time and glanced up as a long black limousine pulled to a stop. The back door opened, and Dante smiled out at him.
“I don’t think this was necessary,” Beau said as he got inside and closed the door, and the vehicle glided away from the curb. “Do you have a driver too?”
“In a way. Roberts runs the inside of the house, and Juan manages the exterior. He also acts as my driver on occasion.”
“Doesn’t that make for long days?”
“Sometimes. But when his son graduated from high school, he used the limousine, and again when his daughter got married. I don’t go everywhere in it, so I don’t need a full-time driver, but I thought it would make tonight special.” Dante sat back as they rode out of town and to the main road that led south down toward St. Michaels. “Is seafood okay?”
“Of course,” Beau answered as he tried to relax. “It’s what the town is known for.”
“I made a reservation, but I haven’t been there in a few years. Thankfully Roberts had a suggestion. I hope it’s okay.”
Dante was acting nervous, and that made Beau rather happy in a perverse way. He reached forward, turning up the air-conditioning a little so he didn’t sweat through his shirt. Okay, so maybe he was nervous too.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you… today… or ever again. Not after how I left.”
“I was pretty upset when you disappeared. But then, I guess I brought it on myself.” Dante’s leg bounced slightly, and Beau let his gaze travel from his mirror-shiny shoes up his black-clad leg to where the fabric gripped Dante’s thighs. Beau’s mouth turned dry in an instant. “I’ve brought on a lot of my own grief over the years.”
Beau could have easily slipped into counselor mode, but that wasn’t his role tonight. Instead, he put on a different hat, so to speak, took Dante’s hand, and threaded their fingers together. “Maybe it’s time for you to stop adding to the pile of whatever it is you see as your grief.”
Dante turned to look at him. “Spoken like a true counselor.”
“Is that what you think I’m here to do? Is that why you invited me to dinner? Did you want some one-on-one counseling time?” Beau tightened his fingers. “Because that isn’t why I’m here, and all you had to do for that was call and make an appointment. It’s free, in part because of your generosity.”
“No. That’s not why I asked you out.” Dante huffed. “Sometimes you can be as prickly as anyone I’ve ever met.”
Beau rolled his eyes. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black, and you know it.” He grinned, and Dante followed suit. “There….”
“What?”
“You smiled.” Beau reached over and gently ran his fingers over Dante’s cheek, then up into his raven-black hair, its softness lightly tickling his fingers. “You’re stunning when you smile.”
Dante closed his eyes and sighed softly without moving. “So are you.”
“No, I’m not. I know I’m rather plain-looking and not all that special. I don’t have your chiseled jawline or….” Beau pulled his hand away and rested it on his lap. “I’m not handsome and I never will be.”
Dante leaned closer. “How about you let me decide what you are.”
The hint of growl in his voice went right down Beau’s spine, settled in his groin, and took root in the most energetic and erotic way. Beau shifted for comfort and wished he dared reposition himself. He stretched his leg out, grateful for the space provided.
“You don’t understand,” Beau said softly.
“About what?” Dante stroked Beau’s cheek. “I think you’re handsome and kind of cute.” Dante smiled again. Beau was about to protest the cute remark, but Dante ran his thumb over his lower lip, and his protest died there.
Dante leaned forward, bringing their lips together, and Beau’s brain short-circuited. The touch was light and gentle at first, but as Beau put his arms around Dante’s neck, the kiss heated and Dante’s weight against him increased, pressing him back.
The fire between them flared white-hot, and Beau tried to control it but lost. Dante cupped Beau’s head in his hand and took possession of him. Beau capitulated in seconds, giving Dante whatever he asked for because it was exactly what Beau wanted as well. Dante tasted of mint and man mixed in heady proportions. It was all Beau could have asked for. He leaned back under Dante’s weight and lay on the seat, looking up into Dante’s passion-darkened eyes. Beau was blown away. Never in his life had anyone looked at him that way… with enough heat to melt steel. Speaking of steel, that’s what pressed against the front of Beau’s pants, desperate for release, and Beau felt an answering rod against his for a few seconds.
Dante pulled him closer, kissing harder. The leather of the seat cradled his body, the car rocking slightly as it traveled over the road. Not that Beau felt much of anything other than the pounding of his heart. He pulled back, taking in the intensity in Dante’s eyes. He wanted Beau. There was no doubt of that, not for a second. Beau groaned under his breath at the warmth in Dante’s gaze.
“You taste like passion,” Dante told him in a whisper that rumbled through Beau’s brain like a freight train. “I want more of you… I want—”
Beau closed his eyes and the distance between them. He had to cut off Dante’s words, and that was the only way to do it fast enough. His mind grew so clouded, he barely registered Dante undoing the buttons of his shirt. But as soon as Dante’s hand pressed to his chest, Beau grew still, clamping his eyes closed.
“What happened to you?” Dante asked as he pulled away.
Beau didn’t dare open his eyes or he’d see the pity and disgust on Dante’s face, and that was something he couldn’t stand. Not after what he’d just felt.
“Beau….” Dante held his shirt, but Beau pulled away, doing up the buttons as quickly as he could.
“I know it isn’t pretty.” Beau opened his eyes and sat back up, cursing himself for ever letting any of this happen. He liked Dante and found him… so many things. Hell, he was attracted to him, but that attraction had blinded him to the facts he hid under his clothing each and every day. There was a reason he only ever opened the top button on his shirts and never wore V-neck T-shirts or tank tops.
“What happened to you?” Dante asked again.
“It doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” Beau crossed his arms over his chest to add some additional armor. The ardor of just a minute earlier had evaporated within seconds, and now they were just riding to dinner.
“It must have been painful.”
Beau nodded. He always told his clients that holding things inside was never good and only allowed them to fester and grow. Beau had come to terms with what had happened and how he looked a long time ago. At least he liked to tell himself that, but his reaction at Dante’s touch said maybe that wasn’t true. “They thought I was going to die.” His belly did a few little flips and then settled down. “I don’t remember it much. I was thirteen. My dad loved to hunt. It was his passion. He’d dreamed of hunting in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, so he and I got licenses and we went up there for the opening of deer season.” He remembered it like it was yesterday. “I used to love going out with him. The trees and the quiet were enticing. With all the leaves falling, it was one of the best times for me to go outside. I had really bad allergies as a kid. I’ve outgrown a lot of them now.”
Dante smiled wryly. “The flowers I brought?”
“I shared them with everyone. I still have some issues.” Beau avoided saying that if he’d left them in his office, he’d have sneezed all day long. “The thing was, that fall, with the cooler weather, was good for me, and so my dad took me with him. We had found a natural blind, right on one of the deer paths. It was perfect and the woods were so beautiful, all filled with the fall colors. We hunted with bow and arrow because that was when Dad could get time off. Not that it mattered. The trip was all about spending time together.”
“My dad never did things like that with me,” Dante said softly. “He enrolled me in little league, and I played four years. My dad came to three games the entire time. He always said he was busy….”
“My dad made time for me. At least for a while.” Beau swallowed. “I was up in the tree and had a good spot as a group of deer came by. It was perfect and I lined up the shot. I could see the buck’s neck right at the end of the arrow and was about to let it go when it happened. I couldn’t stop it and began to sneeze. The deer broke into a run and I lost my shot.”
“I bet you were angry.” Dante met his gaze and held it. “I know I would be.”
“Yeah, I was, and I climbed down, continually sneezing…. I checked my pockets and remembered my dad had my meds. I went searching for him.” Beau could no longer look at Dante and sat back, staring ahead. “What I didn’t realize was what had really scared the deer. It wasn’t me, but a large black bear. He was interested in filling his belly one more time before winter, and at that moment, I looked like a snack.”
“Oh God,” Dante whispered.
“I yelled at the top of my lungs and tried to make myself as big as I could. The bear stood on its hind legs, cried out, and then attacked.” Beau shivered as the car grew arctic cold in seconds. “I remember being clawed and going down to the ground, figuring I was going to die. The pain was so bad, and all I could do was say goodbye in my head and wait for the end to come. I heard shots, and that was all I remember. Dad had a pistol with him, which he apparently emptied into the bear.”
“Holy crap.”
“Yeah. Dad did first aid and called for help. I don’t remember a lot of it because I was in and out, but they took me out by helicopter. It’s the only time I ever got to ride in one, and I don’t remember anything about it. I spent months in the hospital. They treated the wounds, which became infected, and it was pretty nasty because it spread. I had to have surgery in order to repair the damage once they cleared out the infection, so….” He looked down. “I’m not pretty and I never will be. I know that.”
“Beau—”
“I know who I am, Dante. After the attack, I had amazing people who worked with me to help me accept my limitations. The infection affected my kidneys some, as well as my lungs. I’ll never be able to run a marathon or do heavy, taxing exercise. I have to watch some foods, and I drink in very small amounts. I also don’t go to the beach or run around without a shirt. That’s just the way it is.” Beau shrugged. “The people who helped me accept who I am also made me want to become a counselor so that I could help people.”
“Why alcohol and drugs?” Dante asked.
“Because that’s where I was needed, so it’s where I went. I love working with the kids, and there’s very little in life more satisfying than watching as someone figures out their way in life and puts themselves on the path to true happiness. It sometimes takes years, and it’s never easy, but when it happens, it’s so gratifying to know that you really helped someone.” The car slowed down, and Beau leaned to peer out the window. “Is this the turnoff?”
“Probably,” Dante answered, moving closer to him once again. Beau tensed as Dante looked like he was going to kiss him again. “What’s wrong?”
“You don’t need to feel like you have to do this,” Beau told him. “I know I just told you a lot about what happened to me, but I didn’t do it to make you feel sorry for me.”
“Has that happened to you before?”
“Yeah. I had a boyfriend a few years ago. At least I thought he was. We’d dated for a month and things were getting physical, so I told him about myself. He said it didn’t matter, only it did once I took off my shirt. Well… he wasn’t ready. I saw him go pale and then turn away. I let him off the hook and told him I was tired. He took the excuse, and I never heard from him again.”
“So you expect everyone to act that way?” Dante asked softly, with a hint of confusion.
“Like I said, I don’t have any illusions that guys are going to ultimately find me attractive, and I can live with that.” Beau had worked through his body issues years ago. He really had made peace with who he was and had figured out some time ago that he wasn’t likely to meet someone who could look past the scarred body. “I basically like who I am and have no delusions about the person I am.”
“Then if that’s true, why did you ask me out to dinner that afternoon?” Dante’s eyes danced, and Beau felt them probing for some sort of deception.
“I thought you might need a friend. I didn’t expect anything more… not really. Like I already told you, there was something about you that perplexed me, and not many people do that.” Beau shrugged. “I certainly didn’t anticipate flowers or being whisked away in a limousine for dinner. And quite frankly, I don’t expect anything happening after we eat.” His cheeks heated once again, and he glanced away, looking out the window as they passed through the outskirts of the lovely little fishing and tourist town. “I definitely didn’t anticipate to be kissed within an inch of my life beforehand.”
“You assume that every man you meet is so shallow that they can’t look past the outside?”
Dante leaned forward, and Beau felt breath on his neck. He purposely didn’t turn around even as heat raced through him. He wanted to believe that was possible, but it wasn’t likely to be anyone as stunning as Dante Bartholomew. He also doubted that anyone hurting as Dante seemed to be would be able to open himself up like that and accept what was on the inside.
“I don’t expect it, but I think it’s pretty much inevitable. I can live with it.” Even as the words crossed his lips, he wondered if they were true. Had he really thought that he would be alone all his life?
“Would you turn around?” Dante asked, and Beau shifted slowly in his seat, meeting Dante’s gaze. “It seems a shame to cut yourself off from everyone like that.”
Beau raised his eyebrows. “Why? You seem to have done just that. Are you happy?”
Dante sighed. “I don’t think I’m meant to be happy. I think the decisions I’ve made have made it impossible and made me unworthy to be happy.”
The car pulled to a stop, and Beau reached to open the door. “How about we continue this conversation later?” He stepped out of the car and waited for Dante.
“We’ll be a few hours. I’ll call you when we’re ready to be picked up,” Dante told Juan, who nodded and pulled the limousine down the street. Dante motioned to the small restaurant, and Beau climbed the steps to what had once been a grand Victorian home and was now a luxurious restaurant with scents to boggle the mind wafting through it.
“Wow,” Beau couldn’t help murmuring as he glanced all around and inhaled slowly, letting the warmth of spicy herbs, a touch of garlic, and a hint of heat encircle him.
Dante spoke to the hostess, and then they were escorted through the richly decorated space filled with glorious antiques to a table in the base of the round tower that jutted above them into the night.
“This is really nice.” He hadn’t imagined Dante would make a reservation at the best restaurant on the Eastern shore.
“I hoped you’d like it.” Dante took his seat, and when the server came over, he introduced himself and took their drink orders. Dante ordered a bottle of sparkling wine, as well as bottled water. Then they took a look at their menus.
Beau was completely torn. Everything sounded amazing, and he had no idea what to choose. Eventually he settled on a strawberry-laced salad to go with fresh snapper. Dante ordered sea bass and a Caesar salad. He thanked the server and waited for him to leave.
“Have you ever been here before?” Beau asked.
Dante nodded, a cloud passing over his face. “This was Allison’s favorite restaurant.”
“Do you think that’s a little strange?”
Dante shrugged. “I remembered the restaurant and asked Roberts to make the reservation. I didn’t give it much thought until I got here.”
“We can go if you need to.”
“No.” Dante sat straighter in his chair. “It’s been a long time.”
Beau thought a second. “What was she like?”
“Allison?” Dante seemed shocked.
“Yeah. What was she like?” Beau hoped getting Dante to talk about her would make things easier.
“She was my best friend. I met her in the ninth grade, and we became friends very quickly. My dad liked that I had a girlfriend, even though we were only friends and nothing more. Her family used to go on these long, huge vacations every summer, and the last few years of high school, they took me along with them. We went out West and saw all the national parks. Stuff like that. We stayed friends through college, and then once we got out, I went to work for my dad, and she went on to study law and eventually worked for a big law firm in DC.”
“But did you know you were gay?”
“Yes, and so did Allison. That’s why we became such close friends. There wasn’t a bunch of sexual tension between us. We loved each other and helped look out for each other. Allison was a great friend.” The cloud of darkness washed over his features once again. “Anyway, she had a great sense of humor—at least she did when we were kids. As we got older, she got more serious and put herself through law school. She was very determined and dedicated to her career for a while. But apparently she lost interest. That was Allison all over. Even as a kid, she threw herself into things and then grew tired of them after a while. She moved back to St. Giles and opened her own legal practice because she said she wanted to help the people there.”
“Is that when you grew closer again?”
Dante nodded, and the server arrived with a champagne bucket on a stand and opened the bottle, poured their glasses, and then left them alone once again. Beau wanted to ask some more questions about Allison, but it seemed Dante had said all he wanted to say, as his expression hardened.
“This was her favorite restaurant, and we used to come here a lot when we were first married.”
Beau was glad he’d been wrong, and if Dante wanted to talk, he’d let him.
“What are you doing here?” a man growled, and Beau turned his gaze from Dante to a tall, broad man standing next to their table. He stared at Dante, mouth curled in a sneer. “You aren’t fit to be seen in public with anyone, you fucking monster.”
Every head in the restaurant turned their way, and their server scrambled over. “Sir, you need to leave.” The server called for others as the man continued to glare at Dante.
“I know what you did, and so help me, I will make you pay for it.” The man leaned down, lowering his voice. “I’ve hated you for years for what you did to Allison. I’m not afraid of you. I will make you pay for what you did. The law might have let you off, but I won’t.” He straightened up and jerked away from the servers. Then his glare shifted to Beau, growing icier by the second, sending a bone-deep chill of pure hatred through Beau. “Is this what you replaced my sister with? A man?” His lip curled upward, and Dante got to his feet, seemingly ready to stand between them.
“Sir, either you leave or we will call the police.” The server sounded unsure of himself, but the message seemed to get through.
The man turned away from the table, storming toward the door as rage washed off him like water over a precipice. He banged a table near the entrance, sending it toppling, glassware shattering and silverware jangling as it hit the floor. He didn’t even pause, slamming the door behind him.
“I’m sorry, sir…,” the server began.
“It’s all right,” Dante said as he drew himself up to his full height and sat as regally as possible. Beau knew it was a front, but one Dante had to put on in order to somehow rise above what had just happened.
“Who was that?”
“Harper Bledsoe, Allison’s brother. As you can tell, like everyone else, he blames me for what happened to Allison.” Dante met Beau’s eyes. “And I can’t blame him. I didn’t murder her, but I am responsible for what happened.” He lowered his gaze to the table.
“Do you want to go?” Beau asked, placing his hand on Dante’s.
“No.” Dante shook his head slightly. “I want to have a nice dinner here with you, and then we can take a walk through town and out to the bay. It’s pretty here, and you deserve a nice dinner.”
Beau could almost see Dante pulling away from him. The time they’d spent together had been strange, but Beau had felt Dante beginning to open up to him. He suspected Dante never talked about Allison to anyone.
Thankfully, most people in the restaurant had returned to their meals. With the excitement over, things seemingly returned to normal. The server brought their salads, and Beau ate and tried to think of something to talk about.
“Next week I have to travel for a while. I’ve been putting this trip off and I can’t any longer.”
“How long will you be away?” Beau asked, then took a small bite of his salad, the sweet of the berries and tang of the dressing mixing to perfection.
“A few weeks.” Dante smiled. “If you could get away, I’d take you with me. Have you seen Paris and London?”
“No. I haven’t traveled a great deal. Not since….” He looked down.
“The attack?”
“Yeah. My dad blamed himself for what happened, and he had some difficult times after that. He drank more than he should and tried to make it up to me. Not that it was his fault. I know that, but I blamed him for a bit too, and that hurt him pretty badly. It took both of us a while to figure things out, but by then I think things had changed between us forever.” Beau set down his fork. “But I was wrong. It wasn’t my dad’s fault. He didn’t somehow convince the bear to attack me. It happened.”
“What was different afterward?” Dante asked after swallowing, and Beau hesitated. It was hard putting things into words that others would understand.
“You mean after we’d both realized it wasn’t his fault?” Beau asked, and Dante nodded. “Time. Lots of wasted time. I was eighteen and could finally see things somewhat clearly. My dad and mom had spent much of what they had on doctors and therapists to help me build up my strength. The injuries on the outside are what can be seen, but the infection had done more damage. Once I let go of all the hurt and hate that I’d let fester, I wasn’t the same person, and neither was he. I look back on it now and realize it was such a waste.”
“Your father is still alive, isn’t he?”
“Yes. And we have a better relationship now.” Beau sighed. “Let’s talk about happier things, okay?” He turned to look out the window and could see the bay in the distance. It was smooth, and the sun sparkled off the water.
“Yes.” Dante ate a little faster. “My dad used to keep a boat moored here, and we’d go out fishing sometimes. Mostly we’d just ride. He loved going fast, the sensation of speed. It was never something I liked. But sometimes it was such fun, with the bay quiet, and when he’d open up that engine, it felt like we were flying across the water.”
“Before the accident, my family was hugely into the outdoors. I told you about hunting, but we used to camp and went hiking a lot. For one vacation we rented a cabin at a lake, and it came with a small boat that had a motor on it. Dad let me drive it, and we went all around that lake.” Beau smiled and turned away to wipe his eyes. “I think it was that summer that things between him and me really started to heal.” He used his napkin to wipe his mouth and nearly gasped at the naked pain in Dante’s eyes. Beau had gotten a second chance with his father once he’d allowed himself to let go of the blame. Dante had never gotten that kind of second chance, and Beau suspected that was what he was seeing at the moment. “Somehow we always seem to circle around to the same things.” He needed to lighten the mood. Beau smiled as the darkness eased from Dante’s eyes.
“What do you suggest?”
“Let me see. I like long walks on the beach, hiking in the woods, being on the water—though I burn really fast so I have to wear a gallon of sunscreen to be out there—and I love a good cheeseburger that’s dripping with onions.” Beau grinned. “If I was to try online dating, that would be my profile.”
“You’re goofy,” Dante told him, but his lips curled upward, and that was the reaction Beau had been going for. “Okay. Let me think. If I was to go for online dating… I like traveling and seeing new things, food of all kinds. I’m really experimental.” Dante leaned forward. “I like quiet evenings at home, reading, a warm fire in the winter, and I’d really like to get a dog.” He sighed. “If I was being honest, I always hoped I’d be able to have children and a big family.” Now he was getting back into dangerous territory.
“That’s not a surprise, with the way the kids at the Center reacted to you. Would you come back in once you get back from your trip?” Beau finished his salad, and the server took the dishes, then brought their main dishes, which were works of art on a plate, the scent of heaven wafting through the air.
“I definitely will.” There was the smile that could light up a room, and it sent the surge of heat racing through Beau that it always did. He was becoming addicted to those smiles, and he somehow needed to break that habit. Dante was carrying so much hurt and pain around with him that getting his hopes up was a surefire way to get himself hurt. But Beau hadn’t figured out how to do that.
“What else?” Beau took his first bite, groaning in near total delight. He looked up from his food as Dante shuddered, and Beau realized Dante hadn’t moved to start eating.
“You shouldn’t make sounds like that,” Dante whispered. “They make me want things I know I shouldn’t have.”
“Why not?” Beau challenged, lifting his eyebrows. “You wear your past around you like an anchor, and I know you don’t think you can let it go, but you’re the only one who can. No one else can take that away or let you live your life going forward.”
“No one is going to let go of the past. Not in St. Giles.”
Beau didn’t argue and took another bite, groaning just a little louder. He was teasing Dante, and it seemed to be working. He gaped as Beau deliberately lifted another morsel of fish to his lips, biting it slowly, watching as tiny beads of sweat broke out on Dante’s forehead. That was beautiful and a bit of a shock to Beau. Dante really liked him, and Beau’s heart did a little jump of joy.
“Man, you’re being mean, you know that?”
Beau swallowed and took another bite. “Or am I being beastly?”
Dante snorted. “That was really bad….” His words ended in a groan as Beau gently licked the back of his fork. “What are you doing?”
“You act like nothing affects you. In a crowd, you stand away like you’re afraid you’ll hurt someone. Most of the time you’re afraid to go out, and you’ve pretty much cut yourself off.” Beau smiled. “To top all that off, you and I have one thing in common—neither of us ever thought we’d find love. Am I right?”
“Yeah.” Dante stilled his hand as Beau reached for another bite of fish. “Do you have a point?”
“I think it’s ironic, and kind of hot, that you’re going crazy watching me eat.” Beau grinned. It sure warmed his heart.
“So what do you want me to say?” Dante leaned over the table. “That I think about you most nights and find it hard to go to sleep and end up picturing your eyes? When I’m supposed to be working, I can’t concentrate and wonder what your lips taste like? Is that what you want me to say?”
Beau swallowed hard, and it had nothing at all to do with the food. “What I want from you is the truth and for you to stop living in the past. You deserve to be loved, just the same as everyone else.”
Dante sat back in his seat. “I’m not sure if that’s true. I believe that our actions have consequences, and if that’s true, then maybe the result of my actions should be that I end up alone. Maybe that’s my punishment.” He returned to his meal, eating in silence.
Beau thought the silence should bother him, but it didn’t, and the meal was so amazingly flavorful that his own plate pulled his attention. “Someday you’re going to have to tell me what it is that’s got itself wrapped so tightly around you.” Beau kept his voice as gentle as possible.
“What if I’m never ready?” Dante took a final bite and set down his fork on his nearly empty plate.
“Then that’s something you’re going to have to decide about. You can’t have your secrets and what you’re so afraid of as well as love and lifelong companionship. Secrets have a way of growing and festering like a wound.” Beau waved a hand in the air, considering his next words. “Think about some of those things you said you wanted. You can’t do them alone, you know. So what’s more important to you, holding on to the past or trying to move forward? I know what those answers are for me, but I can’t answer them for you. Only you can do that.” He sat back as the server cleared the dishes and placed a dessert menu in front of each of them.
“Would either of you like any coffee?”
“No, thank you,” Beau answered, then waited while Dante declined as well. “Are you having dessert?” Beau loved sweets, and the menu appeared completely decadent, with crème brûlée, a mint and chocolate creation that the next table seemed to be enjoying, and a strawberry and vanilla parfait that had his stomach rumbling even though he’d just eaten a rather large dinner.
“I’m not sure. We could share one.”
“The mint one?” Beau asked, and Dante’s eyes broadened and he inclined his head just a little. When the server returned, Dante placed their order, with two spoons, and soon a beautiful plate with a chocolate cylinder filled with mint mousse and whipped cream was set between them on the table. The gentle scent hinted at the lusciousness to come. Beau didn’t want to be the first to break the artistry on a plate. Dante, thankfully, took the first bite, and then he had one.
“I told you about those sounds.” The touch of growl in Dante’s voice sent a shiver through him.
“But it’s so good.”
“And if you do that teasing thing with your spoon again, I’m not going to be able to restrain myself, and I don’t think the restaurant would welcome us back if….” Dante let the repercussions hang in the air, and Beau’s imagination went into overdrive. Dante’s eyes darkened even more, and Beau wondered what kind of kettle of fish he’d just opened. A zing of arousal raced through him, followed by caution. He’d been through this before, and that memory acted like a wet blanket.
Dante might have been flirting with him, but that was all it was likely to be, no matter what his bedroom eyes screamed at him. Once Dante accepted who he was and let go of his past, he could have any guy he wanted at any time, and he wasn’t going to want… well, once he fully saw what was under Beau’s shirt, he wasn’t likely to stick around. Hell, he’d already found out that very little killed the mood faster than his body once he took off his shirt.
“Dante.” He tried to add a note of caution, but Dante seemed to take it completely differently. He took another bite of the dessert, and it must have been Dante’s turn to tease, the tip of his tongue making an appearance, and Beau couldn’t help wondering what Dante could do with it if he decided to take the chance.
Oh hell… two can play this game.
Beau teased right back until he heard a female voice from the next table.
“I’ll have what they’re having.”
He tried to suppress his chuckle and saw Dante doing the same. Then he turned and winked at her. The lady appeared to be in her sixties, with beautifully coiffed hair and a glint in her eye that was adorable. She reminded Beau of his own grandmother, who had passed away when he was a teenager.
“That’ll teach you,” Beau told Dante.
“I wasn’t the one who started it, but I could finish it.”
Beau leaned over the table once again, keeping his voice low. “I dare you.” He was feeling bold. After all, what did he really have to lose? Beau already knew what rejection felt like, and if Dante couldn’t take it, then….
“What are you thinking about? It must be really naughty.” Dante’s voice wrapped around Beau like a pair of strong, sweaty arms around his bare chest.
Beau shrugged. He had no intention of mentioning that if anyone could take the way he looked, it would be the Beast of St. Giles, and at the moment, Beau was up for some of the Beast. It had been a long time since anyone had made his heart race faster and faster the way Dante did. So if the opportunity presented itself, he’d be a fool to pass it up.
He took the last bite of dessert, still gazing at Dante, who stared back with the heat of a volcano. Suddenly the air-conditioned restaurant seemed hot as the very depths of hell. The server brought the check, and Dante paid the bill before Beau could ask about his share. Then they were on their feet and walking out into the night air, pervaded with the scent of water.
“Do you want to take a walk?” Dante asked, and to Beau’s surprise and delight, he took his hand, guiding him down the main street of town. Most of the small tourist shops were closed, but their windows glittered with displays of glass and estate jewelry, even amber. “The waterfront is this way.”
They walked down the wooden walkway toward the docks but stopped as a huge yacht slowly glided out toward the bay. “I’d love to spend time on something like that. Not that I ever will, but could you imagine leaving port, heading down the coast in that kind of luxury, and ending up on some tropical island with palm trees, sand, sun, and nothing to do but make love all day and…?” Beau stopped as he realized he was going on like an idiot. He stood still as the water lapped at the pilings under the dock.
The last of the sunshine faded fast as they watched, with more and more lights flicking on, glinting and dancing on the water. Boats moved in and out, their lights like red and green lanterns gliding through the darkness.
“This is beautiful,” Beau breathed, and Dante squeezed his hand. He’d grown quiet, and Beau was a little concerned until the cool breeze blew in off the water and Dante shifted behind him, wrapping Beau in his arms. An arctic gale wasn’t going to chill him as long as Dante did that.
“Yes, it is.”
Beau angled his head and shoulders and saw Dante looking at him rather than the view all around them.
“Hey, Beast!” The call popped the bubble of contentment around them. “Yeah, I’m talking to you.”
Beau groaned as Dante pulled away. They both turned as Harper, the man from the restaurant, charged toward them.
“That’s enough!” Beau snapped. “I’ve had it with people using that name! I don’t know what happened with your sister, but this is not the time or the place.” He curled his lips at the strong sharpness of alcohol that leeched from Harper’s pores. “Go home and sleep it off before you do something you’ll regret.” Beau took two steps forward, hands on his hips. “I mean it.” He’d had to deal with more than one drunk person in his career.
“But he….” Harper’s resolve weakened, and some sort of sense seemed to percolate through his alcoholic haze.
“It doesn’t matter. I will call the police, and then you’ll be arrested and that will be more trouble.” Beau held Harper’s rummy gaze for as long as he could. “Go on home,” he added more gently. “You need to get some sleep anyway. It’s all you really want right now, isn’t it?”
Harper nodded and yawned.
“Go on and walk home.” Beau continued making himself appear as large as possible, and the last of the fight in Harper slipped away. He turned and lumbered off into the night. “Well, that was certainly interesting.”
“Holy crap,” Dante breathed from behind him. “Do you have Jedi powers or are you the drunk whisperer?”
“Neither. The guy is basically a coward. There was no real fight in his eyes, and as soon as I called him on it, he folded like a house of cards. Once he did, all I needed to do was remind him of what his body wanted anyway. Alcohol is a depressant. His system was slowing down, and once I planted the idea, it was going to take root pretty quickly.”
“I see.”
“Besides, no matter what anyone thinks of you or what you might have done, calling people names is no way to behave. He should know better. Calling others names is just a way of trying to put yourself above someone else. No one gets to do that. I don’t allow it in the Center or any of my sessions, and I certainly won’t let some drunk get away with it, no matter who he is.” Beau breathed deeply as the adrenaline-induced racing of his heart subsided.
“I see.” Dante grinned. “So you’ll be my protector.”
“Not that you need one.” As his mind cleared, he realized how dumb he’d probably looked. Dante could certainly take care of himself. After all, he was definitely bigger and could stand up for himself. It was just that the man’s tone had gotten to Beau in a way that set him off.
“It’s been a long time since anyone stood up for me.” Dante seemed genuinely shocked.
“Then it’s about fucking time,” Beau said with more vehemence than he initially intended. He turned back toward the water, letting its calmness work its way into him once again.
“Are you ready to go?” Dante asked, and when Beau nodded, he stepped away. Beau heard him call Juan and then they walked up to the drive where the limousine pulled up. They climbed inside, and it glided away and back toward St. Giles.