“YOU’RE SERIOUS? Mayor Grant wants to speak to me?” Beau asked Angie when she gave him the message. He’d been on the phone with Dante when the call had come in.
“Yes. That’s what Shirley said. I took down the number for you.” Angie continued with her work, her usual enthusiasm sorely and obviously absent. “I put those grant applications on your desk for review before I send them out.”
“What’s going on?” Beau perched on the edge of her desk, which she absolutely hated but Beau knew was a way to get her to spill the beans.
“The town received an offer for the Center from a developer,” Angie said. “It was brought up at the council meeting last night, and Gertrude Lawson called me this morning to tell me all about it. I didn’t put much faith in it because Gerty doesn’t get a whole lot right, but apparently the amount of money being offered is more than the town can afford to pass up.”
Beau’s shoulders slumped. He turned back toward his office and picked up the phone to return the call.
“Mayor Grant’s office.”
“This is Beau Clarity returning his call.” Beau sat down, his leg bouncing with nervous energy.
“Yes. Mr. Clarity. The mayor is on another call, but would it be all right if he stopped by the Center in an hour? He needs to speak to you.”
“At least he’s got the guts to deliver bad news in person,” Beau said, and Shirley didn’t correct him, which was telling as far as he was concerned. “I’ll be here and available.”
“Thank you.” She ended the call, and Beau settled the receiver in the cradle and tried to return to his work, but his mind refused to settle. It wouldn’t. When he’d taken this job, he’d been assured that the community and the town had been behind the Center and the programs he’d taken on.
THE PHONE on his desk rang and he answered it.
“Beau, the mayor is here.”
“I’ll be right out.” He took a deep breath, left his office, and headed down to get the bad news.
“Mr. Clarity,” Mayor Grant said, stepping forward in his suit and tie, looking sharp and extremely businesslike.
“Mayor Grant, what can I do for you?” Beau shook his hand.
“Is there somewhere we can talk?” Mayor Grant asked, and Beau motioned toward one of the counseling rooms, then followed behind and closed the door after them.
“I’m aware there’s some sort of offer that’s been made on this building,” Beau said, cutting to the chase. “Is the town really considering selling the building and closing the Center? There’s a real need for the services we’re providing, and the building is all the funding the town supplies.”
Mayor Grant raised his hand, and Beau stopped. “I’m well aware of the amazing job you and your staff are doing here and that you raise your own money and don’t require an ongoing line in the town’s budget. But St. Giles isn’t in the real estate business, and we’ve been offered enough money for this building to allow us to do a number of community upgrades that we’ve been searching for the resources for over the last five years.”
“So what? You and the council made promises when you hired me, and those promises will be kept. The Center and its continued functioning were among those. You yourself told me that the community was behind the Center, as was the town council. You don’t get to lie to me that way.” Beau crossed his arms over his chest, his fists clenched tight.
“We are behind the Center and your programs, and we’ll find a new location for you, but the town council is seriously considering accepting the offer on this property.” Mayor Grant reached for the door. “I thought it best to tell you in person rather than just letting the council act on the sale.” He seemed so damned smug. Beau’s stomach trembled.
“You do realize that my next step will be to go to the newspaper here in town, as well as the Annapolis and Baltimore news organizations? This is going to be a great human-interest story, and I will play it up to the hilt. So the council members and you had better be ready for some serious questions, because they’re going to be coming at you.” Beau grinned. “And when the reporters do come, I’ll have a group of seven-year-olds meet them.” He was so angry, he wanted to smack the smugness off the mayor’s face. Mayor Grant swallowed hard, and Beau stepped forward. “This Center provides a great deal of value to the community and you know it.” He now understood why Dante thought Mayor Grant was less than useful.
“As I said, we will work to help find another location. But you have to understand that this offer is too good for anyone to pass up.” Mayor Grant looked around the room. “This facility needs a large number of upgrades, and the building itself is at the end of its useful life. The Center, as well as the town, is spending more and more on maintenance.” He reached for the handle. “We need to work together to find a solution that will work for everyone.” He opened the door and strode across the hallway to the Center’s front entrance, pulled it open, and stepped outside.
As soon as the door closed behind Mayor Grant, Beau swore under his breath and stomped back to his office, slumped into his chair, and put his head in his hands. Beau knew he could make arguments until he was blue in the face and Mayor Grant and council would still do whatever they wanted. Sure, he could raise a stink, but it wasn’t likely to change anything. He was a new person in town and had little say.
Honestly, Beau stared at the phone. His instinct was to call Dante to see if he could help, but he was in London and it was now late enough that hopefully Dante was in bed getting some rest. No, this was something he needed to try to handle on his own. No matter how he felt for Dante, or how Dante might feel for him, he wasn’t going to use those feelings to try to get something he couldn’t get for himself.
He called down to the desk. “Can you come see me as soon as you can?”
“Give me a few minutes,” Angie told him, and Beau hung up and did his best to get through the rest of the work on his desk. A few moments later, Angie knocked and came in. “Was it as bad as I thought?”
“Yes. The useless weasel.” Beau placed his hands flat on the desk. “But we aren’t going to take this lying down.”
“We’re going to fight?” she asked, rubbing her hands together.
“You better believe it. Find out how much the offer on the building is and who’s making it. We should also get in touch with all of our clients and their families. Tell them what’s happening. Try to get them to come to the next council meeting. We need to show support for the Center or we aren’t going to have it.”
“Okay. I’ll see what I can find out.” She left his office, and Beau stared at the wall across from his desk. He hoped to hell that Dante was having a good trip, because Beau’s ability to possibly have a week where he wasn’t worried about something had just flown out the window.
He missed Dante and had wanted to call him all the damn time, but he had to restrain himself. Dante was working. But damn, he just wanted to hear his voice. Beau hadn’t anticipated just how much he could come to miss the gruffness, power, and heat in Dante’s voice after such a short time.
“You know,” Angie said from his doorway, and Beau jumped a little. He hadn’t been expecting her to come back, and damn, that woman could walk like a cat sometimes. “You could call Dante….” She lilted her voice when she said his name.
“I could. But I’m not going to. This Center is important to the community and to all the people we help. But if we can’t make our own case for it—and I’m willing to fight tooth and nail, by God—if the community doesn’t care enough to keep it, then what the hell are we doing?” He looked up from the papers he’d just set back down. “We need to mobilize the community to support us and find out who it is we’re up against.” And he wasn’t above finding out what their weaknesses were either.
Angie grinned. “There it is. That’s the fighting spirit.” She turned, and Beau sighed. He had to get through this damned paperwork, but his mind wasn’t on it. He needed to get on the ball or there would be nothing to be doing paperwork for.
THE FOLLOWING afternoon, after they had composed emails and sent them to everyone on their mailing list explaining the support and show of numbers they needed and when the next council meeting was going to be held, Angie burst into his office and closed the door. “I found it.” She plopped herself into the chair with a self-satisfied look in her eyes.
“Okay. What did you find?” Beau was checking his email, and his belly turned for the millionth time. It was empty and remained that way. He had hoped to receive a flurry of calls and emails expressing outrage and support, but so far there had been nothing from any of the clients they serviced.
“Are you with me?” Angie asked, and Beau focused his attention. “So, I went to the diner and had coffee, sitting with Mrs. Arenson and her crowd. I drank enough coffee this morning to float a battleship, but I heard nothing, not a blessed thing.” She grabbed one of the files off his desk and fanned herself with it. Beau laced his fingers and waited. There was no rushing her when she was like this. Beau had learned he needed to let her say what she wanted to or, heaven help him, she’d start over. “They were about to leave when Mrs. A finally said that it was a shame about the Center.”
“So word has gotten around.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course it has. We sent out, like, a million emails. My inbox is loaded with responses and people ready to show up at the council meeting.” She shook her head as though he was an idiot. “I gave them the main Center email, remember?”
Beau wiped a hand over his forehead. That was a relief.
“And I got the paper to do a story on the Center and what closing it will mean. We’re going to kick some ass, Beau. But, look, as I was saying, I had coffee with Mrs. A and the ladies and I got nothing until Mrs. A said that it was a shame about the Center.” Angie paused for effect. “Then she added that the whole thing was Bartholomew’s fault.”
Beau blinked a few times and leaned forward. “Is Dante buying the building?” That couldn’t be right. Dante knew how important the Center was, and he’d never do that. But a speck of doubt made his belly churn.
“No.” Angie lightly smacked his hand. “Just listen okay? Mrs. A said that it was all Dante’s fault because the guy buying the building is Harper Bledsoe. Who knows how much of this is right. But Mrs. A said that Harper saw you and Dante out together, and the word around town is that you are seeing each other.” Angie barely stopped long enough to take a breath and then spoke lightning fast. “There are two camps about that in town. One is that you better be careful in case the Beast decides to do to you what he did to his wife. The other is that maybe if Dante has someone in his life, he’ll be easier to get along with. Everyone worries about you because you’re such a ‘nice young man.’”
Beau’s head was throbbing. “Can you get back on track?”
“Yeah. Anyway, I’ll save you the details, but it seems they think that Harper wants to build a small retail center, and this is one of the locations he was looking at. He picked this one because….”
Beau sighed. “He could have his center and get at Dante through me somehow.”
“That’s what I heard. Doesn’t mean it’s true, of course, but I was able to talk to Shirley in the mayor’s office, and she told me that it is Bledsoe who’s made the offer.”
“Where did he get the money?” Beau wondered out loud.
Angie shrugged. “Does this help?”
Beau groaned. “I don’t know. Yeah, he has some motive, whatever that may be. And all this about Dante could just be the gossips putting stuff together and coming up with the most salacious things possible.”
Angie nodded. “That’s true, and I won’t argue with you. But at least we know who we’re up against.”
“Yeah.” Beau groaned and closed his eyes, knowing in his heart that him seeing Dante had just complicated their lives and put the Center in danger. Not that Beau intended to let that affect things between them. But it did point to the fact that whatever had happened with Allison, and all those secrets, was now about to affect the Community Center and the people he helped. Beau had no idea what he was going to do about it, except fight the purchase with everything he had.
“Do you know Mr. Bledsoe?” The few run-ins Beau had had with him hadn’t left a good taste in his mouth.
“Not really. Some people in town do. He grew up just outside St. Giles and went to school here for a while.” She scratched her forehead like she was trying to remember something. “I saw him a few times. He moved to St. Michaels about the time that the Be… I mean, Dante got married. I understand Harper and Allison had a really rough time of it.” She leaned forward a little. “I know their parents died a year after Allison did. They were close as far as I know.”
“And now Harper is a big-shot developer? He must have been smart or lucky to have made enough money to do what he’s planning.”
Angie chuckled. “He got it from his sister, apparently. Rumor had it that Allison bought a lot of life insurance and made her brother the beneficiary. So when she died, he got a lot of cash.” She sighed. “This is rumor talking here, and I don’t know how much faith to put in it, but that’s where he got the cash to start his business, and by all accounts, he’s a really good developer, well respected. He won the contract to rebuild the waterfront docks in St. Michaels. They’re beautiful, with those little shops that are small enough and inexpensive enough that small businesspeople and artists can afford them to sell their work. We could use something like that here.”
“Angie, please….” Beau was getting a headache from all her tangents.
“Okay, okay. The point is, Bledsoe got a pile of money because of his sister’s death, and it looks like he’s using some of that to try to buy the Center.”
“All to punish Dante through me because he saw the two of us together?” Beau knew that was a stretch. “There has to be more to it than that.”
“Oh, there probably is, but I don’t know if we’ll ever figure out what it is. That reason may be known only to him right now. But if you want, I can try to do some digging.”
Beau groaned. He wasn’t sure what to do. “Sure, go ahead, but we have to be careful of all privacy concerns. I don’t want anything that might pertain to the Center or our work to make it into the realm of the rumor mill. But if you can find something out, bring it to me and no one else,” he said, deadly serious. The last thing he wanted was any of the Center’s records and practices being called into question. Right now it was only a fight for the Center’s building and not for the very survival of the organization.
“Of course. I never talk about anything at the Center outside these walls.” She seemed almost affronted. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because as much as I hate to”—especially after the confrontations he’d already witnessed—“I might have to try to meet with him and see if we can work things out.” That idea was a last resort. His best chance was to put enough pressure on the council and Mayor Grant to get them to back off the sale. “Let me know what you find out.” Beau checked the time and stood. “I need to get to a session with the kids.”
“All right.” She left the office, and Beau went on down to the kid-friendly area to get it ready.
“HOW ARE things going?” Dante asked when he called that evening. It had to be well after midnight in Europe.
“Pretty good. I told the kids you’d be back to visit when you got home, and they were really excited.” Beau kept the issue regarding the building to himself for now. “How much longer before you come home?”
“I’ll be there Friday night, and I thought we could have dinner on Saturday. It’s been a great trip, but I’m looking forward to seeing you.” Dante hesitated. “There are some things I think I need to tell you.” Dante’s voice grew softer, and even through a transatlantic connection, Beau could hear the worry.
“Just come home in one piece, and I’m looking forward to seeing you too. We can talk about whatever you want once you get here and have had a chance to rest.” He was so looking forward to seeing Dante and having him back. He’d lived a quiet life for a long time, and now that he had someone to share it with, or the beginnings… maybe, sort of… of someone in his life, he wanted them close.
“I will.” Dante yawned, and Beau told him to get some rest. Then he ended the call and tried to get his mind back on what he needed to.
His phone chirped with a message from Angie. Special council meeting next week to discuss sale. Wednesday @ 7:00. Will get message ready to go out tomorrow. Let’s mobilize the troops.
He answered her and then finished his dinner before settling on the sofa to rest and try to chill out.
THE DAYS inched by. Parents and other clients all asked about what was going to happen to the Center whenever they came in, and the entire staff reassured them as best they could before encouraging them to show up at the meeting. A lot of people said they would, but Beau knew agreeing to show up and actually making an appearance were two different matters.
By the time Friday arrived, Beau was on pins and needles. Dante texted him when he landed at Dulles and let him know that he was on his way to St. Giles, but the drive would take a few hours.
Do you want me to come see you? Beau texted back when Dante said he was just crossing the Bay Bridge a few hours later, which meant he was ten minutes or so away. It was after eight, and Beau had just finished eating a light dinner and had settled on the sofa.
His text went unanswered for a few minutes, but then his phone dinged. I’ll be out front in five.
Beau sat up and looked around for his shoes. His heart rate grew faster as the seconds ticked by. He hadn’t expected to go out, not really, and he needed to clean up. He hurried to the bathroom, washed as quickly as he could, brushed his teeth, and changed his shirt, ready for Dante when he arrived out front.
The back door of the limousine opened as Beau approached, and he climbed inside, pulling the door closed. He was immediately tugged down onto the seat. No words were spoken, but that was probably because Dante pulled him into a kiss that left Beau breathless, and he loved every second of it. His week had been horrendous, but it was immediately better now, with the tension melting away, replaced with a different kind of energy that thrummed through him in the best way possible.
“God, I missed you,” Dante whispered.
“Me too.” Beau sat back, not looking away from Dante as he recommitted his taste and the way his eyes darkened to memory once again. Beau still found it hard to believe that someone like Dante would find him attractive. But one thing he told the people he tried to help was to accept and enjoy the good things when they came, and he was determined to do that. “But your trip was worthwhile?”
Dante nodded. “I’ll tell you all about it, I promise.” He tugged Beau closer as the car pulled out and they glided through town. Dante kissed him again, and for a little while, Beau let go and just felt. It was what he needed right now. “Usually I love my trips overseas. No one there knows me as anything other than Dante, and there are no other expectations or pressures other than business. But this one was different.” Dante smiled. “I’ve never had someone to come home to before.”
Beau swallowed hard, closing his eyes, trying to decide if he wanted to ask the question that popped into his head. “What about with Allison?” He braced for Dante to pull away, but he held still, then tightened his hold on him.
“She was my wife, but we were more like friends than anything else. At least that’s how I looked at things. I traveled when I needed to, and she had her own life and activities. Well, that’s how I thought things were between us. That was the agreement we had when we arranged to marry.” Dante sighed softly. “While I was away, I decided to tell you about her and what happened between us. But I don’t want to do that tonight. I don’t have the energy or the patience for that right now.”
“I can understand that.” The car bounced and tilted slightly as they pulled into the driveway of Dante’s estate.
“Thank you, Juan,” Dante said through a break in the partition and then opened the door. He climbed out, not letting go of Beau’s hand, and led him through into the house, where Roberts met them in the hall. “When do you need to work tomorrow?” Dante asked.
“I have a session at eleven.”
Dante turned to Roberts. “We’ll have breakfast at nine.”
“Very good. I’ll arrange to have the luggage brought in, and I’ll take care of it in the morning so you aren’t disturbed.”
Dante nodded, and Beau smiled. “I appreciate your care.” He liked knowing that when he wasn’t around, someone watched out for Dante, even if that’s what he was paid to do.
Roberts didn’t seem to know what to say to that and nodded carefully. “You both have a good night.” He turned to leave the room as Dante tugged Beau up the stairs.
“I don’t think anyone has ever left him speechless before.” Dante sounded pleased.
“He does take care of you and looks after you all the time. And I don’t think a lot of what he does is really his job.” Beau paused at the top of the stairs. “I mean, does he ever sleep? He’ll make sure the luggage is inside and the dirty clothes in the laundry. He’ll lock up the house and check that it’s secure. Then he’ll go to bed and somehow he’ll be up in the morning before either of us to ensure that you have everything you need.” Beau stroked Dante’s cheek. “I know you see what people do around you, but sometimes you maybe take them for granted.”
“I don’t,” Dante said quietly. “I’m well aware of how lost I’d be without him. Hell, there have been times when I thought he was the only person I had in my corner.”
Beau nodded gently. It wasn’t his place to offer an opinion, and he’d probably already said too much on the subject. Not that he had strong disagreements.
Dante squeezed his hand and led him to his bedroom, pushed open the door, and stepped inside. He turned on the light beside the bed, the single bulb casting a gentle glow through the room.
“Do you need to clean up?”
Dante removed his jacket, laying it over the back of one of the chairs, and unbuttoned his shirt. “Yes. I’ve been cooped up in planes and cars for hours.” Shirtless, his skin glistening, Dante pulled him into a tight embrace. “How about you join me?” He yawned, which told Beau a great deal about just how tired Dante was and that it was likely that sleep was going to be the only activity happening in the bed.
“Go ahead and shower. I’ll ask Roberts about something light to eat, and then we can get you in bed.” Dante needed someone to care for him at the moment; the dark circles under his eyes told Beau that. He stroked Dante’s arm, the muscles rippling under his touch, weariness seeping into Dante, making his shoulders slump.
Beau left the room and found Roberts downstairs, taking care of the luggage. “Is there something light to eat?”
“Of course.” Roberts put the bag he was carrying next to the stairs. “I’ll bring something up in a few minutes if that’s all right.” He retrieved the second suitcase and closed the front door.
“Beau.” Dante’s voice drifted down the stairs. No bellow or harshness, just need and bone-weariness.
“I’ll be right up,” Beau answered, then turned back to Roberts just in time to see him nod and hear a soft sigh. Beau raised his eyebrows in curiosity, but Roberts said nothing more, so Beau climbed the stairs. He found Dante in his room, naked, sitting on the edge of the bed, half-asleep.
Beau started the shower for him and got Dante moving into the bathroom. He heard the sound of the water change when Dante got in the shower and waited for him to finish. Roberts knocked on the door, and Beau took the tray with a few rolls and some ham and cheese on it, along with a pot of what smelled like chamomile tea, and set it on the dresser.
The water sound didn’t change, so Beau peeked into the bathroom to find Dante mostly asleep under the water. Beau slipped off his clothes and climbed into the shower with him, lathered his hands, and soaped Dante’s broad back.
Dante jerked as soon as Beau touched him.
“It’s all right.” Beau continued lathering and then stepped closer, pressing his chest to Dante’s back and his hips to his butt, letting his hands roam over Dante’s chest.
A rumbling sigh rolled through the enclosure, and Dante lolled his head back onto Beau’s shoulder. He continued soaping, his fingers gliding over taut skin and hard muscles. He made no effort to entice or tease. This wasn’t about sex or lust, but care and gentleness. It was about being close and sharing an intimacy that in some ways was more personal than sex. About taking care, showing support, and looking out for the other. Beau also knew it was something even more than that. It was the Beast, his Beast, Dante, a man who had to be strong for everyone, letting Beau take care of him.
Beau washed Dante’s hair and then pressed him forward, the water running over both of them. Once the traces of soap and shampoo had slid away, he turned off the water and grabbed one of the huge, soft towels from the counter. “Go ahead and dry yourself,” Beau said softly as he did the same. “There’s food and tea out in the bedroom.”
“God, I had no idea how long this trip was going to feel.”
Dante dried himself mechanically and most likely on instinct. Beau hung up the towels when they were done and guided Dante to the bedroom and down into one of the chairs. He pressed a roll with ham and cheese slices on it into Dante’s hands, and he ate automatically, drinking some tea.
Beau sat in the other chair, eating a few bites himself. What surprised him was that he wasn’t self-conscious and hadn’t thought about how he looked or about the scars that ran down his chest. When Dante lifted his gaze, there was nothing in it but happiness and banked want and heat. Beau had always thought he’d come to terms with what had happened, but in those few minutes, he realized he’d now made the final step on that very long journey. If Dante didn’t care about those scars and what they looked like, then why should he? Beau didn’t see himself going shirtless on a beach anytime soon, but he was done worrying about the disfigurement.
“Let’s get you into bed.” Beau took the empty cup, placed it on the tray along with his own, and took Dante’s hand to guide him to the bed and under the covers. Dante rolled over away from the light and settled immediately. Beau got into bed, turned out the light, and snuggled into the warmth. Behind him, Dante muttered something under his breath and then, with what had to have been the last of Dante’s conscious thought before he fell asleep, he tugged Beau closer and wrapped his arm around him. “Good night,” Beau whispered.
Dante muttered something in return and then his breathing evened out and he was asleep. Beau stayed awake a little longer, wondering what Dante was going to tell him in the morning and how Beau was going to impart his own news.
“BEAU,” DANTE said, cutting into the glorious dream Beau was having of being next to a pool and Dante sliding his lips…. “It’s after eight.”
“Oh.” Beau rubbed his eyes and sat up, the bedding pooling across his hips. “I didn’t know I was that tired.” He slid out of the bed and trudged to the bathroom to take care of business before returning to the bedroom. Dante lay on top of the covers, hands behind his head, staring at him. Beau looked right back, his gaze raking down Dante’s sculpted chest and hard, tawny nipples, along with the rest of him.
“I missed you.” Dante opened his arms, and Beau jumped on the bed, to Dante’s laughter, those strong arms closing around him. Beau’s skin tingled wherever he touched Dante, and when their lips met, the fire that had been smoldering deep inside since Dante had picked him up last night burst into open flame. He pressed Dante back on the pillows, stretching out on top of him, kissing Dante with everything he had.
“I thought of you all the time.” Beau ground his hips against Dante’s, the attraction threatening to overwhelm him. Somehow he kept his control enough to enjoy the closeness that had been denied for the last two weeks. “Those were the longest two weeks I can remember.” He tilted his head upward slightly, kissing Dante hard, taking what he wanted as his entire body ached with need.
“For me too.” Dante guided their lips together, sending a series of overlapping waves of electricity and heat racing through Beau. He quivered and shook as Dante slid his hands down his back to cup his ass with their strength.
Beau stilled and raised his head enough to catch Dante’s gaze. “I have to check—don’t you have places you need to be?”
Dante shook his head. “Nope. Just right here with you.” He caught Beau’s lips once again. Beau had to go to the Center, but not for a while, and it wasn’t long before thought of anything other than Dante became impossible.
BEAU WAS almost late for his session, but he was more than happy about it. His entire body sang with energy, and he was sore in some pretty wonderful places.
“I take it he’s home,” Angie quipped as he strode into the Center. “I have your group for the morning in the gathering room at the end of the hall. They were wondering why you weren’t here already because you’re always so early. I told them you were probably getting busy.” She kept a straight face, and Beau waited her out. Angie would say many things, sometimes outrageous stuff, but he didn’t believe she’d ever do that.
“He is home, and that’s all I’m going to say.” Beau flashed a grin.
“Did you tell him about the Center and what’s happening? Especially since it looks like he might be the cause of all of this?”
“No. We need to be able to fight our own battles. If the Center is going to survive, then it needs to be because the community is behind it. Not because Dante Bartholomew wants to make his boyfriend happy.” Beau tapped the counter twice and then headed down to his group session, which took an hour. Then he went to his office and sat at his desk, trying to compose what he wanted to say to the town council in order to make them understand their case and why it was best that the Center stay where it was.
A knock sounded a few hours later—Beau had no idea where the time went—and he lifted his gaze. Dante filled the doorway, staring intently at him. “What’s up?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dante demanded.
“About what?” Beau kept his tone as light as he could.
Dante took a step inside the office. “About Harper’s offer on the building.”
Beau sighed and stood, walked around the desk, and closed the door. “I didn’t tell you because it doesn’t have anything to do with you. He’s made an offer to buy the building, and the town board is considering it. The mayor is all in favor, but I’m hoping to get the community behind saving the Center.”
Dante practically growled. “This Center does a hell of a lot of good, and the town knows it.” He turned toward Beau. “I will make sure they understand that selling this property is going to cost them a hell of a lot more than what they think they’re going to get.”
Beau stalked over and jabbed a finger at him. “You will do no such thing.” Two could do that growly thing.
Dante’s eyes widened and his mouth opened, but nothing came out at first. “Bullshit. I will not allow that to happen.”
“And that’s why they call you the fucking Beast.” Beau was going to do this his way. “The Center serves the entire community. We don’t turn people away, and over the years, since well before I arrived, we’ve helped many hundreds of people. The entire community needs to be behind us, and without them, it would be you deciding what everyone needs. I won’t have that. At worst we’ll have to find another building, and we may ask for your help then, but this is our fight and we need to be the ones going to battle.”
Dante crossed his arms over his chest. “You know that isn’t necessary. I can shut this whole thing down.”
“Of course I do. But that isn’t the way we should be doing things. The town has relied on you and the Foundation for everything. When we wanted a new community pool, they asked you. Beautification project, they came to you. The town needs to fight for what they feel is important, not what you think they should have.”
Dante shook his head, scowling. “But this is a stupid idea. Did you find out why they’re even considering selling?”
Beau nodded. “The mayor said the building was nearing the end of its life, and I have to agree. We have a ton of maintenance and repair issues every year. The town pays for a lot of those. I don’t want to have to find a new space. This one is configured well for us. We would need to put some money into renovations, but we could develop a capital campaign for that.”
“Why do you have to do things the hard way?” Dante practically bellowed.
“Because it’s the right way,” Beau countered. “You know you don’t like it when people in town refer to you as the Beast, but you’re acting pretty beastly at the moment. Give the people here a chance instead of just swooping in to make the decisions for them. I’m not saying you can’t voice your opinion, but that’s all.” Beau pressed his finger to Dante’s chest. “No opening your wallet or making phone calls to pressure folks. That will make them resent the project and your influence.”
Dante didn’t look convinced. “Okay…,” he agreed, obviously reluctant.
“Good. Now, there are some things I think I need to know about what happened and why Harper hates you so much, because apparently the rumor is that he wants the building because he saw you with me.” Beau paused. “Look, I can see him having issues with you, and even us. I mean, you were married to his sister, she’s gone now, and you’re dating a man. He could lash out somehow, and maybe that’s what he’s doing with the building purchase offer, but I keep thinking there’s more to it. And right now, you’re the only person who might know.”
Dante’s expression didn’t soften. “I had already decided to tell you what happened. Do you want me to tell you now?”
“No. I’ll come to your house after I’m done here.” Beau figured it would be better if Dante was comfortable in his surroundings. “This isn’t a death sentence, you know.” Though Beau would have thought so from Dante’s pained expression.
“Have you ever been the cause of someone else’s death?” Dante asked with all the seriousness of a funeral director.
“I don’t think so.”
“Then it’s hard for you to understand how I feel. I know what I did and what it did to Allison. I have no illusions about that. But still, talking about it is difficult.”
Beau nodded. He understood that. “But getting it off your chest could be exactly what you need.” He slowly sat in one of the slightly ragged visitor chairs, and Dante sat in the other. They were so very close, and usually when Dante was this near to him, his temperature rose. “You can’t deal with the pain and guilt on your own. You need to let it out so you can work through it.”
“Is that what you tell your clients?” Dante sounded skeptical.
“Sometimes. What I do isn’t a one-size-fits-all kind of thing. Some people need to talk, and others just need a safe place so they can start to heal. Still others, like the kids you worked with, want attention and a chance to be kids. It’s always different, and part of my job is to try to assess what each person might need and how I can try to reach them.” Beau met Dante’s gaze. “Like with you, every instinct I have is telling me that your story and what happened is pounding at your insides, trying to get out, and you’re holding it in so hard that it takes a lot of your energy. That isn’t a way for anyone to live.”
“You have me all figured out, don’t you?” Damn, Dante could be snide when he wanted.
Beau scoffed slightly. “It wasn’t hard. You cut part of yourself off and then stayed mostly locked away in that mansion of yours. You shut away what happened with Allison just the same way as you shut yourself away. Our outsides often show what’s going on deep inside us, no matter how much we might try to hide it.”
Dante didn’t dispute him, which Beau thought was a kind of victory in itself. “Okay. Come over after work.”
“And talk to Harriet when you get home. Tell her that you and I are cooking dinner tonight.” Beau nearly smiled as Dante raised his dark eyebrows. Sometimes he was adorably cute, especially when he wasn’t intending to be. “I know that’s her domain, but I’m not sitting in that huge dining room, eating at one end of that twelve-foot table like we’re in a scene from some Vincent Price horror movie.”
Dante rolled his eyes, and Beau stood, leaning over Dante’s seat, hands on the arm of the chair.
“Cooking is intimate, or it can be. It isn’t just making food. It’s textural and sensory, just like what you and I do in bed.” He leaned a little closer, just catching the hitch in Dante’s breath. “Is that okay?”
Dante nodded once.
“Good. Now I think you better go because I’m about to lean closer to kiss you, and once I do that, it’s just a step from tugging off that indecently sexy shirt. And if that happens… well, let’s just say that sex on a desk might be something they show in porn, but I don’t think it’s what I really want to give a try. Especially on this old thing. I might get splinters in my butt, or the danged desk could collapse altogether. Angie would race in here, and I have no intention of letting her see my naked ass on the floor—or yours, for that matter.” He leaned just a little closer and then backed away. “I’ll see you tonight.”
God, Beau loved it when he left Dante speechless. It didn’t happen all that often, but when it did, it was pretty special. Beau figured that Dante had thought he’d be quiet and just let him take the lead. That wasn’t Beau’s style.
Dante stood, and Beau opened the office door. He shuffled out and into the corridor in a slight daze. “You’re serious about cooking?” he finally asked.
“Sure.” Beau smiled, and Dante left. Beau went back to work, picking up the papers on his desk before setting them back down, breaking into peals of laughter. If the rest of the town knew what a softie Dante could be sometimes….
“What’s so funny?” Angie asked, hurrying into the office. “Are you okay? He looked… weird when he left.”
“I’m just fine. Now, are we ready for the council meeting?”
“I think so. You need to finish up what you want to say, and as long as the people who promised to support us make an appearance, we should be able to give them a real show of force.”
Beau grinned as a thought occurred to him. “Do you know who would be likely to run against our beloved mayor in the next election? Other than Jerry Hansen? Maybe contact them and make sure they’re at the meeting. That would certainly put on some pressure.”
Angie rubbed her hands together with glee. “Let me put out some feelers. I love making the mayor sweat through his shirts. Somehow we need to stop this.”
“We both know the town well enough to know that while they say they’ll help us find a new location, there aren’t any around that will work. And even if we found one, we’d have to shut down for months while it was renovated to meet what we need… and where is that money supposed to come from?” Beau was already regretting turning down Dante’s help—a little, anyway. But he knew he was right. Without community support, the Center didn’t matter much.
“I tried looking through town, and the only place that might fit was an old factory building, but it would take more money than we’d ever get to make it useful,” Angie said, clearly just as concerned as he was.
“Our best chance is to end this now… at that meeting. So work the phones as best you can, and I’m going to finish drafting my remarks.” That was, if he could think straight.
Once Angie left and he tried to get down to work, the words refused to flow. He stared at what he had and tried to think of what he wanted to say, but his head kept returning to Dante and what he could have to tell him. Finally he managed to push Dante out of his head just long enough to finish a coherent draft of his remarks, and then after his final session of the day, he left the Center and went home, where he changed clothes and then got a few things at the store on his drive to Dante’s. He rang the bell and was surprised when Dante answered the door himself. “Where’s Roberts?” Beau asked as he stepped inside.
“I gave the staff the night off. They deserved some time away from this pile—”
“And that way you wouldn’t have to tell Harriet that we planned to use her kitchen.” Beau grinned. “I see how it is.”
Dante growled under his breath for a second, then rolled his eyes. “I told her we were making our own dinner, and she wasn’t too happy until I said that you would be doing most of the cooking. She agreed, apparently because she thought it less likely that you’d set the place on fire.” He quirked his lips slightly.
“You didn’t….”
“I wanted cookies once, so I made some. Well, I put the frozen-dough kind in the oven. I forgot about them until the entire kitchen filled with black smoke.” Dante wasn’t laughing.
“You were a kid.” At least that’s what it sounded like.
“That was last year. I was trying to prove to Harriet that I wasn’t a complete menace in the kitchen and ended up making a huge mess. I haven’t been allowed in there, unsupervised, since. And to tell the truth, Harriet is too amazing a cook to piss off. So I abide by what she wants.”
Beau grinned. “A man will do just about anything to keep his belly full.” He leaned close, and Dante kissed him gently before stepping away. “Why don’t you lead me to this kitchen so I can put down these groceries and learn where everything is.”
Dante closed the door and guided him through to the back of the house and into what could only be described as a gourmet paradise. The counters were granite, with professional stainless-steel appliances and work surfaces. Beau set down the grocery bags and slowly opened each of the cupboards. The kitchen was impeccably organized, with everything exactly where it was needed.
“What are we having?” Dante peered into one of the bags.
“I thought some pasta with pesto and chicken, a Caesar salad, and fruit for dessert. Nothing fancy or too messy, but something we can make ourselves.” Beau got out a pot to boil water for the pasta and put the lettuce and salad things on the cutting board. He figured Dante could help with the salad without making too much fuss. Beau found a bowl and placed it near the cutting board, along with a knife.
“Is this what you want me to do?”
“Can you cut the lettuce and talk at the same time?” Beau teased.
Dante didn’t smile as Beau made room for him, unpacked the rest of the ingredients, and got out a pan to cook off the chicken. He remained quiet, hoping Dante would want to fill the silence.
“I think I told you that I knew Allison for a long time. She was my best friend for a while and knew I was gay.” Dante made a few cuts through the lettuce and then his knife stilled. “She was, like, one of the first people I ever told. And things were good. I was in college, Dartmouth, and Allison stayed here in town. She went to a local college, and I saw her whenever I came home.” He kept halting and would cut the lettuce a little more and then stop. The faraway look told Beau that Dante was remembering old times, good ones, at the moment.
“When I came home from college after graduating, the plan was for me to work in the business. I’d done that growing up, and now Dad wanted to groom me to take over for him. That had always been the plan, but he had decided that he wanted me to get married. He wasn’t going to let me inherit until I did.” Dante brought the knife down hard, splitting the romaine with a solid blow. “Dad never could get used to the fact that I wasn’t going to marry a woman and have children. He wanted the line to continue, and that meant I had to get married.” Dante’s hand shook, and Beau gently reached over, took the knife away, and set it on the side of the cutting board. Maybe sharp implements weren’t such a good idea right now.
“I’m fine.” Dante picked up the knife once again and returned to his talk while Beau seasoned the chicken and put it in the pan.
“You don’t look fine,” Beau commented gently. He was concerned, especially by the way Dante gripped the knife so hard, his knuckles turned white.
“I wanted my inheritance because I had ideas for the factory. I wanted to restart the artist line. My grandfather had discontinued it, but I knew there was a market for high-quality items as long as they had a more modern feel to them, and I was right.” Dante returned to the lettuce, and Beau turned the chicken, letting it continue to brown. He also got the pot of water on for the pasta. “There was no one I wanted to marry. I’m gay and I knew it. So I approached Allison. She hadn’t dated anyone in a while, and I knew we got along. She was also struggling under her student loan debt. I figured we’d get married, I could take care of her debts, and after a few years, we’d divorce and move on. I never promised her undying love, but I loved her. She was the closest friend I had at that time, and I thought we’d get along.”
Beau had stopped what he was doing to watch Dante raptly.
“I was rather surprised when she told me yes.” Dante set down the knife, leaning on the counter.
“She agreed to marry you, knowing you were gay?” Beau asked, checking on the chicken and turning it off to finish cooking through.
“Yeah. She wanted to get away from her mother and father, who had been putting a lot of pressure on her to go to law school. It wasn’t something she really wanted, but did to please them, and her family was thrilled at the prospect of the two of us getting married. I didn’t tout my sexual orientation, but they all probably thought I’d changed and Allison didn’t tell them differently.” Dante hung his head. “Looking back, that decision was probably the stupidest thing I have ever done in my life. It cost me my best friend, and I’ll never get her back.” He gripped the edge of the counter, closing his eyes.
Beau walked to where he stood and slid his arms around his waist, resting gently against his back. “It’s all right.”
Dante whipped around, and Beau nearly lost his balance. “No, it isn’t.”
“Did you lie to her? Did you make promises you didn’t keep?” Beau asked, staring at Dante, who shook his head slowly. “Did you hold a gun to her head or hurt her physically? Did you murder her?” He had to use those words, harsh as they were, in order to get through to him.
“Of course not,” Dante answered.
“Then what happened and why do you think you’re responsible for her death?” Beau had to get to the bottom of this. The guilt had weighed on Dante long enough, and he needed to be able to deal with it in the open.
“About a year after we were married…. No, I need to go back further. After we married, I tried my best to be a good husband to her. We traveled and saw a lot of the world. It was so much fun, and we laughed a lot. It seemed like we were going to be happy.”
“But that didn’t last very long?” Beau asked, and Dante turned away.
“No. We shared a bedroom and slept beside each other, but that was all. I didn’t touch her that way because I wasn’t interested, and I didn’t think she was interested in me that way. I liked having someone to sleep with and having company at night. But after a year or so, Allison grew quiet and began withdrawing. Then my dad passed away, and she grew more and more morose. I took her to a doctor, and they diagnosed her with depression and gave her medication for it. She seemed to get better for a little while after that.”
“Did you ever talk to her about getting the divorce so you could each live your lives?”
Dante took a deep breath. “No, I didn’t…. She was so down and depressed, and it got worse all the time. I didn’t want her to be alone, so I never brought it up. I had brought this mess into our lives, and I tried to do what I could to help her. She got quieter and often tried to initiate sex between the two of us. It wasn’t something I was interested in, but she kept trying, and eventually I moved to the room next door. I think that was some kind of last straw, because she got even quieter and more withdrawn. There were times when she’d stay in her room, in bed, for days at a time. Then she’d come out and act normal, and even happy, for a while, but then the depression would return once more.”
“Did you get her help?”
“Yes. I tried, but she fought me on it over and over again. I hired doctors and brought them to the house, but she’d often refuse to see them. My hands were tied, and all I wanted was to have my best friend back.”
“Through all of this, you stuck by her?” Beau asked.
“We rode this roller coaster for months, and then in the spring, I had gone away on business for a few days. I had to go. When I got back, she met me at the door, smiling, almost giddy, and said she had something to show me. There was excitement, maybe euphoria, in her eyes. The doctors had told me that the depression could come and go. I asked if she was bipolar, but they didn’t think so. She pulled me upstairs, to her room, and pushed me down on the bed. Allison was like a ravenous beast, determined to get what she wanted from me.
“‘I want to have a baby,’ she told me, and it seemed that night she was determined to start the process. I wasn’t interested. After all I’d been through trying to help her, and our years of friendship, being with her… like that… wasn’t going to work.” Dante lifted his gaze, and his eyes radiated pain, deep and enduring. “I loved her, but not that way. And I think my rejection sent her over the edge.”
Beau took the knife from Dante’s fingers and placed it on the counter. He was shaking, and the strong man Beau had come to know seemed as vulnerable as one of the kids he worked with. But he wasn’t fooled. This door to Dante’s vulnerability wasn’t going to stay open for long. The walls were still there, just pushed aside. They’d snap back quickly.
“What happened to her?” Beau asked just above a whisper, taking Dante’s hands. He needed to maintain as much of a connection with him as possible, as he could feel the resistance building. “Will you show me?”
Dante hesitated, then moved out of the room. Beau held his hand, refusing to let go of him, as Dante led him through the dining room to the ballroom, which was the last place he expected to be taken. The furniture and chandeliers were still draped and the curtains drawn, casting the room with an eerie pall. Light filtered in from breaks in the curtains, illuminating dust motes in shades of red and sunset gold.
“It was late in the day, and I was coming back from work. The house was quiet, silent, and I wondered if something was wrong. No one greeted me, which was strange. Roberts hadn’t come to work for me yet. My father’s man, Clifton, held that post. I climbed the first stairs to change and heard music that led me to the back of the house.” Dante walked almost silently through the room. “Allison was in here, wearing a dress I’d never seen before. It was like she was going to a ball herself. The lights were on and the room was filled with music. But when she looked at me, her eyes were vacant, as though she wasn’t really there.”
Dante closed his eyes. “I asked her what was going on, and she said that she was having a party. Then she walked over, glass in hand. I wondered how much she’d been drinking. Her wine sloshed in the glass, and she drank what she had before extending her arm. It was like she thought she was handing the glass to someone. It fell to the floor, shattering, and I took Allison’s hand. ‘Let’s get you upstairs,’ I said. I led her out of the room.” Tears welled in Dante’s eyes as Beau let him lead him back into the hall. “I knew something was very wrong. I guided her up the stairs to put her to bed, but at the top, she started fighting me, thrashing and scratching like I was hurting her, but I barely touched her. She screamed at me that I had ruined her. That she loved me and that I had never loved her, not the way she should have been loved.” Dante’s breath came in gasps as his gaze lifted to the top of the staircase.
“She fell, didn’t she?” Beau could almost see it, with Dante staring and shaking.
“Yes. People in town think I pushed her, but I never did. I tried to save her. She hit me, and all I was trying to do was get her to bed. I was going to call the doctor. I lifted her off her feet to carry her to the bedroom, but she thrashed so much, I had to put her down. She screamed that I was going to rape her, hit me, and raced away. I swear she leaped the railing like a gazelle.” Tears streaked down Dante’s cheeks. “I don’t think she realized where she was until she screamed as she flew over the railing right there and knew it was too late. She landed on the floor near where we’re standing.”
“You never pushed her and only tried to help her,” Beau said.
“Of course I did.” Dante’s voice echoed sharply in the large room. “But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t the cause of her death. I should have told my father to go to hell. Instead, I married her and made her miserable.” Dante pulled away from him. “What happened was my fault. I should have given her what she needed. I should have….” He waved his hand helplessly.
“What should you have done?” Beau looked up at the spot Allison had fallen from. “Not married her, probably. But she knew the arrangement before you got married. Right?”
“Yes. I never lied to her.”
“And when you realized there was something wrong, you tried to get help. You even stayed by her when she became withdrawn and erratic.” Beau sighed. He’d seen those signs so many times. “Allison was mentally ill. She had a disease. Depression isn’t bad moods or being grumpy. It’s a medical condition that neither of you could help. It’s a disease, the same as cancer or the flu. It isn’t a moral failing or something Allison brought on herself. It also isn’t anything you did to her or could have saved her from.” Beau gently stroked Dante’s cheek. Alcohol was also a depressant, and that could very well have made things worse for Allison.
“But I brought this all on.”
Beau shook his head. “No, you didn’t. She most likely had clinical depression before you were ever married. She was ill. Did the two of you make decisions that might have been bad for her? Probably. But you aren’t responsible for her death. The police cleared you, and you let everyone in town think you had hurt her.”
“I did. I hurt Allison badly.” Dante blinked the tears out of his eyes and slowly stood up a little straighter. “I have to live with that for the rest of my life. I was selfish and did what my father wanted, and it ultimately cost Allison her life. I can never change that, no matter how much I might want to.”
Beau took Dante’s hand, drawing him out of the hallway and slowly through the rooms to the kitchen. He’d seen the shadows of this in Dante’s behavior and knew there had been something very traumatic in his past. As a substance-abuse counselor, he knew the signs of families of addicts, but he also knew that the families of those with mental illness went through many of the same challenges. And God knew Dante had been through a lot, compounded by guilt—piles of guilt.
“Come on. I need you to finish up the salad so I can make the rest of dinner.” Beau turned on the heat under the water and got the pasta going once again, then cut up the chicken into bite-sized pieces.
“What do I do now?” Dante asked. “I don’t feel any different.”
“Unlike in the movies or on television, you don’t have some sort of epiphany and then the sun comes out and all is right with the world. It doesn’t happen like that. You confided what happened, and I can tell you that she took her own life.”
“I know that. I’ve always known that. But it doesn’t mean I’m….” Dante huffed and finished with the lettuce, transferring it to a bowl. Beau pulled out the croutons and handed Dante a tomato and a small onion. “These don’t go in Caesar.”
“I like them. Cut the onion up really fine, and the tomato is firm enough for small pieces. It adds a little something other than lettuce to the salad. I have some cheese too, and I brought some of my homemade dressing.” Beau pulled the jar out of the bag. “We don’t need to dress it until we’re ready to eat, though.”
Dante went back to work while Beau put the pasta in to cook. “Her family doesn’t know…,” Dante said.
Beau stirred the pasta and lifted his gaze. “Doesn’t know what?” he asked, a little confused.
“That she took her own life. I doubt she planned it, but her family believes that suicide is a fast trip to hell, so they think it was an accident, which they still blame me for. I can live with that as long as they accept that Allison is at peace now. At least I hope she is.” Dante wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
Beau wanted to help Dante so badly, but years of guilt weren’t going to be erased in a matter of hours. But the way Dante took responsibility and sheltered Allison’s family through this made Beau love him even more. Dante was willing to take whatever the town and even Allison’s family thought of him in order to protect Allison’s memory. That kind of man needed to be treasured, not vilified.
Beau made up the pesto sauce with his own basil pesto, a little cream, and some pine nuts for crunch. Then he drained the pasta, sauced it, added the chicken, and stirred it all together. “Go ahead and mix everything in the bowl and add some of the Caesar dressing. Not too much—we can always add some more.” Beau finished up his dish and watched Dante. Then he found some plates and bowls and dished everything up before heading to the table near the window.
“I never eat in here.”
“It’s nice, and that dining room is fine for a dinner party of twelve, but not for just the two of us.” He set down the plates and found some cutlery. Then he went in search of glasses before checking out the refrigerator. Wine wasn’t something either of them needed at the moment, but he found a pitcher of iced tea and poured two large glasses before bringing them to the table.
“This is great,” Dante said around a mouthful of pasta. “You’ll have to tell Harriet how you made it.”
“I bet she already knows what to do. This isn’t all that special. If you ask her for it, I’m sure she’ll make it for you any time.” Beau reached across the table to take Dante’s hand. “You need to relax.”
“I keep thinking about Allison.”
Beau blew out his breath between his teeth. “Guilt is a useless emotion. It changes nothing and keeps us locked in the past. You have to let it go.”
“I don’t know how.” Dante took another bite, and Beau wished he could take away the pain Dante carried with him, but he wasn’t a miracle worker. “I try not to think about it all the time.”
“Letting go isn’t forgetting what happened. It’s letting yourself realize that you weren’t responsible for Allison’s death. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, and an accident is an accident. Life is such that someone isn’t responsible for everything. Sometimes shit happens.”
Dante rolled his eyes. “You’re just full of platitudes tonight, aren’t you?”
Beau swallowed a bite of salad. “It made you smile.”
Dante shook his head. “Bastard.”
“Come on. You don’t want to be miserable—I can tell. You want to let this go, but you’ve been hanging on to this guilt for so long, it’s become a part of you. But guilt and pain aren’t who you are. You also aren’t this Beast persona that others have labeled you with.”
“Then who am I?” Dante asked the question with all seriousness.
“You’re who you want to be. Your dad tried to foist his vision of you as his son off on the world and superimpose it on you. It’s what he did, and you allowed him to do it. Your dad is gone, and now you need to decide who you are. Not who the town thinks you are, or Allison’s family… anyone.”
Dante sighed. “Shit, you never have easy questions with quick answers, do you?”
“Nope.” Beau took another bite of pasta. “But seeing yourself through the hard questions to the difficult answers usually ends in a meaningful result. Easy questions with quick answers are forgotten just as fast.” He continued eating. “Don’t expect things to change overnight, and I hate to say it, but they might not change at all. I don’t know. But you’ve told me what happened….”
“Yes…?”
“You notice that I didn’t run away or call you a Beast or any other names.” Beau lifted his eyebrows as he held his fork above his plate.
“But maybe you should have. What if…?”
Beau chuckled. “What are you afraid is going to happen?”
“I don’t know,” Dante confessed.
Hearing that tone was disconcerting. Beau would much rather have Dante growl and storm through the kitchen. This resigned and almost cowed Dante wasn’t the man he’d come to know or wanted to see. Part of what attracted him to Dante was his strength and the way he held his head high in the face of everyone else’s derision. Dante had a backbone of steel, and Beau hated to see him like this.
“Then deal with what happens when it comes.” Beau returned to his dinner, eating slowly, watching Dante as he seemed to process what Beau was trying to tell him. It wasn’t long before all the pasta and salad were gone. The events of the evening hadn’t dulled Dante’s appetite, which Beau took as a good thing.
“What do you want to do now?”
“I need to clean up so Harriet doesn’t lock me out of the kitchen.” Beau squeezed Dante’s hand. “I like this kitchen. It’s a dream to work in.” He smiled, and eventually Dante did the same. Beau wasn’t under the illusion that the years of guilt and shame were gone, but he hoped he’d been able to lighten Dante’s burden somewhat. “I’ll get the fruit, and we can take it in and watch a movie or something.” He didn’t think jumping into bed was a good idea at the moment. His body was keen on the idea, but his head told him to take it slow. Dante had been through a great deal by reliving what happened with Allison.
Dante stood, took the plates, and set them on the counter. He opened the door of the dishwasher, staring inside. “I have to confess, I don’t really know what to do.”
Beau chuckled and cleared the rest of the dishes. He pulled out the racks and loaded the plates inside. “It’s not that hard.”
“But which buttons do you press to start it?” Dante stared at the various settings once Beau closed the door.
“I think we can leave that for Harriet. She’ll know it best.” Beau opened the refrigerator door, pulled out the berries he’d cleaned, and then followed Dante out of the kitchen and through to a small room off Dante’s office where he had a television. “This house is so huge.”
“I know. I swear there are places I’ve yet to discover.” Dante settled on the comfortable older dark plaid sofa, and Beau sat next to him.
“Are you all right?” Beau scooted closer so Dante could wrap his arms around him. He liked the security of Dante’s embrace. How could people think the things of him that they did? If only they could get to know him, none of that would be possible.
“Yes, I think so. Nothing I can do to help Allison now.” Dante breathed gently into Beau’s ear. It wasn’t sexy, just gentle.
“You still care for her and remember the friendship and the good things you had.”
“Of course.”
“Then that’s all you can do. You protected her family from what would hurt them even more than losing their daughter. None of us will ever know if Allison meant to hurt herself or not.”
“I like to think it was an accident. I don’t really know. She was so angry at me and herself that night. I think things had gone too far for her, and….” Dante swallowed. “She said she wanted to have a baby, and I almost took her to bed, because I wanted one too. I probably could have closed my eyes or something… and given her what she said she wanted….” Dante tugged him closer, shaking slightly.
“That wouldn’t have changed anything. You have to know that. Things with Allison, for herself, were getting out of control. Only medical help would do any good, and if she was fighting it, there are limited things that you could have done. People have to want and be willing to accept help before anything meaningful can happen. I know you blame yourself for all of this, but Allison has to shoulder a lot of the blame herself.” Beau met his gaze.
“What makes you say that?”
“Allison agreed to marry you. Why? She knew you were gay, and then, after some time, she’s trying to change the arrangement, wanting children, things she had to know weren’t going to happen. Why?” Beau leaned back so Dante could see him plainly. “What was Allison hoping to get?”
“Security?” Dante answered. “A better life?”
“You really don’t know, do you?”
Dante shook his head. “She wasn’t dating at the time, and she and I had been spending a lot of time together.”
“Do you think she was in love with you?” Beau asked. Dante gasped, stilled, and remained quiet for far longer than Beau expected. “Do you think she fell in love with you before your marriage, and she accepted because she thought that over time you’d grow to love her the way she loved you?”
Dante nodded. “It makes sense now. She… I remember the way she used to look at me when she was unguarded. I didn’t think about it then, but I remember those looks. It was as though she were longing for something, wishing…. How could I have been so stupid?” He pulled Beau to him, burying his face against his shoulder. Dante was crying… and the Beast was dead. At least Beau hoped so.