DANTE WOKE in the middle of the night, alone. Sometimes jet lag really stunk, like when he wanted to sleep and woke up at strange hours. He and Beau had watched a movie and then gone to bed. Thankfully, Beau never mentioned the way he’d nearly lost it. The wave of hurt that had overtaken him had easily crested his defenses and he hadn’t been able to hold it in. Beau had sat with him, silent, and once it passed, they watched Mel Brooks’ The Producers, the original movie. It felt good to laugh, even if his eyes still held the last vestiges of tears. Laughter was something that had been absent from his life for a long time.
He listened for any indication that Beau was in the bathroom, but heard nothing. Beau’s side of the bed was cool, so he’d left some time earlier. Dante felt a growl rising in his throat. Had Beau left him after all? Dante had spent years convincing himself that he didn’t need anyone, had finally let down his guard, and now Beau was gone. Dante hated the thought that he’d been left alone once more.
A creak from outside the door caught his attention. Dante pushed back the covers, turning on the soft light next to the bed. He yanked on his robe and pulled the door open the rest of the way. A sliver of light from Allison’s room led him there. That room had been closed up since her death. No one went in, except maybe the housekeeper a few times a year. He hadn’t been in there since her death. He had simply closed it up and left it that way.
“What are you doing?” Dante barked more loudly than he intended.
Beau squeaked from where he knelt near the side of the bed. “I was curious and couldn’t sleep.” He got to his feet, his robe partially open.
For a second Dante forgot his anger, enthralled by the wide slice of visible golden skin. He shook his head to clear it. “So you decided to rummage through Allison’s things?” He put his hands on his hips, glaring at Beau before his gaze drifted to the bathroom door, where the light was also on. “Is this how you usually behave?” His hands balled into fists before he could stop them.
“Dante,” Beau said gently but without remorse. There was steel underlying the softness. “You told me what happened, but I wanted to see if there was anything that Allison could tell us.”
Dante narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“This is her room, right?” Beau sounded so fucking logical, and Dante’s heart raced with aggression and anger.
“Of course it is.”
“And from the look of things, no one has been in here since she died? It certainly doesn’t look like anyone has been in here.”
Dante took a look at the thick coat of dust and realized his assumption was wrong. Even the housekeepers Roberts employed had left the room alone. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling down to the tops of the heavy velvet curtains, which had been drawn closed. He could tell what Beau had touched simply by the marks in the dust. “No. I closed the room after she died and didn’t come in here. What does that have to do with you snooping through the house?”
Beau walked over to him. “This is where Allison would keep her things, and anything private, maybe containing her thoughts, would be in here. Sometimes mentally ill people believe they’re the ones who are sane and everyone else is wrong. To help prove it, they sometimes write things down. I’ve helped people who have filled dozens of notebooks. I was hoping to find something that would help explain to you what Allison was thinking and maybe give you some peace.”
And just like that, Dante’s anger faded. Fuck it all, Beau had been trying to help him. “Huh….”
Beau placed his hands on Dante’s shoulders. “You’re so used to everyone seeing the bad side of you and being on your own that you don’t believe anyone would want to help you.” Beau’s huge, beautiful eyes cut right through Dante’s aggression, and it melted away like snow in July. He lowered his gaze, and Beau touched his chin. “Never forget that I see you for who you are. I have never seen the Beast. I’ve always seen Dante, and it’s time the rest of the world and this crazy town does the same.”
“It is?” Dante managed those few words before his mouth went dry. How could he argue with Beau when he was the object of such intensity? He’d been angry, and in those seconds, Beau had looked at him as though he were some sort of god that Beau wanted to eat for lunch, in the hottest way possible. Dante had thought that he had things together, that he knew his place in life, and that he could be content with that. He’d never been so wrong in his life. There was no way in hell he could live without this man standing in front of him.
“Yes. You are not a beast.” Beau walked to the bathroom door and turned out the light. Then he switched off the one next to the bed, plunging the room into near total darkness. Taking Dante’s hand, he led him back to his bedroom.
“I’m not?” Dante asked as they walked.
“No. You’re a person, just like anyone else, and this… our lives aren’t a fairy tale.” Beau chuckled. “Besides, if you’re the Beast, well… we both sure as hell know that I’m no Beauty.”
Dante disagreed vehemently with what Beau had just said. He closed the bedroom door once they were inside, went to the corner of the room, and spun the cheval mirror so it faced them. “Come here.” He tugged Beau in front of him, turning him toward the mirror, and slipped the robe off his shoulders.
“I told you,” Beau whispered as they both looked at his reflection. “The scars make me look… well, you see them. You know I’ll never be anyone’s Beauty.” Beau turned and undid the knot in the belt of Dante’s robe, sliding it off his shoulders. “Sometimes I wish you could see what I do.” He stepped to the side. “You’re the one who’s beautiful.” He ran his fingers lightly down Dante’s chest, creating a trail of fire in their wake.
Dante rotated Beau around, pressed his chest to Beau’s back, his cock sliding along his perfect butt, and wrapped his arms around Beau’s waist. He kissed Beau’s neck, then lifted his gaze to the mirror. In the low light, Beau’s golden skin glowed and the scars faded before his eyes. “You are a beauty. It glows from inside you. I can see that—I think maybe I always have.” Dante didn’t turn away, blinking as all he saw was the most incredible man he had ever met. There were no scars, only gentleness and caring. “It’s what’s on the inside that counts.” Dante held Beau closer, heat building from deep inside, bursting out wherever Beau touched him.
“What are you saying?” Beau asked.
“I may be a beast, but I’m your Beast, just like you’re my Beauty. The other half of me.” Dante had never felt as content or quite as complete before.
Beau turned just enough to catch Dante’s lips. Dante skimmed his fingers gently over Beau’s delicate throat, then cupped his jaw as he kissed him deeper. Dante ran his tongue over the seam of Beau’s lips, not able to get enough of him.
“How about you endeavor to be only my Beast and no one else’s, then?” Beau said. “Let everyone else see the man you truly are, and you be my Beast in bed. Because that’s where I like him best.” Beau ground his butt into him, and Dante tried like hell to stifle a deep growl, failing miserably.
Beau laughed, and Dante turned him around and hoisted him into his arms, stalking toward the bed. “You’re being a fucking tease.”
“I am not,” Beau argued. “I fully intend to put out, but not before I drive the beast inside you crazy.” He grinned evilly.
“You already have.” Dante set Beau on the bed with a bounce and stalked onto the mattress, coming to the end of his patience. He kissed him as his hands roamed over Beau’s golden skin. He wanted all of him at the same time, his entire body thrumming with each beat of his heart, control already slipping away. Beau held him, his own fingers exploring, and when Beau lightly pinched a nipple, Dante reared up, hissing in exquisite delight. Beau followed him, sucking the lightly abused nipple between his lips, teasing him until Dante could hardly see straight. “You’re playing with fire.”
“No, I think that’s you.” Beau grinned up at him, and Dante cupped his cheeks, holding him still so he could feast on Beau’s full, already swollen lips. He knew Beau was right. Beau was pure fire, and Dante would play with him for the rest of his life if Beau would have him.
“Damn,” Dante breathed. He could feel the heat and wanted even more. He tugged Beau to him, pressing their bodies together, hips rocking slowly on their own, instinct taking over.
Beau stretched, and Dante heard the drawer beside the bed slide open. “You have to have some of the damn things, and….” He groaned and pressed a condom packet into his hand. “That’s what I want.”
Dante’s head spun a minute. Beau gazed at him, all heat and need, sending Dante into flight. He hadn’t thought anyone could ever want him. He’d only thought that he was broken and that his chances at happiness had been used up or thrown away, and here Beau was, offering him something he’d never even hoped to get.
“Are you sure I’m good enough?” Dante had to know if this was real.
“I knew that night I first saw you at the benefit.” Beau wrapped his arms around his neck, drawing him downward, but Dante held still.
“How could you?” Dante asked, his lips inches from Beau’s, looking for something deep in Beau’s eyes.
“I don’t know. I just did. You were the infamous Dante Bartholomew, and you could have spoken to anyone in the room, but you spent most of your time with Bobby and then me. I saw your pain, and….” Beau paused. “Then you looked at me and the pain receded. There was happiness in its place. Not for long, but it was there. The real Dante lay under all that pain and guilt, and whether you meant to or not, you let me see him.”
Dante swallowed as the last of the walls around his heart crashed to rubble. The roar of their collapse sounded in his ears—or maybe that was the beating of his heart coming alive again after so long. Dante wasn’t sure which it was. Maybe it was both.
“Make love to me,” Beau said softly, but he could have shouted it from the rooftops. The effect on Dante was instant.
“Why don’t you make love to me?” Dante asked as he swallowed hard.
Beau stilled under him, brushing his hand over Dante’s forehead, looking deep into his eyes. “Because you’re about to freak out any second. And that’s not what I like.” Beau kissed him, sending another wave of fire rushing through Dante. “I want you to be happy, and you being in charge, driving me full force to the moon and back, is exactly what I want.”
“But I don’t want to be selfish, and….” His head spun again. Dante had never offered himself in that way to anyone, and he’d done it because he wanted to show Beau how much he cared and how important Beau was to him. It shocked Dante that Beau could read him so well already to know that wasn’t really part of him.
Beau grinned. “Fucking me from here to eternity isn’t being selfish—it’s giving of yourself… over and over again. So let’s get with the giving, because I sure as hell need it. You promised me the Beast, and I want him.”
Dante growled, and Beau tightened his legs around Dante’s waist, inflaming him, leaving Dante no doubt that what he’d said was the truth.
“I asked before and I’ll say it again. Make love to me, Dante.” Beau’s eyes had shifted to the deepest blue, and they drew him in. Dante brushed his forehead, leaning even closer, half afraid he’d tumble into those huge eyes and never come out again. He closed the final distance between them, kissing Beau as he arched under him.
Breathless, Dante saw spots when he pulled away once again. He fished for the packet he’d dropped on the bedding and found it without too much difficulty. Dante ripped it open and prepared himself and then Beau before taking his position once again. This time when he kissed Beau, he gasped against his lips as Beau’s pressure and heat surrounded him.
Beau sucked on Dante’s lip, holding him tighter, shuddering slightly as they slowly joined more completely. Dante didn’t want to hurt Beau at all. This was about joy and happiness, things that had been missing from his life for a long time.
“You are my Beauty,” Dante whispered as Beau gripped his entire length.
“So full,” Beau groaned, then slowly rocked back and forth. It was just enough for Dante to understand Beau’s preferred pace, and he picked up his timing, holding Beau closely to him. Dante listened for the hitches in Beau’s breath. They told him when he’d touched Beau just right, and when the breaths became shallow, Dante knew he was driving Beau toward his release. He wanted to hear it, see it, even smell the tang of it.
“That’s it. Show me what I do to you.” Dante gasped as energy built inside him to the point of near bursting. He watched and listened to Beau, determined to hold off.
“What are you whispering?” Beau asked as he took Dante deep.
“Unsexy things so I don’t come too soon,” Dante admitted. He needed to keep his control for a little while longer, and that seemed to be doing the trick. Of course, Beau’s laughter had the same effect, until it shifted to soft moans of delight. Dante cut off those sounds with his lips on Beau’s, drinking in the sweetness and passion. He was so incredible. Dante adored every inch of him. He ran his hands along Beau’s chest, the now familiar lines and bumps only adding to his pleasure because they were uniquely Beau, his Beau… his Beauty.
Beau was the only person who had tried to look beneath the walls he’d put up. Somehow Beau had seen to the heart of him when Dante hadn’t even known what was there. He loved him, and Beau needed to know it. So Dante showed him in the way he knew how. When Dante threw his head back, squeezing his eyes closed because he was so close, Beau cried out, shuddering beneath him, clamping hard onto Dante’s cock, his release spilling between them.
He sent Dante over the edge in seconds, ears ringing, flashes behind his eyes. Dante had always thought that the whole fireworks thing during sex was some sort of metaphor, but it was real. Small points of light danced across his vision. Dante stilled and let the warmth and tingling of release wash over him.
Beau pulled him close, and Dante’s arms gave out. He held Beau tight, shuddering slightly through the effects of afterglow. This was where he was supposed to be. This felt right. For the first time in his life, this was perfection for him.
Beau ran his thumbs under Dante’s eyes. “There’s no need for tears. This is a happy time.”
Dante nodded, leaving his eyes closed. He rarely cried. In his whole life, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d cried for anything. Hell, even after Allison’s death, when his life and the decisions he’d made closed around him, he hadn’t cried. “I don’t understand why.”
“Maybe it’s for the times when they wouldn’t come.” Beau wrapped his arms around him, and Dante rested on top of him, Beau’s heat reaching bone-deep, soul-deep, warming Dante in a way he never thought possible. “It’s all right.”
“I did love Allison in a way, but not at all like I love you.” Dante clutched Beau and let that realization wash over him like rain. He was in love. This was what true love felt like.
“I love you too, Beast and all…,” Beau told him, and they shared another kiss that Dante felt to the depths of his soul.
WHEN HE woke again, Dante was alone once more.
Beau sat in the chair at the foot of the bed, reading. “Finally. I didn’t want to wake you up.” He put the book aside and stretched his arms over his head. Then he stood and stalked over to the bed like a cat eyeing its prey. Beau’s robe fell open and he slithered out of it, letting the dark blue fabric fall to the floor.
Music played from somewhere in the pile of clothing on the other chair, and Beau huffed for a second before continuing toward the bed. “It can go to voicemail. You’re more important.” Beau leaped and Dante caught him. They laughed together as heat built instantly between them. The phone rang again, and Beau groaned, then huffed as he climbed off the bed. “This had better be really good.” He searched through the clothes, his butt wagging a little as he bent over.
Dante sat up, enjoying the view as Beau found his phone and silenced the infernal ringing. He hated that ringtone, which sounded like the blaring phone from his childhood.
“Angie? What’s going on?” Beau said, sounding so chipper, and turned. They shared a brief smile, and then Dante watched as it slipped from Beau’s face. His eyes clouded and his mouth opened in surprise and near horror.
Dante pushed back the covers, got out of the bed, and hurried to him. In the few seconds it took to reach him, Beau had turned completely pale.
“Is anyone inside?” He shivered, and Dante took him in his arms. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but whatever it was had scared Beau to his core. “I’ll be right there.” Beau clutched his phone as he leaned on Dante. “Yeah. Do whatever you need, though word is going to spread quickly. Help them as best you can. I’m on my way.” Beau hung up and met Dante’s gaze. “The Center is on fire.”
Dante kept his thoughts clear. “Okay. You get dressed.” He set Beau on the chair and pulled open the bedroom door. “Roberts!” He closed the door and yanked clothes out of his dresser.
A soft knock announced their reinforcements. “Sir.”
Dante glanced at Beau, who had his pants on. “Come in.” Dante stepped into a pair of jeans as the door opened. “I need the car around front right away. If Juan isn’t available, then you’ll need to do it. The Community Center is on fire, and Beau and I need to get down there.” He turned away and pulled his shirt on. Dante never heard the door close or anything other than Beau’s groan of despair.
“It’s gone.”
“Finish dressing and we’ll be on our way.” Dante pressed some clean socks into Beau’s hand and sat on the edge of the bed. He was dressed and ready, helping Beau, who seemed in shock. When he was clothed, Dante guided him down the stairs and right out the front door to the limousine. Roberts was behind the wheel as they climbed in, and as soon as the door shut, they took off at a speed faster than Dante thought possible in the land yacht.
They could only get so close before they were stopped by barricades. Beau got out, and Dante hurried to follow him.
“Sir. I’m sorry, but you can’t get any closer,” a uniformed officer told them.
Dante stepped forward. “He’s the director of the Center, and you sure as hell know who I am.” He actually growled, and the officer blinked. “Now, let us through.” He allowed his tone to make the threat that there would be hell to pay, and the officer stood aside. Dante put an arm around Beau to help ensure he stayed upright, and they approached where Angie stood with a small group of others.
As soon as Angie saw Beau, she pulled him into a hug, and the two of them stood together, crying against each other’s shoulder. Dante turned and saw Mayor Grant standing a few paces away, watching. Dante looked at the building just as the roof collapsed, sending a flare of sparks and smoke into the air.
“Tragic.”
Somehow Dante wasn’t convinced by the mayor’s tone, given his eagerness to sell the property. “I’m sure you think so. Looks like you’ll get your way.”
“I’m not happy about this!” Mayor Grant snapped, losing his usual politician’s smarmy cool.
“Your Honor,” the fire captain said as he approached. Beau moved to stand next to him, and Dante automatically put his arm around him.
“Peter, what’s going on?” Dante asked. He wasn’t going to wait while Mayor Grant played politics. He didn’t have the patience.
“Mr. Bartholomew.”
“This is Beau Clarity, the Center’s director. What can you tell us?”
Peter turned to Beau. “Was anything stored in the building? Particularly anything flammable?”
“God, no. There were things in the basement when I took over, but those were cleaned out. We’re a health facility, and we help children as well as adults. I didn’t want anything that could be a danger in the building. Why?”
“We turned off the gas service as soon as we arrived. We were told that no one was inside, so after confirming, we wet the fire from the outside. Five minutes later something exploded, sending a rush through the center of the building. I was hoping you could tell us what that might be.”
“Nothing that we kept inside. The most explosive thing in there would be Angie’s coffee. There was nothing flammable, and the only chemicals we had were a few cleaning supplies. And I only got organic, water-based cleaners because some of our kids have allergies. Since we helped people with substance-abuse issues, there was nothing inside that would tempt any of them at all. Nothing alcohol- or ether-based. Not even a bottle of cough syrup. Nothing,” Beau said, adamant. “It was a 100 percent safe environment in that regard.”
Peter nodded and made some notes. “I thought the fire was behaving suspiciously, but that helps confirm it.”
“You mean it was deliberate,” Dante said for clarification.
“It looks that way. An empty building, even one of this age, will burn, but the fire will spread in an almost predictable way and time. This fire spread fast and hot. It was fueled most likely by an accelerant.” Peter turned as a hiss went up from the building and the flames began to die. Streams of water made paths into the now-hollow shell.
Dante turned to Mayor Grant. “Know anything that could help?”
Mayor Grant looked at Beau. “My office and the council members have been getting letters and calls from numerous citizens for days. Dozens of people have stopped me on the street to tell me what your Center has done for them.” He definitely appeared sheepish. “I don’t think the sale was going to be approved.”
“Was anyone specifically notified of this change in enthusiasm?” Dante asked, already beginning to understand what the answer was going to be. “Did you notify anyone?” He let the authority ring in his voice.
“I might have told Bledsoe that he needed to back off. At least for a while.”
What a slimy piece of crap. Withdraw the offer now and live to fight another day when the climate might have changed. It’s what Dante might have done if the shoe were on the other foot. Still, it was a shitty thing to do with a town asset that was being used for the benefit of the community.
“And now, with this….” Dante motioned to the still-burning ruin. “What do you think the council will do?” He raised his eyebrows.
Mayor Grant blanched. “If they decide to rebuild with the insurance money, then the Center will get a whole new facility.” He glanced at Beau.
“He was with me all night, so don’t even go there.” Dante stepped closer. “You may have made yourself a party to arson, Mayor. I suggest you think on that very carefully and take the appropriate action before the good citizens of this town decide to take it for you. The sale Harper wanted was going to fall through, you told him so, and now the building goes up in flames. It doesn’t take a huge leap of faith to see who might be the one to gain from it.”
“I had no idea he’d set fire to the place… or if he even did.”
“Maybe, but I will be speaking to the police so they can investigate.” Dante glared at him. “Just to be clear, the state police will be called.” The mayor and the police chief were too close, in Dante’s opinion. “Now, I suggest you go on home and mull over whatever future you think you might have.” It was time the town had new leadership anyway. Fresh ideas were needed, and Mayor Grant was about as far from anything fresh and new as it was possible to get.
Dante turned away and found Beau still watching the Center burn.
“What are we going to do?”
“Find temporary facilities. No one was hurt, and it was just a building. The important components of the Center, the people, are still here and available. But right now, we need to get you back home. There isn’t anything either you or Angie can do. The police and fire officials need to do their jobs.” Dante turned Beau away from the building and back to where Angie had wandered.
“Well…?” she asked.
“No matter what we were hoping for, we’ll have to find temporary housing for the Center now. The kids and everyone we help are going to be so upset.” Beau clung to Dante. “I had such plans.”
“They can still come to pass.”
Beau shook his head. “Are you kidding? Most organizations fold over something like this. Insurance doesn’t cover all the costs of rebuilding, and the town is going to get the money, not us. We’ll get some for our contents, but that’s it. Then the board needs to allocate the money for the Center, and it’s too easy to send it somewhere else. So basically the Center ends up in the waste bin because the money is too good not to mess with.” Beau slumped his shoulders, sounding defeated. “It’s hard enough to get or keep a program like ours running, let alone make it come back from a loss of the building. That’s why I was fighting so hard to stay where we were.” He shivered, and Dante gently guided him back toward where Roberts had parked the car.
A crash rumbled from behind them, and Dante shielded Beau automatically as the outer front wall of the building collapsed inward, bringing the rest of the outer shell down on the interior. Beau took it like a blow.
“Angie, do you need a ride or anything?” Dante asked, but she shook her head, not looking away from the smoldering ruin.
“I’ll be fine.” She didn’t move, and Beau hurried to Angie and carefully tugged her over to the car.
“She lives just a block away.”
Both of them looked heartbroken. Dante opened the car door and let Beau guide Angie inside. Then he got in as well, and Roberts glided away from the scene. Dante had never been so eager to leave something behind as he was the scene of that fire. Angie and Beau hung on to each other, and Dante hated to admit that he was jealous. He wanted Beau’s attention.
“It’ll be all right. We’ll figure things out,” Beau told her with no conviction behind his words. He gave Roberts directions, and when they pulled up in front of Angie’s small house, Dante let her out. She half trudged up the walk and into the house like her world had come crashing down along with those brick walls.
Beau settled next to him, curling on the seat, and Dante gathered him close. “What do you want me to do?” Dante asked. “I can make sure you have the finances and the location to rebuild. You know that. I can put pressure on the council to make sure they don’t touch a cent of the insurance money and only use it to rebuild. I can make my own donation to start the ball rolling.” He stroked Beau’s soft hair. “What do you want?” He had never cared so much about what someone else wanted in his life as he did right at that moment.
“I want to find out who did this and make them pay. Those kids…. They’re going to be heartbroken.” Beau stayed still, and Dante knew it wasn’t the kids who were hurting, but the man in his arms. Beau lifted his head. “It was that Bledsoe guy, wasn’t it? Allison’s brother? He wasn’t going to get the property as it was and wanted to tear the building down anyway, so now he gets what he wanted.”
“We don’t know that or have any proof.”
“Then get it. You asked what I want. Get me that. Find out who hated us so much that they burned down a mental health center.” Tears glistened in Beau’s eyes, and Dante pulled him closer. There were some things in his control, but getting people to confess to a crime wasn’t in his wheelhouse. He knew that, and so did Beau. This was the grief and anger of loss, and Dante held him as Beau fell quiet. “I’m sorry.”
“We will figure things out.” Dante had no doubt they would, but right now he needed to get Beau back to the house. The professionals needed to do their jobs, and then Dante would get some of his people on the problem of helping Beau figure out a temporary location for the Center.
The car glided into the drive and then up to the house. Dante got out of the car and helped Beau inside and down to the kitchen.
“I heard what happened,” Harriet said, opening the refrigerator and pulling things out. From the looks of things, she was getting ready to feed an army, but within minutes she had the entire kitchen smelling of onions and peppers, then placed a plate with one of her fluffy omelets in front of each of them.
Harriet could be described as a rather tiny woman in her early forties, but she was a force to be reckoned with. She also had a heart of gold and showed love with food. It was one of the things that had helped him get through the loss of Allison.
“Thank you.” Beau shared a smile with her, and she patted his shoulder.
“You’re a sweetheart.” She turned to Dante. “Don’t let this one get away.”
Dante smiled. “You like him because he used your kitchen and didn’t make a mess.”
“Unlike some people I could name,” Harriet groused, though Dante knew it was an act.
“Is he really that bad?” Beau asked.
Harriet scowled. “Did he tell you about the cookies?”
Beau nodded.
“That man is a menace in the kitchen. He could burn water.” Her lips softened to a gentle smile. “Don’t tell him, but he’s the best employer I’ve ever had. I just don’t want him to get a big head.” Harriet winked at him and went back to work.
“What are you making?” Dante asked as she pulled out a large bowl and a container of flour.
“Cookies. I figure you’ll need them later. I’ll bring some to you once they’re finished.”
Dante was grateful, and he ate his omelet quietly, watching as Beau picked at his, eating a little, his lips narrow with worry.
“I’m sorry for being… I don’t know….”
The wind had been knocked out of his sails, and Dante would give anything to have them full again. He knew it was too soon, and Beau needed a chance to grieve and try to figure out what he was going to do.
Dante finished eating, and once Beau was done, they thanked Harriet and Dante carefully led Beau to the sitting room.
“I’m going to make some calls. Is that okay? If you need me, I’ll be in my office.” He turned on the television and made sure Beau was comfortable, then went into the office and picked up the phone. “Yates,” Dante said as soon as he answered.
“Dante, what can I do for you?”
“I need you to get in touch with the Foundation board. We need to find a new location for the Community Center. The building burned down this morning. The authorities believe the fire was set on purpose. They’re looking into it, but the staff will need temporary facilities. See what you can come up with. Their old building was about five thousand square feet or so. Mostly it was activity rooms, as well as smaller spaces for counseling sessions and things like that. It doesn’t have to be perfect because it will be temporary.”
“And the cost…?”
“Get the Foundation to approve it.” Dante wasn’t going to argue about it. “Our mission is to help the community, and this is a lot more important than some beautification project.” The mayor’s comment still stuck in his craw.
“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with a certain blue-eyed man who runs the Center, does it?” Yates sounded amused, and Dante growled deep in his throat. “Sorry. But I had to ask.”
“Why? Beau is a dear man, and he doesn’t deserve to be the subject of rumor and speculation.” They could say what they wanted about him, but no one was going to disparage Beau.
Yates cleared his throat. “I’ll get right on it.”
“Good. And contact the state police while you’re at it. Ask them to send someone here to look into the fire and what’s going on. The mayor had his hand in this deal to sell the building that housed the Center, and I’m not sure that he and the police chief are capable of keeping their personal agendas out of any investigation.” Dante was willing to use his connections to make sure the people in authority behaved the way they should.
“You got it.”
“Thanks.” Dante ended the call and looked to the door, where Beau leaned on the frame, then came inside.
“You don’t quit, do you?” he said, sounding angry.
Dante stood and walked to him. “No. I’m a man of action. My lawyer is looking into potential temporary locations for you. Once he has something, you can see if they’ll fit your basic needs. I know they won’t be perfect, but we’ll get the Center up and running again.” He enfolded Beau into his arms. “I know this has been a shitty day, but we’ll figure it out and get through it.” He had to try to make things better for Beau. He held him tight, and after a few seconds, Beau looked up at him, smiling.
“I always knew this man was inside you.”
“I thought you might be angry with me,” Dante whispered. Sometimes he had to admit that his instincts with others were crap.
“Why would I be?” Beau snuggled against him, his voice muffled against Dante’s shirt.
“Because you didn’t want me stepping in before.”
Beau lifted his face and rolled his eyes dramatically. “That was when we were trying to save the Center and show the board that it had community support. It needed the community behind it—it still does—but now it’s going to need a champion, and I can see that’s what it has in you… in us.”
“It does.” Though Dante had to admit that if Beau had asked him to champion the cause of feeding blind lab rats, he’d do it as long as it made Beau happy. “What else do we need to do?”
“I don’t know. I need to call some of our volunteers and let them know what’s going on.” Beau’s phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket.
“You have to get a different ringtone. That one drives me crazy,” Dante said of the loud, jarring, old-fashioned telephone ring. “Maybe harps or something.” After all, Beau was angelic in Dante’s eyes. He turned away, wondering when he’d become such a sap. Not that he cared in the least. He was a sap in love, and that was all that mattered.
Beau nodded and answered the call. Dante provided him the courtesy of not listening in as he answered questions from one of his people. He didn’t know anything right now, but Dante loved how gentle he was with them, even after call after call, answering what had to be the same questions again and again. Dante continued working; just being in the same room with Beau was good enough.
When his phone rang, he answered it quietly.
“Mr. Bartholomew?” a rather official-sounding voice said.
“Yes.”
“I’m Officer Howard with the Maryland State Police. I received word to call you.”
“Thank you,” Dante said, then explained what had happened. “I know this is unusual, but the mayor, and by extension the police chief, are too close to this with their own agendas. All I’m asking is that someone watch them so they follow the rules and do their jobs. Besides, we don’t have the fire investigative tools available to us that your department does.”
“You really believe this fire was arson?” Officer Howard asked.
“The fire captain thought so because of the explosion and how quickly the building burned. He thought an accelerant was at play. But we’re a small town without the resources and expertise of larger cities. I’d appreciate your help.”
“That isn’t a problem. I’m stationed in St. George, and I’ll be able to come over and have a look around to see if I can provide any assistance.”
“If you have questions for me or the director of the facility, you can reach either of us at this number.” He wasn’t going to hide the fact that he and Beau were involved. “At the moment Beau has been on the phone to his volunteers and some of the people he serves to try to reassure them. We are already working to find a temporary location.”
“All right. I’ll look into what I can find and see if there is anything we can do to help.” It was a standard answer, but Dante felt better that the chief of police, who reported to the mayor, would feel some pressure to do what was right rather than what was politically expedient for his boss.
“Thank you.” Dante ended the call, wondering what else he could do to help. His phone rang again, this time from the porcelain works, and he spent the next few hours on the phone taking care of normal business. By the time he was through, Dante was hungry. Beau had spent just as much time on the phone and looked exhausted.
Roberts came in with a light lunch, and they ate between additional phone calls.
Near the end of the day, Roberts knocked on the office door. “Sir, there’s someone here for you. It’s a police officer.”
“Thank you.” Dante stood and went to meet him, with Beau right behind him. Judging by the uniform and then the name emblazoned on his chest, this was Officer Howard. “I’m Dante Bartholomew, and this is Beau Clarity. Thank you for agreeing to help us.”
“You’re welcome.” Officer Howard took off his hat, and Dante motioned toward the office. “Thank you.”
“Would you like anything?” Roberts asked as they entered. “Coffee perhaps?”
“That would be nice, Roberts. Thank you,” Dante answered, anxious to find out what Officer Howard had for them.
Officer Howard didn’t waste any time. After sitting, he opened his notebook and said, “An hour ago we issued and executed an arrest warrant.”
“Harper Bledsoe?” Dante asked.
“Yes. He didn’t set fire to the building himself. He paid some indigent people to do it. I think he expected that, once they got inside, they’d be caught in the fire. As near as we could tell, all of the doors were locked.” Officer Howard paused when Roberts brought in a tray and then began again once he left the room. “The two men were very drunk when we caught up to them. They were able to identify Bledsoe and explained that he paid them in a case of liquor, which they immediately began consuming, at first for Dutch courage and then because of what they’d done.”
“Why would he do that?”
“It’s what we’re hoping to get from him. But our theory is that he got them inside and then locked them in the building. His plan was that they wouldn’t get out, and no one would question or miss them once the fire had killed them. The two men discovered the locked doors and climbed out one of the back windows before hitting their stash of booze once again.” Officer Howard closed his notebook. “It’s lucky they’re both loudmouth drunks and couldn’t keep quiet. They were behind the gift shop on Main, sitting next to the building, singing and laughing in a drunken stupor about what they’d done and how they were going to get the guy who locked them in.”
“I guess stupid criminal tricks are real,” Beau said gently.
“They really are.” Officer Howard stood. “I’ll let you know once we have the suspect in custody, but we have a good case, and once these men sober up, they’ll be able to provide us with additional information, I’m sure.” He tipped his head and placed his hat back on before walking out of the office. Dante heard Roberts in the hall and knew he’d see him out.
“This is such a mess,” Beau said quietly. “My head hurts.”
Dante locked his computer and stood to go to Beau. He seemed so tired. Dante lifted him off his feet, Beau resting his head on his chest, and Dante carried him up the stairs to lay Beau on his bed. He looked perfect there, and Dante hoped more than anything that he’d see Beau in his bed more and more often, hopefully on a permanent basis. But it was hard for him to let go of the guilt with what had happened to Allison and now all of this. How could one decision, made years ago, have led to all of this chaos and loss?
He turned to leave, but Beau caught his hand, holding it. “I know what you’re thinking.” Beau brought Dante’s hand to his cheek. “I can hear that brain of yours churning.”
“You do, huh?” Dante said gently, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Yes. Somewhere in that brain of yours, you’re making the humongous logical leap that Harper’s actions are because of what you did with Allison.”
Dante swore under his breath.
Beau chuckled. “I have really good hearing. Harper made his own decisions and took his own actions for his own reasons. He could have walked away at any time, but he didn’t. Harper let his rage and anger consume him and cloud his judgment. None of that is on you.” Beau lifted his head off the pillow. “I’m cold. Would you come over here and warm me up?”
Dante kicked off his shoes, climbed onto the bed, and slid up next to Beau.
THEY NAPPED a little, and Roberts knocked on the door at dinnertime. They had a light dinner in the bedroom and stayed curled up together.
Yates called late in the evening to say that he had a few possible organizations that were willing to donate space on a temporary basis for the Center.
“That was quick,” Dante whispered as Beau rested next to him, eyes closed. Dante hoped he was asleep.
“I have some connections. I’m not sure if they will suit and we can look further, but I will send over the information, and you can have Beau look it over in the morning.”
“Thank you.” Dante lightly stroked Beau’s hair. “The state police officer stopped by the house, and they have a good handle on what happened. Things seem to be happening fast.”
“Good. I’ll be in touch in the morning.” Yates ended the call, and Dante set his phone on the nightstand, leaning against the headboard, watching a rerun of The Big Bang Theory on low volume.
“We should sleep,” Beau told him quietly once Dante had turned out the lights.
“Just lie still for a while.” Dante wasn’t all that sleepy, and with Beau pressed against him, he was comfortable and warm. It was nice having someone in bed with him. Making love was one thing, but just being together, Beau putting himself in Dante’s hands, was almost more intimate.
Dante watched the rest of the episode, and then they cleaned up and got ready for bed. He let Beau go first, and by the time Dante was done and rejoined Beau in the bedroom, Beau lay on his side, curled up under the covers, only his hair visible, snoring softly.
Dante padded around the bed, turned out the light, and then slid under the covers. Beau moved closer and then stilled, not waking at all. It was a little heady caring for someone this much, longing just to lie next to them in bed. It pleased him and terrified him at the same time. Dante wanted to accept that things between them were good. Everything he knew about relationships told him they were doing well. He trusted Beau, and Beau really seemed to trust him in return. It was almost too good to be true, which was about the time that everything went to hell.