by Sue Brown
“You’re finished, Calminster,” Barrett blustered. “We had a deal. If you don’t marry Sabrina, I’ll make sure you regret it.”
“Did you just threaten Lord Calminster?” Dale asked, speaking for the first time. “He told you to get the fuck out of here.”
“Who the hell are you? Are you the fag boyfriend? I don’t care if he’s fucking you as long as he marries Sabrina and gets her knocked up.”
Ben saw the fury on Dale’s face. Barrett couldn’t have said anything guaranteed to make Dale angrier. In the short time he’d known Dale, Ben had come to understand how raw Dale had been left by his ex’s cheating with a woman. The last thing he needed was for Thomas Barrett to realize he’d struck a nerve.
“Get out, Barrett.”
Dale took a step toward Barrett, who seemed to realize he was out-firemanned as he flinched back. As tall as Barrett was, Dale was a good few inches taller and twice his bulk, and with that expression on his face he was fucking menacing—and yes, Ben did thrill to Dale’s caveman act.
Still, Barrett had to have the final word. “You haven’t heard the last of this, Calminster.”
Dale loomed again, and Barrett took a step backward; then, thankfully, he left, Colson at his back. Through the door, Ben could see the security men flanking Barrett.
That left him and Dale in the room alone. Ben dragged in a shaky breath. “Well, that was new.”
Dale’s jaw was clenched tight and his hands balled into fists. “Can he do you damage?”
“Possibly.” As Dale narrowed his eyes, Ben shrugged. “If Barrett meddles in the boardroom, he could cause me serious problems. I’ll need to talk to Sabrina.”
“Do it now,” Dale said. “I can wait.”
Ben nodded, then tilted his head. “Kiss me first?”
Dale seemed to understand it was a plea, not a demand, and he stepped into Ben’s space. He laid a large, warm hand on Ben’s jaw and kissed him. The kiss started gently, but Ben didn’t need tender; he needed hard and demanding to release the tension of frustration and anger in him. Ben made a noise in the back of his throat and pressed up against Dale, who tangled one hand in Ben’s hair and the other on his arse, holding Ben firmly where he wanted him. Their tongues entwined and explored, a slight taste of mint in Dale’s mouth. Ben reveled in being held tightly, never wanting to be let go. He rubbed up against Dale’s body, feeling an answering bulge pressing against his stomach.
A polite cough interrupted him. “Your lordship?”
“Yes?” Ben snapped, keeping a soothing hand on Dale because judging from the thunderous expression on Dale’s face, he was ready to snap Colson like a twig for disturbing them.
“Ms. Barrett’s on the phone. I thought you might want to talk to her.”
Ben huffed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, thank you. Do you mind?”
“You need to talk to her,” Dale said, although he seemed to make an effort not to snap.
“I’ll bring more coffee,” Colson said and beat a hasty retreat.
“I’m sorry.” Ben picked up the phone on his desk.
“You’d better make it up to me later.” Dale slumped into an armchair.
“I will, I promise.” Ben pressed the button. “Sabrina. Just the person I want to talk to.”
“So how angry was my father when your fireman threw him out?”
“How do you…? He didn’t….” Sabrina chuckled, and Ben realized she’d been winding him up. “Ha-ha, very funny.”
“I wish I’d been there.”
“Your father’s going to cause trouble with the other board members.”
“I know,” she said calmly. “I’m ready for him.”
Ben felt some of his tension ease at her calmness. He didn’t know if she was as good as she said she was, but he was prepared to trust her. “Make sure you talk to Freely. He’s the biggest shareholder apart from your father. If anyone’s going to support him, it’ll be Freely.”
“Relax, Ben. I can handle my father.”
“Thanks, Sabrina.” Ben smiled at Dale, who grinned back. He seemed more relaxed now.
Colson knocked once and came in with a tray of coffee and the dogs. Frankie jumped up on Dale’s lap. Ben was pleased to see Dale didn’t mind at all.
“I’ve got to go, Sabrina.”
“Go and play with your boy,” Sabrina said. “I’ll go put out the fires my father’s bound to start.”
Ben disconnected the call and joined Colson and Dale. “Sabrina is on the case.”
“You have the best ex ever.” Dale slurped his coffee.
“She is pretty good. Thank you, Colson.” Ben accepted his coffee. “Do you want to sit with us?”
Colson shook his head. “Mrs. Wilson is being discharged in a few days. I want to make sure the house is in order or she’ll be fussing.”
Once he left, Dale tangled his legs with Ben’s. “How’re you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” Ben said, sighing.
“You sure?”
Ben nodded. “Barrett’s going to cause me problems, but it’s business. I can deal with that. It’s much better than marrying his daughter for a business deal.”
“I can’t believe you actually contemplated going through with it.”
“Nor can I,” Ben confessed. “It just seemed easier.”
“Easier than what?” Dale asked.
“Finding a man willing to put up with me.”
Dale gave him a pseudo smile. “You mean it’s easier to do the white wedding, having kids, and perpetuating the family name with a woman.”
Ben immediately felt guilty, because of course that’s what he meant. “I’m expected to produce an heir.”
“Who’s your heir if you don’t have kids?”
“I’ve got a really nice cousin who lives in Australia. He’d be horrified if he inherited.”
“We can have kids,” Dale said.
Ben raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a bit premature? Anyway, the last time I checked, two dicks don’t make a baby.”
“What about adoption or surrogacy?”
“It just seems so….” Ben struggled to find the right word.
“Complicated?” Dale suggested.
“Complicated.”
“Is it worth it, though? You can be miserable with a woman or happy with a man. Or I guess there’s a third option.”
Ben frowned. “A third option?”
“Like Barrett said, you can marry a woman and have a man on the side.”
“But not you.”
Dale shook his head. “Not me.” His expression was bleak but resolute. “I don’t cheat—ever.”
Ben nodded once. He understood what Dale was trying to tell him. He could have Dale as his partner, but only if he was prepared to be open and honest about it.
“My sister offered to be my surrogate,” Dale said.
“Now?”
Dale chuckled. “I’m not talking right this second, but she and her husband offered if I ever found the right man—who wasn’t Baz. She hated him.”
“You mean I have to get the sister seal of approval?”
“Hell yes. She’s a nightmare.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Ben said drily.
“At least I gave you the warning. I could have let you meet her cold. Baz calls her the Pit Bull.”
Ben gave him an unfriendly stare. “I like pit bulls.”
“I like my sister.”
“I don’t think I’d like Baz.” Then Ben held his breath.
“He’s an arsehole,” Dale agreed. “Have we finished discussing my sister and ex-boyfriend now?”
“I think so. What do you want to do?”
Dale very deliberately put down his mug and held out his hand. Ben sat on the footstool beside Dale’s chair. Dale tilted his head as if he was considering how to kiss Ben; then he placed his mouth on Ben’s. The kiss started tender, and then, as before, the kiss got a little frantic.
Ben barely noticed Frankie, who jumped
off Dale’s lap in disgust and stalked away to his usual sleeping place under the desk.
The chemistry between Ben and Dale was incendiary, their hands all over each other clutching and pulling, until they were virtually humping each other.
Dale pulled back, gasping for air. Ben stayed where he was, sprawled over him. “Christ, I was planning a slow, quiet seduction.”
“You managed the seduction, but there’s nothing slow or quiet.” Instead he felt like they were an armful of dynamite just ready to explode. He had to kiss Dale again, licking out the taste of coffee and need.
Ben frowned as Dale lifted Ben off him and sat him back on the footstool. “What’s wrong?”
“We need to slow down.” Dale took a few deep breaths and put some space between them.
“Slow down? Why?” Ben knew he sounded incredulous and more than a shade whiny. Dale ran his hands through his hair. Ben wanted to smooth it down, but his body was still thrumming with arousal, while his head was struggling with Dale’s rejection.
Dale sat so Ben’s knees were between his, and he held Ben’s hands. “You’re really something, my Lord Calminster.”
“A good something or a bad something?”
“You’re amazing.” Dale’s smile was a little shaky, but Ben could see his sincerity.
Ben stroked his thumb over Dale’s wrist. “Why did you stop?”
“Because….” Dale shook his head. “A few weeks ago, I found my boyfriend screwing a woman in my bed on the day I intended to propose, and now you’re here and—”
“And you’re feeling vulnerable?” Ben nodded at Dale’s press of his lips. “It’s okay. I can wait for you to be ready.”
Dale’s hands tightened on his. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, although maybe we ought to keep our hands off each other.” Ben smirked wickedly at Dale. “Do you think you can do that?”
“I don’t know. You’re kind of addictive.” Dale looked a bit sheepish.
They both chuckled, and then Frankie jumped on Dale’s lap.
“You can’t have him,” Ben chided the small dog and went to push him on the floor, but Frankie yipped and settled down on Dale’s lap, encouraging Dale to pat him gently.
Ben huffed and flung himself into one of the armchairs across from Dale. From the triumphant expression on Frankie’s face, he obviously realized he’d won that round.
“You won the battle, but you’re not winning the war,” Ben informed the dog.
Dale scritched behind Frankie’s ears and Frankie closed his eyes, ignoring his frustrated owner.
Chapter Nine
DALE drove along the driveway to Calminster Hall as fast as he could, anxious to see Ben after four days on shift. It had been frustrating not to see him over the past few days, knowing he was just a couple of miles away. Dale had spent the time working, running, and sleeping, but he managed FaceTime with Ben every day, although it wasn’t as good as face-to-face.
As he pulled up, he spotted Ben on the stone steps with two men, a fixed smile on his face and his body language screaming out for rescue. Dale was just the man for the job. As he approached them, Dale saw one of the men lean into Ben’s space and wag his finger. It was all he could do not to wrench the man away from Ben.
“Just because you’ve got some fancy title doesn’t give you the right to throw me out of my house.”
Before Dale could intervene, Ben drew himself up and said, in a voice dripping with ice, “I own the house, Miller, and the job that you never turned up to. You think because you’ve lived in the house all your life that you can do whatever you like? I run a business, not a holiday home.”
“The old lord didn’t have a problem.”
“I’m not my father.”
“That’s bloody obvious, you pompous self-entitled po—”
“For God’s sake, Chaz, shut up.” The other man, who so far had just stood to one side looking embarrassed, finally intervened. “His lordship’s got a point. You’re never at work, and when you are, you’re always drunk.”
Miller turned on his friend so fast he swayed, and Dale realized he was probably drunk now. “You bastard!”
Before he could get any further, Ben said, “Go home, Miller. Getting arrested won’t help you find work or a new home. We’ll talk on Monday. Take him away before he makes an even bigger fool of himself.”
Chaz dragged his friend, who was still screaming slurred insults and making threats, past Dale.
When they finally disappeared into a battered old Fiesta and drove away, Ben gave Dale a weak grin. “You heard all that?”
Dale nodded. “You handled it well.”
“I’ve got experience,” Ben said wryly.
“I nearly thumped him.”
“Thanks for not intervening,” Ben said. “I need to handle Miller myself. He already thinks I’m weak.”
“He doesn’t know you at all.”
Ben tilted his head. “And you do?”
“Yeah,” Dale said. “I know you.” He watched the color fill Ben’s face and smiled with smug satisfaction.
Rather than say anything, Ben took the steps and opened the front door. Immediately, the three dogs rushed out to greet them. Dale patted and stroked them, assuring them all they were the best dogs in the world. Ben beamed at him for loving on his furry family and drew him into his arms for a quick kiss. Dale growled low in his throat, because he wanted more than a chaste kiss.
Ben placed a finger over Dale’s lips. “Come see Mrs. Wilson. She is anxious to thank you.”
“She got discharged today?”
“They couldn’t keep her in.” Ben gave a fond smile. “I swear that woman is made of Calminster stone.”
“She’s amazing,” Dale said. “I tell you, my heart plummeted when I saw her in the garden.”
“She doesn’t even remember the fire or the garden. Just making the toast and worrying about the cat.”
“What did happen to the cat?”
“Her neighbor’s got Sparkles for now. We’d have brought her here, but Frankie doesn’t play well with cats.”
Dale smirked. “Aren’t most cats twice the size of Frankie?”
Ben scowled at him. “Shhh, he doesn’t know that. He has a big-dog complex.”
“He don’t take no shit from anyone,” Dale agreed. “How is Mrs. Wilson?”
Ben sobered a little. “I think she’s still in shock. The full comprehension of what’s happened hasn’t really hit her yet. Sandra wants to take her back home with her, but Mrs. Wilson is determined to get back to work. She’s staying here at the Hall for a few days while we get a new cottage ready for her, and then we’ll play it by ear.”
“Come and take me to Mrs. Wilson,” Dale said, “and then I think you promised me dinner?”
Ben gave him a quick kiss and guided him to a room Dale had only seen in passing. There, Dale found what felt like most of the village gathered around Mrs. Wilson, who was sitting in a large armchair. She appeared—Dale sought a word—fragile. As if the trauma of the fire had knocked a large hole in her psyche. To Dale’s mind, the shock was just beginning to hit her. Mrs. Wilson smiled as she caught sight of Dale and held out her hand. Dale took her chilled, wrinkled hand in his and rubbed it gently. Then he got down to her level and asked her how she was feeling.
“I feel just fine,” Mrs. Wilson assured him. She must have caught sight of his skeptical expression, because she said, “The doctors say my lungs are fine, and I wasn’t burned. I just feel such a ninny for tripping over the cat.”
“That bloody cat is a menace.” The woman who spoke sat next to Mrs. Wilson and looked like a younger version of her, so Dale assumed this was Sandra.
Mrs. Wilson made a tutting noise. “Sparkles is a lovely cat.” From the various snorts, Dale gathered Mrs. Wilson was the only one who thought so, but Mrs. Wilson blithely ignored them all and addressed her remarks to Dale. “I think someone was taking care of me that day. You were guided to find me.”
Dale
had attended many fires, and most of the time, he didn’t see the aftermath and the effect on the people who had lost their world. Mrs. Wilson was indeed a remarkable woman to see such a positive outcome.
“I think so too. I was so relieved to find you safe and sound.”
She patted his hand. “Mr. Ben said he promised you dinner.”
“I’ve heard so much about your cooking.”
“I’m not really in the swing of things yet, but it will only take a couple of days, and Lisa’s holding the fort.” She grinned at her employer, who was a couple of steps away. “Take your young man away and feed him.”
Dale stiffened, not sure how Ben was going to take that. But when he risked a glance at Ben’s face, he realized Ben had missed it because he was talking to someone else.
Dale looked back at Mrs. Wilson. She stared at him calmly. “You know?”
“Of course I do,” she said. “I’ve known since he was a child.”
“You don’t mind?”
“I only mind if you hurt him.”
Dale squeezed her hand as gently as he could. “That’s not going to happen.”
Mrs. Wilson beamed at him again. “There’s no worry, then. Mr. Ben….”
“I hope you’ve not been giving away all my secrets, Mrs. Wilson.” Ben raised an eyebrow at her.
“Not yet,” she said. “Go and eat before the dinner is overcooked.”
“I’m in no rush.” Dale’s stomach rumbled, betraying him, making them all laugh.
“Come on,” Ben said. “I need food as well. I’ve not eaten since breakfast.”
“Oh, Mr. Ben.” Mrs. Wilson sounded disappointed in him.
“I was busy. I’ll make up for it now.”
“What about Mrs. Wilson and your guests?” Dale asked.
“It’s all been taken care of,” Ben assured him. “Colson and Lisa have been working flat out all afternoon to make sure there is plenty of food for everyone.”
Dale looked at him suspiciously. “I thought you were cooking for me?”
Ben shrugged. “It seems a little churlish to ignore their efforts, don’t you think?”
From down below, Mrs. Wilson snorted. “Mr. Ben promised to cook for you? It’ll be a cold day in hell before he uses a tin opener in my kitchen.”