by Sue Brown
Ben leaned back against the pillows and encouraged Dale to rest against him while they drank their tea. “It’s good to have you here. I miss you when you go home.”
Dale tended to stay overnight at the cottage while he was on his four days “on,” and then he’d spend most of his time at the Hall on his days off. “I miss you too.” His cottage was fine for his needs, but he’d not spent enough time in it to feel like home.
“You could stay here all the time.”
Dale tilted his head to gaze at Ben. “You’re asking me to move in with you?”
“Is it a bit soon?”
“Maybe. I’d have to think about it.”
Silence fell between them, but it didn’t feel odd to Dale. Ben had laid his cards on the table. Now it was up to Dale to think about it. He didn’t want to rush into anything, especially after Baz, but he wouldn’t dismiss the idea altogether.
Ben took Dale’s cup out of his hand when he’d finished and manhandled him until he could wrap himself around Dale. Dale wasn’t keen on being the little spoon. Still, it was nice to be taken care of once in a while.
“Are you tired?” Ben asked.
“Not too much now.”
“Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?” Ben caressed Dale’s hair.
Dale yawned again. “What makes you think something’s bothering me?”
Ben held Dale a little tighter. “You said something in the car.”
“I was asleep. What did I say?”
“You said ‘It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it.’”
“I’ve no idea.”
“Sure?” Ben seemed determined to get an answer.
Dale thought about it for a moment. “I guess it might have been a throwaway remark by Tank.”
“What did he say?”
“That the fires didn’t start until I joined the station.”
“What the hell?” Ben’s fingers tightened in Dale’s hair.
“He was joking.”
“He’d better be.” Ben sounded fierce, which made Dale smile, pleased at Ben’s passionate defense.
“You going to ride in like a white knight? Defend my honor?”
“If I have to.” Dale laughed and pushed back against Ben, who held him tighter. After a few minutes, when Dale was on the edge of sleep again, Ben whispered, “What if it’s one of us?”
That snapped Dale back to consciousness. “Starting the fires?”
“Yes. It’s got to be someone local.”
Dale rolled over onto his back, noticing the worried expression on Ben’s face. “The small fires are the sort of the thing teenagers get up to. They’re bored, think it’s a laugh to get the fire service involved. We have to come out no matter how big the fire.”
“But it’s constant since Mrs. Wilson’s fire?” Ben asked.
“It feels like it. I guess the village is usually quiet.”
“We had a spate of vandalism before, and once we had a murder.”
Dale stared at Ben. “No way! A murder?”
Ben gave him a wry smile. “Mark Jones. He was stabbed three years ago.”
“What the hell? Did you catch the guy?”
“Woman,” Ben corrected.
“He was murdered by a woman?”
“Tessa was his girlfriend. He’d promised her he would leave his wife, but he was stringing her along. He was drinking in the Shepherd’s Crook when she came in and stabbed him in the neck.”
“Fuck. Poor bloke.”
Ben shrugged. “I don’t have much sympathy for him.”
“That’s not like you.”
“I was at school with him. He was a dick then.”
“Did he bully you?”
“Sometimes. Most of the time he left me alone. His wife was devastated, first by the murder, and then finding out he’d been cheating on her.”
“Christ, it really is Midsomer Murders.”
“It’s just one murder in the last fifty years. I don’t think the police have a lot of excitement. I’m sure you saw more in your last job.”
“Some,” Dale admitted. “I’d be happy never to see another dead body.”
Some of the things Dale had seen haunted his dreams. He’d never needed to explain his nightmares to Baz because he’d seen the same horrors. Dale wasn’t ready to share his nightmares with Ben just yet.
Ben bent down and kissed him. “You’re a hero.”
“Bollocks! It’s my job.” Dale had been told this many times, but he never saw it like that. He was just doing his job.
“You’re a hero. My hero.” Ben kissed him again to emphasize his point.
Dale groaned into Ben’s mouth, enfolding Ben in his embrace. Ben could call him the Cookie Monster for all Dale cared. They kissed for a long time, but Dale had to admit in the end he was too tired to take things further.
“That’s okay,” Ben said as he switched off the bedside light and settled down with his head on Dale’s chest. “There’s always tomorrow.”
Dale was almost asleep when he felt Ben stroke his belly. “I’m not a dog, you know.”
“Huh?”
“You’re stroking my stomach.”
Ben chuckled, his breath warm against Dale’s skin. “I’ve got a thing for hairy bellies.”
“You’re just weird,” Dale murmured.
“I know.” Ben pressed a kiss into Dale’s chest and settled down again.
Dale smiled, unseen in the darkness. Weird was just fine with him.
Chapter Twelve
BEN sat at the long table at the front of the church hall, conscious of all eyes upon him. This wasn’t the first village meeting he’d held, and it wouldn’t be the last. He was joined by PC Dan Verne and the fire station commander, Lee Fang. The vicar of the local parish church sat on the end of the table. Ben had as little to do with Rosemary Taylor as he could manage, having discovered the woman’s homophobic tendencies. The previous vicar had been the most inclusive man Ben had ever known. The same, unfortunately, couldn’t be said for his replacement. Ben knew she was unaware why he avoided her. Maybe soon the reason would be in Rosemary’s face.
He watched as the hall slowly filled with the villagers, people shaking off the persistent evening rain as they came in the door. An array of damp umbrellas sat by the doors, waiting to be collected on the way out. Dale was already there, sitting at the back with Tank and Mick. The usual suspects took up the front rows, and the rest of the villagers filed in behind. Ben nodded at Mrs. Wilson and Mr. Hamilton, who walked in together with Mr. Colson. Ben would have liked Dale to sit by his side. He snorted to himself at the thought of Dale being introduced as his spouse to the village. Ben could imagine Dale running in horror, and he snorted again. Lee Fang glanced at him curiously.
“Hay fever,” Ben said, using the first excuse he could think of.
Fang nodded. “Ah. Allergies are a pain in the arse.”
Ben decided not to explain that he’d actually been thinking of someone he’d rather have in his arse.
When the hall was full, Rosemary stood and called everyone to attention. She had a penetrating voice that cut through the chatter, and soon the noise subsided. She looked over at Ben.
“Lord Calminster, do you want to start?”
Ben got to his feet. “Thank you, Reverend Taylor. Good evening, everyone. Thank you for coming out this evening. I know the weather is horrible. I hope this won’t take long.” He paused and looked to where Dale sat, his arms folded. Just Dale’s presence gave him strength. “We all know the number of fires in the village is escalating. I’m grateful we have a manned fire station on our doorstep.” Ben looked at Mr. Hamilton. “I’m so sorry about Bonnie, Mr. Hamilton.” There was a murmur of agreement among the crowd, and Mrs. Wilson patted the old man’s knee. Ben looked sternly at the crowd. “If this is the work of one person, it needs to stop right now, before someone gets hurt.” He didn’t believe for one moment that the arsonist was in the hall, but he hoped to appeal to anyone who might have informa
tion that could lead to their capture. The crowd stared back at him, and he sighed inwardly. “I’ll let PC Verne and Station Commander Fang take over with practical advice. In the meantime, my door is always open to anyone who wants to talk to me confidentially.”
Ben sat down and looked over at Dale, who sent him a smile. He spent the next hour making an effort to pay attention and not to stare at Dale the whole time, although he had a feeling he failed when he caught Colson rolling his eyes at him.
At the end of the meeting, he made his escape as quickly as he could, knowing people would relax once he left. Shivering in the cold night air, Ben walked out of the church grounds onto the green. He wasn’t sure what had happened to Dale until a shadow emerged from the darkness of the trees.
“I wondered where you’d got to,” Ben said as he walked toward Dale.
“I thought I’d go before anyone noticed.” Dale held out his hand to tug him closer. “You’re shivering.”
“It’s cold and raining, or haven’t you noticed?” Ben shuddered as raindrops ran down the back of his neck.
Dale brushed Ben’s lips. “I don’t notice anything when you’re around.”
Although the hall was full of people, Ben knew he and Dale were sufficiently sheltered, and he reached up for a kiss. Dale was passive for a moment, as if he was surprised; then he gave a low growl in his throat and hauled Ben against him. The sudden action made Ben stumble, and arms flailing, he fell into Dale, who landed on his back with Ben plastered atop him. Momentarily stunned, Ben lay on top of Dale, who hadn’t made a sound beside a grunt.
“There must be dryer places to do that.”
To Ben’s horror, those were the dry tones of Station Commander Fang. He looked up to discover Fang and Verne staring down at them.
“Oh fucking hell,” Dale gasped in his ear.
“I—I….” Ben scrambled off Dale and got to his feet.
Dale stayed where he was for a moment, and Ben started to worry he’d seriously hurt Dale when he grunted again. “Help me up?” Ben and Fang pulled Dale to his feet. He rubbed the small of his back. “I didn’t expect that to happen. You’re bloody heavy.”
“What did—no, I don’t want to know,” Verne muttered.
“What did you want?” Ben asked, grateful for the darkness covering his wildly flaming cheeks.
“Could we have a quick word, your lordship?” Fang said.
Dale had told Ben about his chat with the station commander about their “friendship.” Ben could only imagine how Dale must be feeling at this moment. He glanced at Dale, who stared at the ground, like he was praying for it to open up and swallow him.
“I’m going home for a hot shower and dry clothes. Give me a call later?” Dale raised an eyebrow at Ben.
“Yes, I will.” Ben watched Dale limp off toward his cottage and then realized Verne and Fang were still waiting for his attention. He took a steadying breath and smiled tightly at the men. “I’m sorry about that. What do you want to talk about?”
His brows knitted together, Fang stared after his retreating officer before he spoke again. “We just wanted to talk about the meeting.”
A WEEK later, Ben shivered as he crossed Charing Cross Road toward the station. For nearly the end of April, it was bloody cold, and he’d forgotten his thick jacket. He’d had two days of meetings with the shareholders of Calminster Enterprises, trying to put out the fires Barrett kept trying to start. Dale had promised to come with him; then at the last moment he got asked to cover shifts for a fire officer whose mother had died. Ben could hardly make a fuss, but he desperately missed Dale’s presence. They’d known each other for mere weeks, yet Ben felt like they’d known each other forever. At some point they were going to have to consummate the relationship. Between the arsonist and Ben’s business problems, the lack of time was putting a serious kink in their sex life.
He went through the ticket barrier, dodging a couple with huge wheeled suitcases and a group of students oblivious to anyone else but themselves. The tube station was crowded, as usual, but at least he was out of the wind. He was on his way to have lunch with Edmund Freely, his other major shareholder apart from Barrett, and an old friend of his father. Freely had been supportive since Ben’s father died, but that was when he thought Ben was going to marry Sabrina. Freely was old-school Catholic, and Barrett hadn’t hesitated in telling everyone why Ben had parted company with Sabrina. Most of the shareholders couldn’t care less where he dipped his wick—if only he was that lucky—as one of them phrased it, but Freely was another matter. He’d invited Ben to lunch—less an invite and more a summons—and made it plain it would be unwise to refuse.
Another blast of cold wind left Ben shivering as he walked down the road to the Freely & Sons office. He was about to step into the building when his phone vibrated in his pocket.
“Morning, babe.” Dale’s low growl made Ben shiver again but for an entirely different reason. “I’ve got a break, so I thought I’d call you.”
“Good timing,” Ben said. “I’ve just reached Freely’s.”
“How did the other meetings go?”
“All fine. One or two thought I was mad for dumping Sabrina, but when I said she was my lawyer now, they thought it was a much better relationship.”
“Your ex has got a reputation.”
“You have no idea.”
“When am I going to meet her?”
Ben rubbed his eyes. “Soon.” Never.
Dale chuckled. “You really don’t want me to meet Sabrina, do you?”
“You worked that out?”
“It’s going to happen eventually, Ben.”
“Eventually is a long while, my friend, and the longer the better.” The thought of Dale and Sabrina in the same room made Ben shudder every time he thought about it.
“Wuss!”
“I have no idea what you mean,” Ben said haughtily.
“You went all Lord Calminster there.”
“Huh!”
“It turns me on. Like when you laid into me about the pole.” Dale’s voice dropped an octave.
“It did?” Ben asked skeptically.
“Oh yeah. I still get a boner thinking about it.”
The last thing Ben needed was getting hard just at the thought of Dale getting a boner. “I’m going.”
“Is there a problem?” Dale snickered in his ear.
“I am not facing my deeply religious business partner with a hard-on.” A woman who had just left the building gave Ben a shocked glance. “And a woman overheard me talking about hard-ons.”
Dale burst out laughing.
“I’m glad you find it amusing,” Ben snapped.
“Oh come on, it is funny.”
Ben wasn’t in the mood to be coaxed. “No, it’s not.”
“It is. Just a little bit.”
“Maybe a bit,” Ben admitted. Then he caught sight of a clock in the reception. “I’ve got to go, Dale. I’ll call you when I’m out.”
“It’ll be fine. Just summon your inner lordship.”
“However did I manage before I met you?” Ben said, snark in his tone.
“I have no idea.”
“Go away!”
“You’re the one that has to go.”
Ben disconnected the call. “Heh! Watch me go.” Sometimes summoning a teenage girl was just as good.
The blast of hot air as Ben entered the building was welcome. He strode over to the reception.
A young man at the desk welcomed him to the building. “Good morning, sir. May I help you?”
“Ben Raleigh to see Mr. Freely,” Ben said.
“Lord Calminster, Mr. Freely is expecting you. Jessica will be down in a moment. Why don’t you take a seat over there?” The man indicated the sofas in one corner of the large lobby area.
Ben wasn’t surprised the man knew his title. He knew Freely well enough to be aware reception would have been briefed about his arrival. Freely owned the whole building, and the only companies that used the fl
oors were his in some way. Ben admired Freely, if not some of his practices for running his company. He hoped to be as successful, although he would never work in London. Ben was just as happy working from the countryside and making brief trips into the city.
He sat on the sofa as people scurried past the building. It had started to rain, and they kept their heads down against the inclement weather.
“Lord Calminster?”
Ben looked up to see Freely’s PA smiling at him. He’d known Jessica most of his life, as she’d been with Freely for over thirty years. Personally, Ben had no idea how she could work for the man, but she was devoted to him, probably even more so than his wife, who spent most of her time abroad.
“Jessica, it’s good to see you again.” Ben stood and shook her hand.
“Mr. Freely is still in his last meeting, but he asked me to take you to the conference room.”
Jessica led him to the lifts. No visitor was allowed to roam the building without a member of staff with them. The lift took them swiftly to the fifteenth floor, which housed the executive conference rooms.
“Would you like a coffee?”
“Yes, please.” Ben sat down in the leather armchair. “Do you know how long Mr. Freely will be?”
“I’m afraid I don’t. If you’d like to work, the room has Wi-Fi.”
“Great. I’ll do that.”
“I’ll bring you your coffee.” She smiled and vanished out of the room.
Ben sighed. He didn’t want to spend all day at Freely’s. He’d hoped to have lunch and return back to the Hall for a dinner with Dale. But he couldn’t skip out on the meeting either. He pulled out his iPad and brought up his schedule. He needed to prepare for a new programme they were starting next year for teenagers in the village. He wanted something similar to what he had in place for the ex-prisoners, where they received training rather than being handed a duster or a hoe and told to get on with it. His staff were on board with the idea, but the problem was deciding what training they should receive.