by Andrew Grey
“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 firs
t. “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 C
enter 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.”