Page 27 of The Lonely Hearts Guide (Bountiful Beaus #2)

Fatherhood suited Elliot Davenport. With one year under his belt, he took to it like a duck to water. Or, maybe more appropriately, like Duck to Goose. As for Elliot, between his three-hour shifts each morning at the bakery and his time spent cuddled close to Alexander at night, Elliot was a model parent. Alexander hadn’t seen a single sparkle of blue light in his husband’s eyes for almost a year. It was always pink-pink-pink .

Since arriving on Sugarplum Island, Elliot came alive. He had a job he loved, and a pair of best friends in Duck and Goose. They had weekly book clubs with a few other village residents. Elliot organized community charity events for the island. He even formed a small band of neighborhood watch vigilantes who walked the island one hour each night to ensure the safety and security of the Sugraplumians. Granted, since the island’s creation, there hadn’t been any crime whatsoever, so it was more of a social gathering than anything, but Elliot seemed to enjoy the camaraderie, and Alexander would often travel the small island with them as a show of support.

Alexander was hesitant to relinquish control of his father’s company at first, often working remotely from home, occasionally having to visit the mainland a couple times a week to finalize deals. With Elliot and Honey taking up so much of his time—and heart—he finally decided to let it go. Alexander hadn’t told Elliot yet, but Alexander knew he would be thrilled.

“Alexander?” He turned his head to find Elliot standing over the sofa, looking down at him fondly. “You’ve been staring at the wall for the last ten minutes. I hate to be a bother, but I could use your assistance setting up the party. The guests will arrive in an hour.”

Alexander smiled, unable to remember a moment of his life when he was happier than he was right then. He stood, his heart swelling as he followed Elliot into the kitchen. The room was already an explosion of color, filled with balloons and streamers in every shade of the rainbow. There was even a banner reading, “Happy Birthday, Honey!” stretched across one wall. The only thing that would have made the moment better would be if Honey was there with them. Alexander’s mother offered to watch her for the night to give the men some time to themselves and prepare for the party. It was Honey’s first night away from home, and both men spent most of the time worried sick about not having her out of sight.

Elliot handed Alexander a stack of plates with little pink hearts scattered across. “Can you set these on the table?” he asked, his voice warm and affectionate.

“Of course,” Alexander replied, taking the plates and arranging them neatly on top. Elliot had already pulled the table apart and placed the extension leaf in the center, covering it with a pink tablecloth with little H’s peppering the fabric. Elliot stitched each “H” himself. He spent weeks getting it just right. Though Alexander offered to help, and Elliot had allowed it, he quickly changed his tune when he saw Alexander’s lackluster first attempt. Alexander couldn’t say he blamed him. Alexander was quickly stripped of his title as embroiderer, relegated to simple tasks such as filling balloons and arranging cheese trays.

He glanced at the array of food items waiting to be set out—tiny sandwiches, fruit platters, and a multi-tiered cake Elliot had poured his whole heart into. The guests would love it. When the kitchen was finally decorated, they moved to the living room, where Elliot had set up a play area with a rainbow pride flag set down as a rug, placing various toys across the fabric. Alexander tidied the living room, making it presentable for the guests while Elliot arranged goody bags for party guests. They worked in comfortable silence, just as they did every day. It was one of Alexander’s favorite things about Elliot. As an introvert, Alexander needed time to recharge his social battery, and Elliot never pushed him to fill that silence with idle chit chat. He allowed them to simply exist in the quiet, side by side. Once the lunch platters were set out, they set their focus on decorating the living room.

“Can you pass me that streamer?” Elliot asked, pointing to a roll of pink paper on the coffee table. Alexander watched as Elliot strung the paper from a light fixture, softly humming to himself. With the room decorated, the men stepped back, taking in the sight of the room. Elliot’s hand found Alexander’s and squeezed. “Thank you for helping me.” Elliot rested his head against Alexander’s shoulder. “Thank you for everything. I still can’t believe any of this is real.”

Alexander tilted his head and kissed Elliot’s scalp. “Neither can I.” The clock above their entertainment center told Alexander they had thirty minutes left until the partygoers arrived. His hand slipped down Elliot’s back until it was resting on his backside, squeezing gently. “Do you want to go upstairs?”

Elliot nibbled his bottom lip, and when Alexander looked down, he could see the telltale signs of an erection forming in his husband’s shorts. “We can do that.”

Alexander licked his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. We’ll need to be quick, though.”

Twenty minutes later, with flushed cheeks and sweat pouring down their faces, Alexander and Elliot rushed downstairs, still buttoning their clothes when the doorbell rang. Pausing at the door, the men gave each other a one-over, Elliot fixing Alexander’s hair, Alexander wiping residual semen from Elliot’s chin and licking his finger clean.

“Are you ready?”

Elliot nodded, then opened the door. On the other side of the door, Alexander’s mother was holding Honey, affectionately tweaking her nose.

Alexander’s mother handed Honey to him, and Honey smiled at her father before lifting a toy dinosaur and poking him in the cheek with its tail. He snorted a laugh and opened his mouth, playfully nibbling on the toy’s tail, making Honey cackle. It was at that moment Alexander realized just how much he missed her. Both she and Elliot breathed life into Alexander’s singular existence.

He always thought love wasn’t in the cards for him. How wrong he’d been.

Waves of pink light flooded Honey’s eyes. “Papa.”

Alexander’s jaw trembled, just as it always did when she said it. She started talking a month earlier, though she only ever said Dad, Papa, and No!

“Papa missed you, baby girl,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. He looked over at Elliot, who was observing them fondly. He slacked his knees to lower himself so they were eye level, giving Elliot the chance to land a few kisses of his own. As Alexander and Elliot fawned over their little girl, Twylah walked the room, praising them for their decorating skills.

An hour later, the small cottage was alive with merriment. Mrs. Peppercorn had come to share in the celebration, as had Periwinkle and Arthur, who, as they explained, were now living in New Orleans, helping Mrs. Peppercorn care for the home and all the bountiful beaus living there. She made a decision to house them indefinitely, refusing to send “her boys” to unhappy homes. Periwinkle mentioned she would often spend hours in the supermarket, seeking out potential love interests for her beaus. Men who would treat them right. Men who would love her boys with their whole hearts. She wouldn’t sell them, Periwinkle had explained, but she would allow courtship, and—if the beau in question wished to progress things—she would let them go, threatening the lives of their future husbands, should they lift a finger to them. Periwinkle attempted to discuss a plan he had for rescuing beaus who had already been sent to unhappy homes, but Arthur interrupted, handing their new child over, a little boy named Funshine Bear Price—the most ridiculous name Alexander had ever heard—and sighing, telling Periwinkle the baby needed changing again, his eyes pleading.

“Absolutely not,” Periwinkle said firmly. “You know I have an aversion to bodily fluids.” Arthur sighed and nodded, but Periwinkle gently wrapped his hand around Arthur’s wrist. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you tonight.” He waggled his eyebrows playfully before pausing, his face going serious. “With sex, Arthur. I will make up for it with sex.”

Arthur’s eyes widened, his cheeks burning a lovely shade of crimson. whirling around, he quickly exited the room and headed toward the bathroom.

Periwinkle smiled at them. “I don’t actually have an aversion to bodily fluids, I just like to tease Arthur.” Periwinkle kissed his fingertip and pressed it gently to Honey’s nose. “She’s precious. She looks just like you, Elliot.” He leaned closer until he was nose to nose with the baby. “And quite a bit like you, too, Alexander, though I’m not sure how that’s possible.”

Honey Peppercorn poked Periwinkle in the cheek.

He poked her back.

It was cute.

An hour later, as the children played, Elliot and Periwinkle sat on opposite sides of the rug. Mrs. Peppercorn was explaining to Alexander that she had made great progress in the automaton rights community. Still masquerading as Ms. Broussard, she’d been on several news outlets, demanding full bodily autonomy for nonhumans. The movement was gaining momentum, but the other automaton homes were dragging their feet, refusing to catch up with the times. They’d get there, Alexander thought. One day, automatons would be free people, able to make decisions for themselves, and to chart their own destinies.

In total, twelve adults and seven children came to celebrate Honey’s birthday. There were gifts and treats, and a home overflowing with love and laughter. Through it all, as Alexander watched him absentmindedly, the smile never left Elliot’s face.

Elliot would catch Alexander watching from time to time, his face flushing with color before quickly looking away. The fact Alexander could still make him blush with nothing more than a stolen glance always made his heart flutter faster.

An hour into the party, there was a knock at the door. Alexander and Elliot walked hand in hand, sharing a gentle kiss before opening the door.

On the other side of the door, a frazzled Beau Rivera shifted nervously on his feet, looking panicked. The former mayor of Genevieve, Georgia, had always been a picture of coolness and collectedness, but his eyes darted all around, and his breath came in quick bursts.

“Alexander, I need your help,” Beau said, his voice urgent. He looked over his shoulder toward a tall oak tree in their front yard. “It’s okay. I promise, you’re safe.”

“You speak to trees now?” Elliot asked, sounding a bit giddy. Beau flashed him a halfhearted smile before turning his attention back to the tree.

“It’s okay. You can come out,” Beau insisted.

A young man reluctantly stepped from behind the tree, his movements slow, his eyes wary. The man looked to be about twenty-five, and he had long brown hair that was tied back. His skin was bruised and cracked like a porcelain plate that had been dropped on the table a bit too hard. There was no blood or flashing lights beneath his skin, just streaks of his silver skull visible through the lacerations. His demeanor reminded Alexander so much of Elliot the first night they met at Twylah’s Sugarplum Treats. Alexander looked to Elliot.

“Do you know him?” Alexander whispered to Elliot as the man reached the final step on the porch.

Elliot shook his head before pulling away from Alexander. As Elliot took a step forward, the other man took a step back, almost falling off their small porch. Beau Rivera’s eyes never left the man, though, and he managed to wrap an arm around his back, pulling him against his chest, catching him before he fell.

“You’re okay,” Beau whispered to him. “I promised you, and I meant it. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Beau lifted his gaze to Alexander. “He lived next door to me. We became friends, and then his owner returned him. I couldn’t just leave him, so I went to the group home where he was staying and broke him out.”

The man whimpered, burying his face in Beau’s neck. “Scared.” His voice was small and broken, just like the small and broken cracks in his skin. There was one under his eye that looked like a heart. It was as if someone had taken a knife and carved the symbol in themselves.

“You don’t have to be. I’m right here.”

“Where’s Max?” he whispered.

“He’s back on the boat. We’re going to see him soon. I need you to be strong for me until then. Can you do that for me?” The automaton gave the mayor a sad nod.

Alexander smiled at the man, making his voice as warm and cheery as he could manage. “I’m Alexander, and this is my husband, Elliot.” He placed a hand at the small of Elliot’s back, and Elliot did the same with Alexander. “If you need a place to stay, we can find somewhere for you. It’s a small island, but we’ve got more than enough space to hide you, buddy.”

Beau bit his lip before sighing. “There’s more.”

Alexander arched an eyebrow. “More?”

“Quite a bit more, actually.” He glanced past Alexander and Elliot, staring into home, taking in the sight of partygoers laughing and smiling. “I hate to tear you away from the party, but there’s something I need to show you.”

Elliot looked up at Alexander, then back at Beau, nodding. “You helped me once, when I needed it most. We’ll help however we can. Where are we going?”

“Just to the ferry.”

Elliot turned back to the house. “Alright. Just give me a moment to ask them to look after Honey,” he said to Beau. Inside, he and Alexander weaved through the small crowd, finding Mrs. Peppercorn and Alexander’s mother chatting by the children.

“Mrs. Peppercorn, Ms. Twylah,” Elliot began. The women turned to him, their laughter soft as if they’d just shared a joke. “Could you look after the party for about half an hour? Alexander and I need to help Beau Rivera with something important.”

“Mayor Rivera is here?” Mrs. Peppercorn’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, but the sound of Beau’s groan pulled his attention away from her.

“We arrived together. Honestly, Mrs. Peppercorn. You have to cut back on your marijuana use. I fully support the legalization of cannabis, but no one should eat the amount of edibles you eat every day. You’re frying your brain.”

Mrs. Peppercorn rolled her eyes. “Hogwash. I was just playing into the drama.” Her eyes narrowed. “You were supposed to wait on the ferry until the party was over.”

“They’re terrified, Honey. You didn’t have to sit there with them, listening to them cry, asking where we’re going. A little less rage in your tone, please.”

Mrs. Peppercorn’s eyebrows shot up. “I left them coloring books. My boys are scared?” She attempted to stand, but had trouble on the ascent. Beau quickly shook his head at her.

“There’s no need to fuss. I’ve got this. Stay here and enjoy the party. I just need Alexander and Elliot.”

Mrs. Peppercorn nodded, looking a bit winded from her attempt to stand. “Alright. Well, tell them Mother loves them with her whole heart.”

“They’re not bountiful beaus. Those words mean nothing to them. We’ve discussed that. That’s just a stupid catchphrase Ms. Broussard used for marketing purposes.”

“The words are true, and they are mighty, son. Don’t ever question a mother’s love. It is vast and unending.”

“It is working the last of my waning patience,” Beau muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” he quickly squeaked. He gave Alexander a pleading look. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. She’s spiralling, I can tell.”

Ten minutes later, the men were on the dock, staring at the boat that had once ferried Elliot into his future. The boat seemed vacant, with even the captain taking a load off on the dock, sipping from a large bottle of vodka.

“The next ferry is in two hours,” he drunkenly slurred.

“It most certainly is not,” Beau hissed. “I’ve already told you, you’re not sailing anywhere in your condition, you big lush.”

The captain licked his lips, muttering, “I’d break you in half, baby,” before flagging Beau away with a dismissive flick of his wrist, belching loudly before taking another sip. Beau led them aboard, then to the bowels of the boat. There were no lights below, and rather than descend the stairs in darkness, Alexander used his phone as a light source. Once at the bottom, he held the phone up like a torch, illuminating the large, dark room. There were support columns all throughout, but it looked empty.

Beau took a slow step forward. “Shine the light on me.” As Alexander followed his instruction, Beau called out, “It’s okay. It’s just me. You’re safe.” His jaw trembled, but he managed to quickly steel his expression. “You’re free.” Turning back to Alexander, his eyes were pleading. “I did something I can’t undo, and I don’t know how to fix it. We need your help, Alexander.”

Alexander wasn’t sure what all the shadows and secrecy was about, but, as Elliot had said earlier, Beau helped Elliot in his time of need, and Alexander would do whatever it took to repay the favor.

“You’ve got it,” he finally agreed. “No matter what.”

A tear slipped down Beau’s cheek, and he quickly wiped it away, nodding his head in his new friend’s direction. Alexander realized they were holding hands. “After seeing what the monster next door did to Archie, he told me about his brothers back home. Their home isn’t like the one Elliot grew up in. Hearing the things they’re forced to do in the name of ‘training’ made me physically ill. I’m sorry, Alexander. I couldn’t just leave them.” Beau took the phone from Alexander and aimed int into the darkened space, calling out to them again.

In the darkness, a pair of eyes lit up, flashing orange-orange-orange at an alarming rate. They flashed faster than Elliot’s eyes ever had. The automaton must have been terrified.

Then, another set of orange eyes flashed.

And another.

And then, another.

It continued until the entire room was flooded with orange light.

“I’m going to turn on the light now,” Beau said, his voice calm and soothing. “You have nothing to be afraid of, I promise.” Using Alexander’s phone as a light, Beau walked to the far corner of the wall and flipped a light switch.

It took a moment for Alexander’s eyes to acclimate to the newfound brightness, and when he did, his heart slammed in his chest.

There, in the ferryboat’s vast lower level, sat at least forty automatons, each clinging to the other, cowering in corners and behind support beams. Elliot gasped, and Alexander followed his line of sight. Only a few feet to their right, there was a body covered in a tarp, but half her face was visible. Her eyes were wide and unseeing, and waves of greens, blues, and reds flickered in the corners.

“Mother?” Elliot whispered.

Beau nodded. “She was found floating in the sea. Clarence snuck out one night, traveled to where we docked in Texas, commandeered a sailboat, and spent a week searching for her. She was just off the coast. The Creationist is on an indefinite vacation, and we haven’t been able to reach him. Honey tried plugging her in to see if she would charge, but then the outlet started sparking. We think she has water damage.”

Elliot shook his head, kneeling beside his mother and inspecting her face. He pulled the tarp down until her face was completely visible. There were multiple cuts and abrasions on her once-flawless face, and she was missing an ear—probably nibbled off by a sea creature—revealing a silver skull beneath.

“She’s an automaton?” Elliot asked.

“It appears so.”

“What—how . . .” He leaned closer. “I didn’t know her at all, did I?” He looked up at Beau with a dumbfounded expression. “What do we do about her?”

Beau wasn’t looking at them, though. His attention was placed squarely on the frightened automatons cowering in the shadows. “Well, she won’t be powering on by herself, so she’s not very high on my list of priorities.” He pointed at the automatons. “They are. I made them a promise when I broke them out of their home.” Beau looked over to Alexander, his expression determined. “I’m going to save them.” A smile crept into the corners of his mouth. “I’m going to save them all.”