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  Like Heaven on Earth

  By Jaime Samms

  Dance, Love, Live: Book Three

  Cobalt Winslow lost two loves when his ex-boyfriend, Calvin Denvers, infected him with HIV, taking his health and his place as principal danseur in their New York ballet company when Cobalt became too weak. Now dealing with the aftermath as best he can, Cobalt teaches dance in Toronto with the support of his oldest friends, Conrad and Peridot. The one bright spot in his life is Malory Preston, his brother’s driver and a man who is always there when Cobalt needs him. Kind and attentive, Preston embodies everything Calvin lacks, but Cobalt can’t let go of his unhealthy, long-distance relationship with his ex.

  Calvin brings a messy and violent end to their affair, but offers a chance for Cobalt to return to New York—as Calvin’s understudy—just when he’s on the verge of a real and lasting relationship with Preston. Now Cobalt faces a choice between two loves: dancing and Preston. Preston must show Cobalt that he has the power and support to make the life he wants and deserves, no matter what he decides.

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  More from Jaime Samms

  Readers love the Dance, Love, Live series by Jaime Samms

  About the Author

  By Jaime Samms

  Visit Dreamspinner Press

  Copyright Page

  For anyone who has ever worked through hard times and hurt to make their dreams come true and rediscover how to love themselves again.

  Acknowledgments

  THANK YOU, always, to my daughter Hannah, and to Jessie Potts, without whose advice these dance books would not have been nearly as successful and true to the discipline as they are.

  Thank you to Denise Vitali, Hannah’s “other mom” and a huge influence for growth and love in all our lives. You are forever one of my greatest heroes. Love you.

  Chapter 1

  STANDING VERY still, eyes closed, Cobalt felt the ghost of dance swirl around him, even here in the community center, where the space was used for everything from his modern dance classes to day care to the once-a-year used-book fair. The room was by no means a dedicated dance studio.

  Even still, he heard thin strains of music floating around him, imagined dancers at the barre stretching, or flitting around the room rehearsing. Like always, he gravitated to the barre—it was what he knew—and placed his hands lightly on the worn wood. The ghosts in his head faded as he opened his eyes and stared at his own sickly reflection.

  His cheeks were still thin, eyes sunken so the brilliant blue glittered out at the world from under his heavy brow. Cheekbones and jaw jutted like there was too much skull for his meager allotment of pale skin. His hair was brittle to the touch and hung limp at the moment because he hadn’t been bothered to tease it into the customary spikes that morning.

  He looked sick.

  Cal had not looked sick. He’d been home for a whirlwind visit on the weekend, and he hadn’t looked anything short of the picture of perfect health. Still, he had kept his distance, sleeping on the couch instead of in their bed. Cobalt had assured him the doctors had cleared him of any lingering effects of his bout with fever and flu a few weeks before. There was nothing to catch from him, but Cal hadn’t wanted to take chances.

  It made sense. Cobalt understood. Look how quickly his own compromised immune system had fallen under the assault, after all. Cal had performances coming up, a new ballet to learn and perform, and many livelihoods hung on his coattails. He couldn’t afford even the possibility of contracting something that could take advantage of his HIV-positive status.

  None of that explained Cal’s vicious comments or his crisply cool air of disdain when Cobalt had needed more sleep than usual. Cal was self-centered, certainly, but he usually treated Cobalt with some amount of care when he visited, if only to ensure the HIV elephant didn’t rear its head while they were together. Only this visit, he’d been… uglier. He’d been angrier than his normal self, then seemed embarrassed and apologetic, like he didn’t know why he was behaving so nastily. Cobalt remembered the mood swings new meds caused, and it made him wonder about Calvin’s health, but every time he thought he might ask, Cal stuck another barb in and Cobalt closed his mouth, unwilling to fight. It all left Cobalt cold inside, lonely and sad that they couldn’t talk about something so important.

  An ache in his knuckles drew Cobalt’s attention to his hands, clenched hard around the barre. His jaw snapped and he had to loosen that too. Drawing himself up tall, he let his gaze lose focus and drift away from his no-longer-pretty features. He didn’t need music for this. It played constantly in his head, and he loosened his limbs enough to begin a simple warm-up exercise.

  He saw nothing. Heard nothing but the quiet trickle of piano in his mind. His body warmed, muscles relaxed, mind drifted. He didn’t even have to think about this series of movements. They flowed through his limbs, moved his body without his direction. They were as natural as breathing. After a few minutes, he closed his eyes again and let his body take over.

  Perhaps the better part of an hour later, a light glisten of sweat graced his bare arms and the back of his neck. He shouldn’t feel quite so much like he’d run a marathon just from the warm-ups, but then, he’d been ill. He’d get his conditioning back eventually, even if he didn’t have the stamina he used to. That was what had taken him off the stage in the end. People would have forgotten his HIV status, given time, just like they ignored Cal’s philandering and forgave Karen for abandoning a child for the ballet. What they would never let him live down was the decline in his performances.

  Ballet demanded perfection. The moment he had fallen short, it had abandoned him for younger, brighter, and better. For Cal.

  Sighing, Cobalt turned away from the barre and the mirror in search of a towel. One appeared in his line of sight, held there by a large, square hand protruding from the black cuff of a chauffeur uniform.

  “Preston!” He took a step back, the big man’s unexpected presence startling him.

  “Sorry to intrude, sir,” Preston said, his voice a familiar, low rumble.

  “It’s fine.” Cobalt snatched the towel from Preston and rubbed it over his face.

  “Your warm-up is looking stronger,” Preston said, ambling behind him as Cobalt crossed to where he’d hung his sweater. “Your extension is back up. Just a little shaky toward the end.”

  Cobalt stood very still, his back to the chauffeur. He wanted to be annoyed. But the fact that Preston could tell the difference from one day to the next meant something. Instead of snapping, he nodded. “Why are you here?”

  “Mr. Azure requested I check in and inquire if you needed someone to fetch your supper before class started.”

  Cobalt mustered up a cool glare and turned around. “Because Mr. Azure thinks I can’t take care of myself?” Preston had taken to calling them Mr. Azure and Mr. Cobalt because referring to them both as Mr. Winslow had gotten confusing and irritating. Es
pecially since every time he did, both Az and Cobalt had a tendency to look over their shoulders in search of their father.

  “A brother worries,” Preston said in his unshakable calm. “Unavoidable, I’m afraid.”

  He should know. Cobalt thought the man had three, maybe four younger brothers and a couple who were older. He’d forgotten exactly how many, but there were a lot of them. He’d overheard Preston talking about the trials of a huge family with one of Cobalt’s dancers, Adam. If either of them worried about their siblings even half as much as Azure had fussed over Cobalt the past couple of months, it was a wonder they weren’t raving lunatics riddled with anxiety.

  Cobalt tossed the towel back at Preston, who caught it without so much as blinking. Then Cobalt yanked his sweater on over his damp skin. Preston tugged the hem, flipped the collar, quick, precise motions that settled the garment neatly into place.

  Cobalt lifted his chin, an automatic reflex that made people back away. Preston simply turned as he passed and followed him toward the table near the entrance. A large take-out bag sat on it, next to a bottle of water and a steaming cup that wafted the scent of mint over whatever warm food smell was coming from the bag.

  “I am a grown man,” Cobalt muttered, even as he peeled back the rim of the bag to peer inside.

  “Indeed, sir.” Cobalt could hear the roll of Preston’s eyes in the tone of his voice.

  “You aren’t required to fetch and carry for me at my brother’s whim, you know.”

  “Your brother pays my salary. I do as he bids.”

  “Of course.” Cobalt crumpled the rim of the bag back up and turned. “And thank you. The meal is appreciated. You don’t need to stay.”

  Preston bowed slightly from the waist, hands clasped behind his back. “As you wish. Call if you require the car to get home.”

  “Of course.”

  He wouldn’t call. One of the other dancers would give him a lift. Someone always did, and he didn’t feel right beckoning Preston to his side at all hours of the day. He already appeared at Cobalt’s doorstep most mornings before dawn to drive him across town to his favorite coffee shop and then to his best friend Peridot’s house for their morning visits. It wasn’t right he should be on call well into the evenings too, just so Cobalt didn’t have to be inconvenienced.

  “Enjoy the dance, sir.”

  Cobalt turned back to the food. Why did he always say that? Enjoy the dance. As if that were truly an option anymore. It was more like the trial of making his body do these things was less painful than the heartache of not. Enjoyment? Not so much.

  Chapter 2

  OUTSIDE THE community center, Preston paused on the steps to take in a lungful of fresh air. Despite the cold slush on the sidewalks and the scent of uncovered thawing garbage not yet cleared by the street sweepers, it felt like spring was well and truly on the way. The cold, dry bite of winter chill more and more often gave way to the sweeter, softer hit of damp spring air.

  He smiled to himself. It would be good when that dampness evaporated. The sooner the better. It put an ache in his own crooked legs and a burden on Cobalt’s overworked system. At least here, with the lake effect off Lake Ontario south of the city, the Canadian winter didn’t last as long as it did out west, where he had last danced. He was glad Cobalt had come home for that reason alone. It didn’t hurt that he now had firsthand knowledge of how his boss’s younger brother was doing. Not knowing if he was staying healthy, looking after himself, had been… wearing.

  “Hey, Preston.” The voice shook him out of his thoughts, and he glanced up.

  “Adam. Hello.”

  Adam’s happy grin widened. “You bring Cobalt his dinner?”

  Preston gave a curt nod.

  “Did he tell you off again?” Adam’s younger brother, Matt, clapped him on the shoulder, a wide, sympathetic expression on his face.

  Preston grimaced and wasn’t quick enough to hide it. Something about Adam’s little brother made it impossible to keep his professional polish in place.

  “Hang in there, Prest,” Matt said. “He’ll figure it out.”

  Preston straightened. “Figure what out, sir?” he asked.

  Matt only grinned wider as he hurried inside.

  “Ignore him,” Adam advised.

  “I’m sure I don’t know what he’s talking about,” Preston insisted, but Adam only gave him a knowing look. “I simply do as Mr. Azure requests and make sure Cobalt is looked after.”

  “Okay.” Adam stopped on the top step, and suddenly Preston was eye to eye with the short dancer. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you drive Azure Winslow’s limo for a living.”

  “Correct.”

  “Since when does that include being on call for Azure’s baby brother 24-7, bringing him takeout from the organic deli, and spying from the lot across the street to make sure he has a ride home from every rehearsal?”

  “I—” Preston cleared his throat, unable to stop his glance across the street to where he had parked the limo in an unobtrusive corner of the library’s parking lot. “It’s just that… his neighborhood is….” Preston stuttered to a stop.

  Cobalt lived a few scant blocks from Adam’s own family home, and though these days Adam spent most of his time with his new lover in a much better neighborhood, it wouldn’t do to disparage the place he grew up.

  “Sketchy?” Adam supplied.

  Preston inclined his head a very small degree. “Sir.”

  Adam nodded. “Yeah. I know. And I grew up there, so I’m not worried. But your Coby has no clue. It’s good you look out for him, but I think you probably should realize you’re not actually fooling anyone. Except maybe Cobalt, because clueless, like we mentioned.”

  “As you mentioned,” Preston pointed out. “His… clues… perhaps lie in teaching foolish young men not to give up on a dream.” Pushing, he knew. But Adam was much closer to his station in life than Cobalt. And he had no right to bad-mouth Preston’s employer. Sort of employer. Whatever. Cobalt’s persistence in making Adam participate in the modern dance classes had helped to convince Adam not to give up dancing altogether when his dream of ballet had disintegrated. Preston felt a small amount of affinity for the younger man.

  Preston knew what it meant to lose a dream the way Adam had. A different dream, perhaps, but the despair had surely felt much the same. It had been Cobalt, way back when, who had kept Preston from giving up, as well.

  Adam nodded. “Okay. Good point. I’m just saying, I’m not the only one who sees how you look at him when he’s not paying attention.”

  Preston said nothing. He knew Adam had caught him looking more than once. It had been kind of the young man not to rub his nose in it. At least, not until now.

  “All I’m suggesting,” Adam went on, “is that maybe you try looking at him like that when he is paying attention. See what happens?”

  “I’m sure it’s not my place to—”

  “Yeah, well.” Adam winked. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that.”

  “He comes from a very different world than you and I, sir.”

  “Maybe. But he doesn’t live in that world anymore, does he? He gave all that up and chose to live a block and a half from the worst part of the city. Ever wonder why?”

  Often.

  “Think about it,” Adam said. “Give him a chance to look back at you. What’s the worst that can happen?” He punched Preston’s shoulder lightly and sprinted into the center.

  Preston remained on the steps a moment more.

  “What is the worst that can happen?” An intriguing thought.

  Chapter 3

  REHEARSAL WENT smoothly for once. Cobalt was glad. He had little energy for the dramatics that occasionally befell most creative types. Dancers weren’t any exception. Today, though, the piece they had worked on wasn’t the show’s centerpiece. It was a short, fun, zippy bit, more a musical skit than pure dance. Those involved were auto mechanics and college students, and Adam. Hardly volatile creative types. Well, exc
ept Adam, but he seemed far more stable these days.

  Cobalt figured Adam’s relatively fresh relationship with Peridot contributed to his stability. Domestic bliss really agreed with the young man. Too bad for Cobalt the same had not proven true.

  He shook himself. He was not going to think about that. Now, Adam was waiting in the center of the studio for his attention. He was the last dancer, and they had planned to work on his solo piece for the show for a little while before calling the evening.

  “You okay?” Adam asked, peering at Cobalt’s reflection.

  “Yes, of course.” Cobalt pulled the periwinkle shawl around his shoulders a tiny bit tighter. It wasn’t very heavy, but the fuzzy wool under his fingertips gave him something tactile to ground his staticky nerves and keep them from jumping like lightning through his system. He played with one corner of it as he hurried to the stereo to start the music for Adam.

  He shouldn’t feel so unsettled. Cal had gone back to New York, leaving Cobalt alone in his little house again. Since Cobalt felt physically better, if not 100 percent, his doctor had given him the all clear. He’d reconnected with Peridot and then Conrad over the past few months, and their friendships had picked up like there hadn’t been long years between contact. Both of them had settled into satisfying, productive relationships with really nice young men. Cobalt didn’t have to miss them or worry about them anymore. His world was spinning on a pretty even kilter. So why couldn’t he settle?

  “Cobalt?”

  “I am so sorry!” Cobalt hit the Play button and turned to face the room. “I’m here. Truly.”

  “We don’t have to do this today if you’re not feeling up to it,” Adam assured him.

  “I’m fine.” Cobalt lifted his chin and clapped his hands. “Quickly now. In position.”

  Adam took up his starting position, curled in on himself on the floor in the center of the room. Other dancers would be positioned around him, hiding him, as though they comprised a hard outer shell protecting the pearl within that was Adam. One at a time, they would peel away as the dance progressed until Adam was alone and upright. This was the section they were here to work on. They didn’t need the rest of the cast to work on his solo.