Page 25 of The Best Thing He Never Wanted

Tina beamed. “Oh, I did. That was always my plan.” She turned to Blane and nodded. “I’ve been wondering all weekend who that stool was waiting for. I’m glad you finally made it.” She looked him over. “What are you drinking? That’s on me too.”

Blane reached for his back pocket. “That’s okay. I can—”

Tina planted her hands on her hips. “I don’t care how big and tough you look. I’m not standing for any arguments. And if it helps, I’m not really doing it for you. This is for Bea. She’s been lovely all weekend, but it was easy to see she was missing something.” She glanced between them. “Watching you two dance like that, I understand why. So, this is me buying you a drink. A thank-you.” She smiled. “I knew she was a special lady. Nice to finally see her happy with her man.”

Bea inhaled sharply, not sure where to look—or whether she ought to explain, so Blane wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.

It turned out the man didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. Or he covered it well.

He reached for Bea’s hand, gave it a squeeze, and said to Tina, “Makes me happy you can see how special she is. Glad I made it too. I’ll take a beer. Thanks, Tina.”

After Tina brought his drink, he raised his glass to Bea, and she tapped her wine against it. She didn’t know what they were drinking to, and he didn’t say. But he nodded, and she nodded back, and it felt like the right toast, whatever it meant.

She wasn’t going to think about tomorrow. He’d be leaving, no doubt, and on Tuesday morning, so would she. Tonight, she was simply going to enjoy the rest of the evening with him. And afterward she’d carry the memory of him with her. He’d turned this strange, limbo weekend—the one between her old life and her new one—into a little oasis. She’d never forget him.

He rested his arm along the back of her seat and leaned closer, and she turned to him like a flower to the sun, goosebumps racing over her skin.

“She was right, you know. Tina.” His gaze held hers. “You’re a special lady, Bea.”

All she could do was stare into his eyes. She wanted to tell him he was special too. Wanted him to understand how much his being here meant to her. But she didn’t have the words, and he wasn’t expecting a reply. He gave her a small nod and turned his attention back to the stage.

~ ~ ~

Blane kept his arm along the back of Bea’s stool. He was measuring every move, every word—but his body seemed to have ideas of its own. Resting his arm there had come as a surprise to him. Keeping it there was a choice.

The whole time he’d been shuffling with her to that song, he’d been hunting for something to say. Some way to let her know the time he’d spent with her meant something. He hadn’t come up with a thing—until Tina had gifted him the words. And she was right. Bea really was special.

He had the impression she didn’t know it.

He didn’t just mean special to him, because he found her attractive—though he did. It was more than that. It was easy to see that people liked her. Not only that, but she cared about them. The hotel staff. Tina here. Even earlier, paying for her purchases at the museum gift shop, she’d had the cashier smiling and laughing with her.

He watched the band move around the stage while he mused. The singer, Carson, was a good guy—one of the younger stars just hitting his peak. From this angle Blane could see the team leader, Brock, hovering in the wings. No specific threats tonight, but Brock was good.

When Carson came to the front of the stage and shouted, “I love you, London!” the whole arena rose to its feet. Blane knew what came next—Carson’s biggest hit. He knew because he had all his teams drill for exactly this; the moment a band’s biggest song hit, the atmosphere spiked, the excitement peaked. If anything was going to happen at a show, that was when.

Bea’s hand on his arm brought him back. She was smiling as she slid down from her stool. He understood what was happening when he saw the other women already heading toward the little area they’d claimed as a dance floor behind the seats.

He got to his feet too, grateful for the chance to stretch his legs.

“You’re going to dance?” Bea looked shocked.

“No. I’m going to stand in the corner. Make sure you’re safe while you dance.”

She looked all around them, then back at him, puzzled. “Safe?” She laughed. “Oh, Blane. You’re funny.”

He shrugged and went to stand in the corner, in the shadows, arms folded across his chest, feet planted square. It was where he felt most at home. The guys joked, called him the sentry, and mostly that was an accurate assessment. It didn’t feel that way tonight, though. Tonight was different. He wasn’t only standing here to make sure Bea was safe. He cocked an eyebrow when it hit him. He wanted to be close to her, too—and without dancing, this was as close as he could get.

When the song ended and Carson launched into another, he checked his watch while Bea and the other women kept dancing. He loved that she was enjoying herself. But he was all too aware the minutes were ticking down. Tonight would be over too soon. He scowled. Sooner than it needed to be, thanks to Cash and the check-in with the team he’d agreed to. Still, he was here for now, and so was she. She’d be gone in the morning. So, he wasn’t going to waste the little time he had.

When another song started, the other women kept on dancing, but Bea came to him, laughing and out of breath. “My goodness, Blane. The other girls think I’m some kind of celebrity now.” He cocked an eyebrow, and she laughed again. “They think I’m some kind of star since I’ve got my very own bodyguard. And you have to admit—” she looked him up and down “—you do rather give that impression.”

His jaw tightened. “Guess I do. But I’m not up here because I’m working, Bea. I—”

He froze a moment as a thought hit him. He’d had women run the bodyguard line on him before—the tired jokes about letting him guard their body. But he shook the thought away; Bea wasn’t that kind of woman. He set his hand on her shoulder. It seemed to be the only way he knew how to connect with her. “You want to sit back down?”

She dropped her gaze, then smiled back up at him. “It’s embarrassing to admit, but I can hardly avoid it—I have to nip to the ladies’. I’ll be right back.”

As she stepped away, he followed her.