Page 29 of The Best Thing He Never Wanted

“I had him. He was leaving.”

“He wasn’t leaving.”

“He was building up to leaving. I have a system.” She set down her glass. “You interrupted a system forty years in the practice, and you did it with your …” She gestured economically at the whole of him. “… chest. And I’ll have you know I’ve never once in my life needed a man to loom on my behalf.”

“No, ma’am.” He had nowhere to look, no excuse to offer. “Won’t happen again.”

Silence stretched between them, and his heart sat heavy in his chest while he waited for her to shut the door on him.

“I didn’t say that.”

He looked up. She was smiling now. Not one of the surprised laughs he’d gotten out of her a few times. This was something slower, something she’d chosen to let him see.

“I said I’ve never needed it. I didn’t say I minded.”

She nudged the stool beside her out half an inch with her foot. “You may sit as a reward for your restraint.”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“You didn’t hit him,” she explained. “And you didn’t call him ma’am—which, from where I’m sitting, he’d probably have been grateful for, if he knew the effect it has.”

He sat. “Apologize,” he said. “Won’t call you that again. Didn’t know it was an issue.”

“I didn’t say it was an issue. Just not a preference.” She considered him. “And thank you.”

And he could tell that underneath the teasing, it was real.

“It’s been a long time since anyone stood up for me. I’d forgotten that I liked it.” She shot him a quick smile. “Don’t let it go to your head. It’s already a very large head.”

“Bea.”

“Hmm?”

“I didn’t mean to take over.”

“I know. You just couldn’t help yourself.” Her expression softened. “And, as I said, I quite liked it. But let’s leave that there, shall we?” She nodded toward the bottles behind the bar. “What would you like to drink?”

~ ~ ~

“I can get it. You want another glass of your wine?”

Bea leaned back in her seat. She really didn’t need another drink. But Blane was here again, and the need to celebrate that fact registered as far more important than worrying about how her head might feel in the morning.

So she nodded. “Please. But you should be warned; I’m told I become alarmingly honest after a glass too many.”

“Noted.”

While the bartender fixed their drinks, she allowed herself a peek at Blane and reveled in the fact that he was here. Seeing him sitting ramrod straight beside her, she took pity on him.

“Seriously, Blane, you can relax. I’m not cross with you.” She waved a hand in the direction of his chest again. “If you must know, you loom better than anyone I’ve ever known.”

He smiled through pursed lips. “What do you want me to say?”

“Not a thing. I think you already said it all with your looming.” She pressed her lips together. Perhaps that was too much. But when those gray eyes met hers, it didn’t feel that way.

Once they had their drinks, she lifted her glass toward him. He tapped his against it, his eyebrows rising as if to ask what they were drinking to this time.

“Here’s to not making a goodbye stick.”