Page 34 of The Best Thing He Never Wanted

As they ate, it struck Bea that she’d grown used to eating breakfast alone. In fact, she ate almost all her meals alone these days. She pushed the thought away. Simon didn’t get to steal a single moment of this one precious day she had with Blane.

“You’re quiet,” he said.

She turned to him. “I know that’s not a complaint. And you’ll probably live to regret noticing. I just need more coffee inside me before I start my rambling for the day.”

He chuckled and caught Delia’s attention as she passed. “Can we get some more coffee when you get a chance?”

Bea slapped his arm. “You’re teasing me now, aren’t you? I thought you were about to order tea instead, to make me shut up.”

His smile faded. “No, Bea. I enjoy hearing you ramble. That’s my point.”

“Oh.” She dropped her gaze, feeling foolish.

He nudged her gently with his elbow. “Come on. Ramble at me, woman. Tell me what you want to do with our day. You must need some shopping or something.”

She laughed. “You’re volunteering for shopping? You made it perfectly clear at the museum that it isn’t your favorite thing.”

“It’s not about the shopping.” He picked up his coffee. “It’s about seeing you enjoy yourself.”

After they finished breakfast, Carla and Lauren at reception pointed them toward a charity shop only a five-minute walk away that would happily take the suitcase.

He didn’t wait in the lobby, as she’d expected, while she went to collect the case from her room. Instead, when they stepped out of the lifts on the twelfth floor, he assumed what she was beginning to think of as his usual position—arms folded across his chest, feet squared.

“I’m guessing you don’t need a hand since the case is empty. I’ll wait here.”

As she hurried into her room to collect it, she couldn’t decide how she felt about him not coming with her. Of course it was the appropriate thing to do. There was no reason for him to join her in her room, and yet somehow, she was a little disappointed.

She grabbed the handle of the case and tugged it along behind her, telling herself not to be silly as she hurried back down the corridor to join him.

Blane pushed the button to summon the lift, then reached for the handle of the case.

“It’s okay, I can—”

He cocked an eyebrow.

She tried not to laugh. He might not be a man of many words, but his eyebrows were becoming quite eloquent. When they drew together a moment later, she knew something had bothered him.

“I’m not trying to take it off you if you want to do it,” he said. “But there’s no need; I might as well come in handy for something while I’m here.”

She rested her hand briefly on his arm. “It’s your company I’m after, Blane. Not your help.”

When they reached the charity shop, the young man behind the counter showed remarkably little interest in either them or the suitcase. He took it with barely more than a nod, then looked at Bea as though wondering why she was still there.

“Don’t you give a receipt for that or anything?” Blane asked.

The young man sat up a little straighter, his eyes widening as he took Blane in.

“I, uh—”

“It’s fine,” Bea said. “I don’t need one.”

As they walked out of the shop, she realized she truly didn’t. Leaving that case behind was something she’d wanted to do for herself, no matter how impractical it might seem from the outside. She didn’t need a receipt or any other proof that she’d done it. She knew, and that was all that mattered.

Once they were back on the street, Blane placed his hand at the small of her back as they made their way along the crowded pavement. Bea held her breath for the first few moments. The presence of his hand solid, warm, and grounding was impossible to ignore.

“Where next?”

“Well, if you’re really up for shopping, I thought we could wander over to Covent Garden.” She smiled up at him. “I assume you’d rather walk, or I can introduce you to the pleasures of London buses, if you prefer.”