Page 109 of The Best Thing He Never Wanted

He didn’t want to scare her, and he had no concrete reason to think anything was wrong. Still, he took her hand, and when they reached the door, he took the key from her and let them in, keeping her behind him as he moved through the house, turning on lights.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong,” she said once they were inside.

“Let’s just check upstairs.”

“Okay. Do you want me to get you that whiskey?”

“No. I want you to come with me.”

She laughed softly. “Is this a new way to get me upstairs?”

For once he didn’t laugh with her. “Not this time, darlin’. Come on.”

She followed him upstairs, and by the time he’d checked all three bedrooms, both bathrooms and the balcony, he was starting to wonder if he’d overreacted. But no. He knew the answer to that one. When something felt off, it always paid to investigate.

They stood together on the balcony in the warm darkness, the sound of cicadas and the scent of flowers filling the air. He put his arm around Bea’s shoulders and hugged her to his side.

“Sorry if I scared you. I just needed to be sure.”

“Blane.”

“What?”

She pointed toward the washing line.

“Shit.”

The tablecloth was gone.

She looked up at him with a worried smile. “After all the awful things I was imagining while you made sure the house was safe, I don’t know whether to be concerned that the tablecloth is gone or laugh because it’s probably blown away or something.”

Blane stared at the empty washing line. There’d barely been a breeze all day.

“You’re doing the thing,” she said.

“What thing?”

“You’re absolutely still.” She tightened her arm around his waist. “You even feel like a granite cliff. There’s no movement whatsoever.”

“Sorry, darlin’.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it was the wind.”

She looked up at him again. “But you don’t believe that, do you?”

“No. But that’s because I’m a suspicious bastard. Says more about me than it does about what happened to your tablecloth.”

Chapter Twenty

Bea couldn’t help eyeing the empty washing line warily as they set out for their walk on Tuesday morning. Blane didn’t say a word about it, but he didn’t need to. She knew he didn’t believe the wind had taken the tablecloth. She didn’t really believe it herself. She took hold of his hand as they stepped out onto the lane. She was enjoying these morning walks. The sun was warm enough to be pleasant, but it wasn’t too hot yet, and she already knew she was going to miss this part of her mornings when Blane was gone. She’d keep up with the walking, but it wouldn’t be the same without him.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Should we do the full loop this morning? Go down to the bakery?”

“I’m up for it if you are. We haven’t had those baklava things in a couple of days. I know you like those.”

She laughed softly. “And we both know I’m not the only one. You like them too.”

“Yeah, I do. But we can pick some up later if you don’t feel like walking all the way back up the hill.”

“I’d like to. I wasn’t sure I’d make it all the way back up the first time, but these regular walks have done me good. I’m starting to get into better shape.”