Page 132 of The Best Thing He Never Wanted

Her hand came up to cover her mouth while the other reached for the bag. “Thank you, Blane.”

“Go on. Open it.”

Tears were already streaming down her face when she took out the little bee keychain. “Oh my goodness, Blane.”

He nodded, not trusting his voice, and watched while she attached it to the keys for her new car.

“Thank you. This means the world.”

“A little bee.” He managed a smile. “Should’ve got one for myself too. Then I’d have a little Bea I could take everywhere with me.”

A sob escaped her, and she drew in a shaky breath. “Sorry. I don’t… I can’t…” She shook her head. “I really didn’t want to make a scene.”

His arms came around her again, and when she buried her face against his chest, he rested his chin on top of her head.

“You’re not making a scene, Bea. I’ll do my best to get back here. Probably won’t be till winter, but I’m gonna try.”

Her arms tightened around him.

“I can’t promise anything.”

“I understand.” She held him tighter. “And you be careful, please. I know you’re good at security but make sure you keep yourself safe as well as everyone else.” She tipped her head back and looked up at him. “For me.”

“Yeah.” He held her gaze. “And you do the same. Look both ways before you step into the damn road and be careful driving that new little car of yours.”

“I will. I think I’ve got the hang of being on the right side now.”

“Yeah, you’re doing great.” He gave her a wry smile. “And keep an eye on that fucking goat. Don’t want him causing havoc the second I’m…”

He stopped. Gone. The word hung between them anyway, flat and final without anything attached to it. No until. No when I come back. Just gone. He could have added something. He could have promised he’d come back or asked her if there was some way to make this work. For one crazy second, he could even imagine telling Bear to leave without him and climbing straight back into the Vitara with her. But every possibility ran into the same thing. She’d built this life for herself because she was finally free to do that, and anything he asked of her now had the potential to turn his wants into another set of expectations she had to arrange herself around. He wouldn’t do that.

There was nothing he could offer her right here, right now, that didn’t risk taking something away from her, so he let every one of those thoughts die there in the drop-off lane, even while he couldn’t bring himself to let go of her.

In the end, she did it for him.

“Go on, darling.” Her voice cracked, but she gave him a watery smile. “You don’t want to keep Bear waiting. We said we weren’t going to make this into a thing—I’m no good at things. And neither are you. Oh, and here.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a paper bag of her own. “Just a little something sweet for the journey.”

His throat closed when he recognized the bakery bag. Baklava. He loved the stuff, but the something sweet he loved and wished he could take with him was standing right in front of him. He looked at her for a long moment and had the strange sense that she was doing exactly what he was—running through all the impossible possibilities and reaching the same conclusion every time.

There was only one thing left to say, and neither of them wanted to say it. So he leaned down, and she rose onto her toes to meet him. He didn’t kiss her like a man who knew he was coming back. He kissed her like a man who desperately wanted to believe he would. One hand came up to cup the side of her face, holding her carefully while he tried to put into the kiss everything he couldn’t make himself say. And that kiss lasted a little too long and nowhere near long enough.

Finally, he pulled away. He took his hat from the top of his duffel and put it on, then slung the bag over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna miss you, Bea.” His voice caught. “You’re the best thing…” He stopped. How the hell could he finish that sentence and then walk away from her?

Tears ran freely down her face as her hand came up to his cheek. She nodded, and his heart felt as though it cracked clean in two when she finished it for him.

“The best thing you never wanted. I know.”

He held her gaze for one last moment, and said, “See ya later.” Because goodbye wasn’t a word he ever wanted to say to this woman. Then he turned and walked through the sliding doors.

He was good at walking away. He’d been doing it all his life, usually because leaving was part of the job, because distance kept somebody safer, because standing guard had always meant knowing when to move on. But this? Nothing had ever cost him as much as walking away from Bea.

He didn’t look back. Not even once, because he didn’t know if he could look back and still keep walking. And the thing was, neither of them had asked him to stay. But everything in him was screaming at him to turn around anyway. Then, a few seconds after he entered the terminal, he spotted the mirrored panels running along one wall.

Of course he did. He noticed reflections the way he noticed exits, the position of a security camera, or the guy three tables away who kept looking toward the doors. Forty years of training and habit didn’t switch off because he’d fallen in love. If anything, it was worse now. Because now there was someone worth watching. So, he kept walking through the terminal like a man who didn’t look back, while in the mirrored panels he watched Bea the whole way.

She still stood in the drop-off lane, one hand raised to shade her eyes as she peered through the tinted doors even though there was no way she could see him. He watched her stay there way longer than made any sense, and then he watched her finally turn away and climb into the dusty, dented white tin can on wheels that had for a short time become their car. She sat there for a moment before starting the engine.