Page 30 of The Best Thing He Never Wanted

“Yeah.” His mouth twitched. “I can drink to that.” He rested one elbow on the bar and turned toward her. “Have to tell you, that goodbye didn’t sit too well with me.”

Bea looked around the bar. There were still a few people scattered around despite the late hour. When she turned back to him, she gave him the truth. “I didn’t like it at all.”

The way he smiled made her glad she’d been honest. But as she sipped her wine and the silence between them lengthened, it dawned on her that all they’d really gained was a little reprieve.

“So, Crete,” he said eventually. “What’s the deal with that? You said it’s a big deal, right?”

She took another sip before answering. “It is. Enormous. I’m leaving my whole life here behind to start a new one.” She laughed softly. “I bought a house in a village where I don’t even speak the language.”

His eyebrows shot up.

She shrugged. “I’ll learn. I know they say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but …” There was no point being coy. No reason to hide her age. “I might be fifty-eight years old, but I have every faith in myself.”

That bubbly feeling fizzed in her chest again when he nodded.

“I have faith in you too.” His eyebrows came together. “You’re starting a whole new life. What about the one you’re leaving behind?”

She set her glass down. “I’m not really leaving it behind. It’s already … finished.” That sounded evasive, even to her.

She met his gaze. “I was married for a long time. Most of my life. He died a couple of years ago, and it’s taken me until now …” She could elaborate, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to. “It’s taken me until now to decide what I want to do next. And it turns out that what I most want to do is start afresh somewhere I don’t know a soul. And perhaps more importantly, where no one knows me.”

He held her gaze for a long moment. “I get that.”

“Do you?”

“Where no one knows you, you don’t have to conform to anybody’s expectations of who you’re supposed to be. Right?”

“Exactly.” She was a little surprised that he understood so well. She wouldn’t have expected a man like Blane to conform to anyone’s expectations.

“Why Crete?”

She lifted a shoulder. “It’s somewhere I’ve gone on holiday over the years. My friend Meg—the one who was supposed to be here with me this weekend—and I go there whenever we can manage a girls’ trip. So I know the village, if not many of the people. And the house is lovely. Although it needs some work, and …” She smiled. “There’s a garden. Well, at the moment it’s more of a patch of dirt. But I’ll make it a garden.”

“Is that your thing, then? Gardening?”

“It hasn’t been. At least, not officially.” She smiled and reached for her wine. “It used to be but…” There was no need to tell him the sad history of how she’d lost track of so many of her own dreams while she was busy supporting Simon’s. “Anyway, what about you?” she asked. “You said you’re from Montana. Is that home?”

“It is again now. Hadn’t been for years, but we moved back there not long ago.”

She tried to keep her expression neutral at the we. She couldn’t help glancing at his left hand when a horrible thought struck her. For all she knew, he could be married, and she’d never once thought to check for a ring.

Of course, he caught her looking and gave her a stern look. “When I say we, I mean me and the guys. My partners. Cash, who you heard on the phone, and Mav, the other one. We own a security company. Set it up together after we retired from the Navy. We had our base in Colorado for years, but the guys wanted to move back home and be closer to their families, so we did.”

“And you? Do you have family?”

His smile transformed his features. “I do. A younger sister. Brooke. It’s good to be able to see more of her these days.” He glanced around the bar, watching as one of the few remaining couples left before turning back to her. “I still work away a lot, though.”

He fell silent long enough that she had to wonder if he was done. She didn’t want him to be. “So. Is this the part where you tell me nothing about yourself again?”

“Figured that was the arrangement.”

“It was. I’m renegotiating.”

He turned his glass a slow quarter turn on the bar, buying himself a second.

“You’re stalling.”

“I am.” He took a sip. “Not real good at this part.”