Page 36 of The Best Thing He Never Wanted

He wasn’t about to tell her that he did his best not to spend much time around people at all.

They found the stall where he’d spotted those little ridged dishes earlier. Bea picked one up and immediately started comparing it with another, apparently having forgotten that five minutes ago she hadn’t even known she needed one.

Blane took the one she seemed to like best from her hand.

“Is this the one? I’ll get it.”

“You most certainly will not.”

“Why?”

“Because I can buy my own garlic grater.”

“I know.”

“Then give it back.”

“No.”

“Blane.”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t need you buying things for me.”

“I know that too.” He looked down at the little painted dish. “I want to.”

That stopped her.

“Something for the new house,” he added.

The expression on her face changed, and for a second, he wondered if he’d screwed up.

Then she smiled. “Well. In that case, thank you.”

“Welcome.”

The older guy running the stall wrapped the grater carefully in tissue paper, and unlike the woman at the other place, gave Bea his full attention while she asked him a couple of questions about his work.

Blane liked him better.

Once it was packed safely away, Bea wandered on, and Blane was content to let her. After a while, she led him toward a coffee shop, where they found a table outside.

As he sat there watching her settle into her chair, it struck him again just how easy this was: hanging out with her, doing nothing in particular, talking about nothing much, just … being. It wasn’t something he could remember experiencing with a woman before.

He liked it.

“Is this terribly boring?” she asked after he’d taken his first sip of coffee.

“No.”

“Honestly?”

“I’m enjoying it.”

She stared at him for a moment. “Well, I don’t quite know what to say to that, other than I’m very pleased that you are.”

“I can see that.”