Page 40 of The Best Thing He Never Wanted

She’d spent so much of her life adjusting herself around someone else that she’d forgotten what it felt like simply to be beside someone and remain entirely herself. And somehow, in the space of a few days, Blane had reminded her.

She had to make the next chapter count. Crete was going to be good. She’d already decided that. She wasn’t going there to let her life quietly peter out in some prettier place. She was going there to live it. To find out what she liked, what she wanted, who she was when the decisions were hers.

And now, perhaps, she understood a little better how much might still be waiting for her.

“You okay?”

She looked up at Blane and felt a stab of guilt when she saw the concern in his face.

He didn’t need to know where her thoughts had gone. It wasn’t his fault that knowing him had made her see possibilities she hadn’t seen before.

“I am.” She sighed. “But I think my feet have had enough wandering for one day.” She glanced at the time and squeezed his hand. “And I hate to bring it up, but it’s getting late. The afternoon’s almost gone, and I’m afraid I don’t have much evening left to share.”

His fingers tightened around hers.

“My flight’s at nine-thirty tomorrow. I have to be at Heathrow three hours early, and my car from the hotel is booked for five-fifteen.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. You said it was early.” He looked around. “We’re nearly back at the museum, right?”

“We are. I hadn’t even realized it, but I think we’ve somehow looped all the way back to Bloomsbury.”

“Then what do you say we find somewhere for an early dinner?” His brows drew together almost immediately. “If you want to have dinner with me. Or was that your way of saying you’ve had enough and need to get back to the hotel and pack?”

She stopped and placed her hand in the middle of his chest. She couldn’t explain why she kept doing that. Then again, she doubted anyone would blame her.

“I’d love to have dinner with you, Blane. I’m not trying to get rid of you. Far from it. It’s that, unfortunately, I do have to be realistic.”

“Early dinner, then.”

“Perfect.” She looked around and realized exactly where they were. “Oh! You know what? We can give you a proper taste of London. There’s a very famous fish-and-chip restaurant just around the corner, and unless I’m mistaken, they open early.”

Blane did not look convinced.

“What do you think? Want to give it a go?”

He considered it for a moment, then nodded. “Suppose I should try it while I’m here.”

She laughed. “You definitely should. Come on.” And she led him toward what she was certain would be an excellent plate of fish and chips.

Chapter Nine

As Bea led him to a table inside the fish-and-chip shop, Blane silently cursed himself. He should have figured this out sooner, should have found somewhere good to take her for dinner. He couldn’t have known they’d need to eat this early, but he could have done better than this. The tables were covered in plastic cloths. Baskets of salt, vinegar, ketchup, and other stuff he didn’t recognize sat in the middle of each one. The menu was displayed on a white plastic board on the wall. He studied it, unimpressed.

Bea took a seat, and the guy behind the counter waved at them. “I’ll be right with you.”

“Oh, look.” Bea picked up a menu card from the table. “You can have a beer if you like.” She looked less certain as she read farther. “Although perhaps we should wait until we get back to the hotel for a drink.”

“Yeah. We should do that.”

He wouldn’t have minded a beer with dinner, but tagging on extra time in the hotel bar afterward was fine by him.

The guy came out from behind the counter to hand them laminated menus and drop cutlery wrapped in paper napkins in front of them. “Do you know what you want?”

Blane scowled. How the hell were they supposed to know when they hadn’t even had the chance to look?

Bea smiled. “We might need a few minutes. My friend’s American. I need to educate him before he can order.”

The guy grinned at Blane as he backed away.