Page 74 of The Best Thing He Never Wanted

“Didn’t say you were.”

“You’re doing your concerned eyebrows.”

“Can’t help my eyebrows.”

That made her laugh properly. She curled closer against him and rested her cheek over his heart again. The words echoed in her head—freedom not gladness.

She thought she might finally understand the difference. It had taken a very large, rather intimidating-looking American to help her get there. And somehow, on the first night in the first home she had ever chosen entirely for herself, she was lying beside him—a man who’d asked before taking even the smallest piece of what she offered him.

For the first time in a very long time, making room for someone didn’t feel anything like becoming smaller.

~ ~ ~

Blane waited until Bea’s breathing had evened out before he moved. He’d learned enough about her in the last few hours to know he didn’t want to wake her. That thought stopped him halfway out of bed—a few hours. Jesus. There’d been women in his life before, women he’d been involved with for months, a couple for years. But he’d never known any of them the way he already felt he knew Bea. He pulled on his jeans and looked back at her. She’d rolled onto her side with one hand tucked beneath the pillow, her hair a mess around her face. Something in his chest shifted. He ignored it or tried to. The balcony doors were right there. He opened them quietly and stepped outside.

The night air had cooled, but not by much. The village lights still shone farther down the hillside. Somewhere in the darkness, the cicadas were keeping at it. He sat on the stone bench Bea had made such a big deal of putting cushions on earlier and looked out over the dark valley.

A few hours ago, he’d been planning to spend the night in a villa with four bedrooms, three terraces, an infinity pool, and not one damn person he cared about inside it. Now, Bea was asleep twenty feet behind him. He rested his forearms on his knees and stared into the dark. Sex he understood, but this? This was something else.

Chapter Thirteen

Blane had decided he’d go back inside once he got chilly, but after a while he understood that chilly wasn’t going to happen. He could sit out here all night if he wanted. He shifted against the cushions.

The balcony door opened, and he turned his head as Bea peeked out at him. Her hair was mussed, her eyes still sleepy, but they widened when she saw him.

“Oh. You’re here.” There was no mistaking the relief on her face.

He got to his feet and went to close his arms around her. “Damn, Bea. You thought I’d just disappear into the night?”

She pressed her forehead into his chest. “In my defense, I didn’t really think at all. I didn’t have the chance. I just woke up, wondered why I felt so…” She laughed softly. “Happy. And then I remembered, but then I turned over and you weren’t there.”

Her shoulders lifted in a shrug, and her arms came around his waist, but she still didn’t look up. “You have to remember, Blane, the last time I navigated the waters of a new relationship was a very long time ago. I’m sure things have changed. And even apart from that, the only me who has any experience with this kind of thing is eighteen years old.”

He tightened his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her head.

“I have no clue how any of this works either. But I don’t think we need to.” He knew he’d said it wrong when she tipped her head back to look up at him, her eyes wide again.

“Shit. I didn’t mean it like that.”

She waited.

“I mean it doesn’t matter what other people do. Regular people.” He frowned. “What matters between us is what we want to do. Maybe more than that, who we are.” He paused. “I want to say that by now you should know I wouldn’t just disappear on you. But I get it. You can’t know that. Not yet.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’ll get the idea.”

“As I said, I didn’t have time to think it through. I just panicked. Momentarily. And besides, you’re here now.” A smile spread across her face. “Well, I suppose you were here all along, but you know what I mean. And isn’t it lovely out here? I don’t blame you for coming out. I don’t think the cicadas ever really go to sleep. They get drowsy, but—”

He smiled through pursed lips. “Bea.”

She pressed her lips together.

“Want to stop rambling and sit for a while?”

She slapped his arm but moved toward the bench.

He settled back against the cushions, and she sat beside him. He curled his arm around her shoulders. She was wearing some silky wrap thing, and he ran his hand up and down her arm, liking the feel of it almost as much as he liked the woman underneath it.

“You warm enough in that?”

A smile played on her lips as her gaze traveled over his bare chest. “I’m fine. And I’m not going to ask you the same thing.”