Page 93 of The Best Thing He Never Wanted

For a moment she stared back. He didn’t look particularly threatening, and when she tried a tentative smile, she half expected him to return it the way almost everyone else in the village would have done by now. Instead, he simply kept staring. It was a little unnerving, but there had to be a dozen perfectly innocent reasons why a man might stand beneath a tree and look around him, even if she couldn’t think of a single one right now. There was certainly nothing inherently sinister about standing in the shade and observing your surroundings. Except, as she slowly backed through the gate, she couldn’t quite convince herself that he was merely observing his surroundings. His gaze stayed fixed on her.

She shuddered as she turned and hurried back inside, then did her best to dismiss the whole thing once she was safely in the kitchen. Perhaps it was simply that he was the first person she’d come across who hadn’t been openly friendly. So far, everyone in the village had been so welcoming that one unsmiling stranger probably felt more significant than he really was.

She filled two glasses with ice, poured water over them, and carried them back outside, fully intending to put the man out of her mind.

Blane was scowling by the time she reached him.

She looked down at the glasses. “You did want water, didn’t you?”

“I did. Thanks.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Why do you think there’s something wrong?”

“Your eyebrows—they give you away every time.” She laughed and almost brushed it off. If it were anyone else, she probably would have. But this was Blane, and for some reason that made all the difference. “Nothing’s wrong, exactly. But there was a man out in the lane.”

Deep furrows appeared between his brows as he got to his feet. “What did he do?”

She put a hand on his arm. “He didn’t do anything, Blane. It’s all right. It just seemed a little strange.”

His whole demeanor had changed, and for the first time since London she was reminded of the other side of him, the one that could become so completely still when something caught his attention. He wasn’t tense or agitated, but every part of him seemed suddenly focused.

“Can you describe him?”

It seemed faintly ridiculous to describe the poor man as though he were a possible suspect when he hadn’t actually done a thing. “Greek?” she said with a smile.

“Bea.”

“Oh, all right. I’d guess he was around our age—late fifties, perhaps early sixties. Dark hair. Jeans and a blue T-shirt.” She shrugged. “Which could probably describe half the male population of the village, couldn’t it? Honestly, Blane, he didn’t do anything wrong. It was just a little unnerving, the way he was looking toward the house.”

She smiled, wanting to make light of it. “Perhaps he’s on a first date and has come to pick up his lady but isn’t sure which house she lives in. I’m sure there are a dozen perfectly innocent explanations.”

Blane’s jaw worked. “What else can you tell me? What made it feel off?” He held her gaze. “Think about it, Bea.”

And because it was Blane doing the asking, she did.

“The front door was open,” she admitted. “That was why I went outside in the first place. We haven’t used it today, and I thought it was strange. Then I saw that the gate was open too.”

He didn’t say anything, so she thought about it a little more and realized she probably knew what the problem was. She was scrambling unrelated things together, adding two and two and making seventy-three. The plants she’d found outside the gate the other day had unnerved her a little, and then earlier today she’d thought she heard a car door only to find no one there. Now the front door and gate had been standing open, and then she’d spotted a man in the lane. Each thing on its own was completely unremarkable. She’d simply bundled them all together until the man beneath the tree had become the final piece of a puzzle that probably didn’t exist.

She looked up into Blane’s eyes. “Honestly? Probably nothing. I think I’ve unnerved myself.”

She didn’t need to tell him about the rest. She still couldn’t swear that she hadn’t moved those plants herself, and she hadn’t actually seen a car earlier. He was used to dealing with real security and actual threats, and she wasn’t going to feed him a collection of things that might never have happened in the first place.

He still didn’t look convinced, but instead of arguing, he took her hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” she asked, following him anyway.

“To see if he’s still there.”

Of course he wasn’t, and as they stood outside the front gate in the perfectly peaceful, completely empty lane, Bea felt more than a little embarrassed.

She patted Blane’s arm. “I think this was simply a case of me giving myself the creeps and you using your superpowers of observation to notice.” She smiled up at him. “Although I do feel very lucky that you’re observing me so closely.”

She reached up and kissed his cheek. He stayed still for another couple of moments, his gaze moving slowly up and down the lane, but when she rested her hand in the middle of his chest, he finally looked down at her.

“You really don’t think it was anything?”