Chapter Six
By the time Blane left the team, he was equally grateful to Cash for nagging him into it and pissed at him for costing him the start of the evening with Bea.
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw as he marched down the concourse.
It wasn’t fair to be mad at Cash, and he knew it.
He’d blown things with Bea all by himself before Cash ever called.
But that wasn’t the point. He could maybe have salvaged it.
Could have gone to reception, asked them to get a message to her about …
What the hell was he even thinking? It didn’t matter. He hadn’t done it. But he was here now.
As he pushed through the doors and headed toward his usual spot, he realized he was assuming she’d be here.
Taking it for granted. But she’d told him herself that she was here all three nights, so it wasn’t an unreasonable expectation.
The moment he was through the doors, he looked over—and something settled inside him when he spotted her.
She was dancing in her seat again, looking as though she’d pretty much forgotten she was here alone.
But that was the way it went. A single night was an anomaly.
Over three nights, she’d had the chance to settle into it, get familiar with her surroundings and …
Why the hell was he running an assessment on her?
He didn’t need to do that. In fact, he glanced back at the dark corner behind him. He didn’t even need to do this. The team knew he was here now. They’d given him shit—in the best way—for not letting them know sooner but they were glad he’d come. And …
He looked over at Bea again.
Why the hell not? He only had the next couple of hours to make the most of her company. He wouldn’t even get to ride the tube back to the hotel with her afterward, thanks to Cash.
So he straightened his hat and stepped out of the shadows.
He was going up there. He’d just have to trust that she wouldn’t mind him taking that empty seat beside her.
Maybe with him there for company, she’d feel brave enough to get up and dance the way she obviously wanted to.
He could stand in the corner and watch over her, guard her drink, do what those guys up there were already doing while their women danced.
But as he made his way toward her section, his stride faltered. She was getting down from her barstool. He waited. Maybe she was heading for the ladies’ room—he could catch her out on the concourse.
But no. The band had just launched into one of their biggest hits, an upbeat number even he knew, and Bea joined the little group of women in the space behind her seat.
She was dancing.
He could feel the smile spread across his face and let it stay.
He was proud of her. She’d found the courage all on her own.
He marched on. She hadn’t needed him for it—but he could still stand in the corner and watch.
He slowed as he approached. It was easy to see that she was having a great time, dancing uninhibited, laughing, and singing with the women around her.
He almost turned away, not wanting to interrupt.
But she spotted him, and the way her eyes lit up pulled him forward.
When he was almost there, she held out a hand, beckoning him to join her—and that stopped him in his tracks. He didn’t dance. He shoved his hands into his pockets, hoping he wasn’t about to spoil the moment.
She beckoned again, but he shrugged and moved to the side, jaw tight, waiting for her reaction.
He didn’t want to make her stop. Didn’t want her to feel she had to.
At the same time, he didn’t want her disappointed by his refusal to join her.
To his relief, she kept right on dancing, even as she nodded her understanding.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Happiness seemed to come off her in waves. He could have watched all night.
But the song ended, and she wiped her brow as she came over to him. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Yeah. Me too. Sorry it took a while, but …” He turned his head as the next song started.
The other women were drifting back to their seats, pulling out their phones to hold up the flashlights as the band launched into a song Blane recognized as a slow ballad.
He looked into Bea’s eyes, the blood rushing in his temples.
He couldn’t believe he was going to do this. But he was.
He reached for her hand. Her gaze flew up to meet his. “Want to dance?”
“Oh …” Her eyes went wide. “Oh, yes. I … I assumed you meant you didn’t dance.”
He smiled. “I don’t. But this is a slow song.” He curled an arm around her waist. She flattened one palm against his chest, and they began to shuffle together in the dark.
“Not dancing,” he murmured. He knew he’d never forget the smile on her face as she nodded up at him.
“Oh no. We’re definitely not dancing. I know you don’t do that. You’re just …” She glanced around them. “Keeping me company. Isn’t that right?”
“Yeah. That’s it. Keeping you company.” His mouth twitched.
“Well. You have to shuffle to a slow song. No dancing required.”
“And you were already up and on your feet. It’d be a shame to make you sit down again just for me.” He brought his hand up to cover hers, pressing them both flat against his chest.
The last time he’d attempted to date a woman, it had ended badly—with her calling him a heartless bastard. But with Bea’s little hand resting there over it, there was no doubt that he had a heart.
Or that it was in trouble.
~ ~ ~
Bea rested her cheek against his shoulder.
She knew she probably shouldn’t, but she couldn’t have stopped herself if she’d tried.
It just felt like the perfect moment. She hadn’t been sure she’d work up the nerve to dance alone.
And she certainly hadn’t dreamed that she’d get the chance to dance with Blane like this.
She smiled against his shirt. To not dance; they were only shuffling.
And it was the best dance of her life. She knew that without a doubt, and it was no exaggeration. She closed her eyes when he rested his chin on top of her head. She didn’t so much hear his voice as feel it rumble through his chest and into her.
“This okay?”
She nodded before tipping her head back to look into those beautiful gray eyes. “This is so much more than okay, Blane. This is perfect. Thank you.”
The crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened as he nodded. “It’s pretty perfect from where I’m standing too.”
At that moment, the song ended and the lights flared amber and blue again. He gave her a rueful smile as he straightened and let her go.
But she didn’t want to be let go. So she caught his hand, not knowing quite what she meant to do with it. “Do you have to go back into the shadows?”
“Not if you don’t want me to.”
“I really don’t.” She nodded toward the empty stool beside hers. “And there’s a spare seat. Meg was supposed to …” She hesitated. “Would you like to …?”
He squeezed her hand. “Yeah, Bea. I would. I’d like that a lot.”
She reached over to move the jacket that had kept her company these last couple of nights.
It hadn’t fooled her—or anyone else—that she wasn’t here alone.
But it had made her feel less so. And now she didn’t need it, because Blane was here.
That little fizz rippled through her chest again.
He was here. And if only for the next hour or so, she really wasn’t alone.
He waited for her to sit before he took the stool beside her.
It wasn’t exactly designed for a man his size.
His knees pushed up against the barrier in front of them, but he didn’t look uncomfortable.
In fact, when he turned and smiled at her, she guessed he might be just as pleased about this turn of events as she was.
They both turned when Tina appeared behind them, reaching between them to place another glass of wine in front of Bea.
“Here you go, Bea. This one’s on me, sweetie.”
“Oh, Tina, thank you. You didn’t need to do that.”
Tina beamed. “Oh, I did. That was always my plan.” She turned to Blane and nodded. “I’ve been wondering all weekend who that stool was waiting for. I’m glad you finally made it.” She looked him over. “What are you drinking? That’s on me too.”
Blane reached for his back pocket. “That’s okay. I can—”
Tina planted her hands on her hips. “I don’t care how big and tough you look.
I’m not standing for any arguments. And if it helps, I’m not really doing it for you.
This is for Bea. She’s been lovely all weekend, but it was easy to see she was missing something.
” She glanced between them. “Watching you two dance like that, I understand why. So, this is me buying you a drink. A thank-you.” She smiled.
“I knew she was a special lady. Nice to finally see her happy with her man.”
Bea inhaled sharply, not sure where to look—or whether she ought to explain, so Blane wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.
It turned out the man didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. Or he covered it well.
He reached for Bea’s hand, gave it a squeeze, and said to Tina, “Makes me happy you can see how special she is. Glad I made it too. I’ll take a beer. Thanks, Tina.”
After Tina brought his drink, he raised his glass to Bea, and she tapped her wine against it. She didn’t know what they were drinking to, and he didn’t say. But he nodded, and she nodded back, and it felt like the right toast, whatever it meant.
She wasn’t going to think about tomorrow.
He’d be leaving, no doubt, and on Tuesday morning, so would she.
Tonight, she was simply going to enjoy the rest of the evening with him.
And afterward she’d carry the memory of him with her.
He’d turned this strange, limbo weekend—the one between her old life and her new one—into a little oasis. She’d never forget him.
He rested his arm along the back of her seat and leaned closer, and she turned to him like a flower to the sun, goosebumps racing over her skin.
“She was right, you know. Tina.” His gaze held hers. “You’re a special lady, Bea.”