Chapter Eleven
It turned out that arriving at Chania Airport in a private plane was very different from arriving on a charter flight with hundreds of fellow tourists.
There was no long queue to collect their luggage—Bear simply handed their bags to Blane.
Then there was no line to get through passport control.
Just a pleasant-looking chap who smiled and nodded, gave their passports a cursory glance and waved them through.
Before Bea had even figured out that she hadn’t managed to thank Bear, they were outside the terminal building.
She looked up at Blane. “I didn’t say goodbye or thank you.”
“That’s all right. I’ll let them know you said so.”
He had his duffel bag slung over his shoulder and stared out at the chaos in front of the terminal. People spilled outside, being herded toward buses. Cars fought for space at the curb, honking at each other.
And Blane stood still in the middle of it all, scanning the area. “There it is.” He pointed.
She looked but couldn’t see what he meant. “There what is?”
Blane took his phone out and scowled at the screen. “Yep. That’s really it.”
“Blane?”
He pursed his lips. “The car. Remember Cash lined one up for us?”
“Yes.” She waited, wondering what was coming next. So far, she knew Cash as the friend who’d encouraged Blane to go sightseeing, and the one who’d magically produced a jet so that he could accompany her to Crete. She really didn’t know what to expect when it came to a car.
Blane scowled. “It’s over there. Want me to take your bag or your hand?”
She placed her hand in his. “I can bring my bag. It has wheels and everything.”
He narrowed his eyes at her before leading her toward a small parking area where a couple of Mercedes sat, looking important. She didn’t know Cash, but somehow, they didn’t surprise her.
What did surprise her was when Blane stopped beside a small, dusty white SUV and glared at it. “This is it.”
She tried to keep the surprise out of her voice but didn’t quite manage it. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Blane let out a sigh as he opened the tailgate. “It’s my own damn fault.” He took her case, and by the time it and his duffel were inside, the tailgate barely closed over them.
“What do you mean?”
“I asked Cash for something small—I told him nothing flashy. Told him to get the opposite of whatever he’d get for himself.”
“What does he normally get for himself?”
“Has to have a damn black Suburban no matter where in the world he goes.” He made that little huffing sound she hadn’t heard from him in a while as he surveyed the dents and dust on the little white SUV. “I might’ve gone too far with opposite.”
Bea pressed her lips together.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Go ahead.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re about to.”
“I was merely wondering whether your knees will fit under the steering wheel.”
He gave her a look.
She patted the roof. “Oh well. It looks like a local. I’m sure it’ll know its way around.”
He met her gaze but didn’t say a word before going around to open the passenger door for her.
Once she was settled, she watched him slide the driver’s seat back. And back.
“Don’t.”
She widened her eyes. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Again. You were about to.”
She bit back a smile and then looked around. “Isn’t there a rental company we need to deal with or anything? Papers and… insurance. What about insurance, Blane?”
He lifted one shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Cash takes care of all that stuff.”
“And what about directions? Should we use my phone? I can pull up the GPS.”
“Studied the map. We’re good.”
She opened her mouth, but there really wasn’t any need to ask if he was sure. He looked absolutely certain, if a little dismayed.
“Well then.” She patted the dashboard. “We should probably be on our way, shouldn’t we? I’m sure this little thing will do fine. Maybe we can even name it.”
He slowly turned his head to look at her.
She laughed. “You haven’t even heard my suggestions.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“That seems very closed-minded.”
“It’s a car.”
“And?”
“Cars don’t need names.”
“Oh, now I definitely have to name it.”
He stared at her for another second before starting the engine.
“Or not,” she said brightly. “We’ll see.”
Blane pulled out of the parking area, and Bea automatically braced herself when he turned onto the road.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He glanced at her. “Bea.”
“You’re driving on the wrong side.”
“Right side. Car’s on it. All the other cars are on it. Seems right to me.”
She turned to stare at him. “You do realize that where I come from, you really are driving on the wrong side?”
“Not where you are now.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “That could become very annoying.”
His mouth twitched. “Probably.”
As they drove away from the airport, she settled back into her seat.
Her arrival was nothing like she’d expected.
Whenever she’d imagined finally landing in Crete, there had been no Blane and no dusty little white SUV in the picture.
But she was here, underneath the blue sky, passing white houses with the sun beating down, heading toward the house she’d chosen and the life she’d come here to begin.
It was everything she’d been hoping for. She glanced over at Blane. And more.
~ ~ ~
As they left the airport behind, Blane took in his surroundings.
The small white houses, the sun beating down, glimpses of the ocean between the buildings.
But no, it wasn’t ocean, it was the sea—the Mediterranean.
He glanced over at Bea. She was staring out the window at it all, a small smile on her face.
It was easy enough to follow the turns as he remembered them, coming down from the airport and heading toward the highway. Traffic wasn’t bad, but the roads were narrower than he was used to.
At the first roundabout, Bea grabbed the door handle.
“What?”
“You went the wrong way around.”
“Went the way the sign said.”
“I know. That doesn’t make it look any less wrong from where I’m sitting.”
He smiled through pursed lips. “You’re gonna have a rough time here, darlin’.”
She let out a short laugh. “I’ll get used to it at some point, I’m sure.”
She was quiet after that, and he focused on the road, letting her take it all in. This wasn’t just a trip for her; she was arriving in her new life.
They headed east on the highway, passing through towns, some of them looking like tourist resorts, with tavernas dotted along the roadside.
When they eventually turned south, the terrain opened up.
The road was surprisingly good. Only one lane each way, but wide enough that slower vehicles edged onto the shoulder to let faster traffic pass.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Bea murmured.
He nodded, not sure she was really asking him.
It was beautiful. Greener than he’d expected, too.
Olive groves stretched away on either side of the road, and they passed through one village after another.
Eventually, the road narrowed so much between the buildings that, for the first time, Blane was grateful for the small SUV.
There was no way Cash’s damn Suburban would have fit through here.
“We’re nearly there,” she told him as he raised a hand in thanks to the driver of an old pickup who’d waited to let him through.
The old guy raised one finger from the steering wheel in acknowledgment. That, as much as anything he’d seen so far, made Blane feel comfortable here.
“About ten minutes now, I reckon.”
She turned to look at him. “How on earth do you know that?”
“Studied the map, like I said.”
She turned in her seat and pointed through the windshield. “It’s just up there, Blane. I can’t wait for you to see it.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” He meant it.
He turned off the main road onto one even narrower. The landscape here was rough, there was nothing manicured about it, but it was lush and green. Olive trees everywhere, pink flowers on bushes he didn’t recognize growing wild along the roadside.
The road began to climb, twisting back and forth between houses. In places it seemed to curve around nothing more than a tree or a rock. He rounded one blind corner and slammed on the brakes when a goat stepped into the road.
Bea grabbed the door handle with one hand and the dashboard with the other. “Blane?”
“It’s okay. It’ll move.”
When it didn’t, he started to steer around it. The damn thing stepped forward and blocked the road completely.
Bea laughed softly.
“It’ll move,” he said again.
The goat stared at him.
Blane stared back.
“Move.”
The goat didn’t move.
“I don’t think it speaks American,” said Bea.
He kept staring at the goat.
After another couple of seconds, it gave a long, baleful bleat and finally sauntered off the road.
Bea laughed out loud. “You just tried to intimidate a goat.”
He lifted one shoulder. “Worked.”
He pulled forward, taking it a little slower this time. Cash had said something about goats all over the road when they talked last night. Blane had thought he was joking. Turned out, not so much.
The road continued to climb, and when he rounded the next corner, the view opened up in front of them.
Bea pointed higher into the foothills.
“There. That’s my village.”
Blane looked where she was pointing. Then he looked at her. My village. He liked the sound of that coming from her. She’d already claimed this little place on the hillside.
A few minutes later, she was confidently directing him up a steep road past the church and little taverna, between a couple of small stone houses, until they emerged above the village.
“There it is.” The words came out softly, almost a whisper.
Blane followed her gaze.