Chapter Thirteen #2
“Last night,” she said, because apparently, she was going to make herself say it.
His mouth twitched. “Told you they might come in useful.”
“You’re quite pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”
“Kinda, yeah. But you researched this bakery, so we should go see it.” He looked around at the weeds and rubble. “And then there’s the garden center. We should get going.”
When they were back in the little white SUV, she clung to the door handle and braced her other hand against the dashboard as he drove down the hill.
“I’m on the right side of the road,” he told her with a smirk.
“I know, but the road seems much steeper and more winding now that I’m facing the fact that I’ll have to drive it every day.”
“Thought you planned to walk.”
“Only until I get a car. I need to do something about that at some point.”
“Want to get onto that today?”
“No, not yet. Not for a couple of weeks. I want to get the hang of things first.” She turned to him. “I don’t want you to think I need you as a chauffeur, though.”
He shot her a quick look as he brought the SUV to a stop before pulling out onto the main road. “I know you don’t need me for anything, darlin’. I’m just happy you’re letting me tag along.”
When they reached the bakery, it turned out that Blane had as much of a sweet tooth as she did.
While she asked for baklava, he studied the displays of pastries, and the woman behind the counter offered them samples.
It was quite something to watch the pleasure on his face as he worked his way through them.
By the time they left the bakery, they had far more pastries than either of them needed, and by the time they’d finished at the garden center, the back of the little SUV was filled with everything Bea had decided she needed to make a start.
~ ~ ~
Instead of parking out on the road when they got back to the house, Blane drove a little farther down the lane and pulled through a gap in the wall that looked as though it used to hold a gate.
“Oh.” Bea looked over at him. “Do you think this is okay?”
“It’s your house, your land. Why wouldn’t it be?” He frowned as he looked back at the wall. He’d assumed this whole section belonged to her.
“You’re right. There’s no reason why not, is there?
I told you there’s quite a bit of land with the property.
At some point I should get out and walk it, see where the property lines actually are.
But yes, this part is mine. All the way past the entrance and halfway across that next field, according to the paperwork. ”
Blane looked across the low wall that separated her yard from the field. He was about to ask how the hell it worked that she owned half a field, but she was already getting out and going around to the tailgate.
By the time he caught up with her, she was lifting out one of the bags of potting soil they’d bought at the garden center. He wanted to take it from her but knew better. Instead, he grabbed the other two, leaving her with the trays of plants and the bag of pastries.
She made a face at him. “Thank you. I’m only going to take a few minutes to place these for now. That way I can see how they look when I come back out, make sure it works before I do anything permanent.”
He frowned. “Thought you wanted to get right to it out here?”
“I do, and I will after lunch. I need to make us—”
He set the bags down and stepped toward her. “You don’t need to make us a damn thing, Bea. I can do lunch.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t. You mustn’t…” She stopped, apparently unable to find the end of that sentence.
He folded his arms across his chest and waited.
She laughed softly. “What?”
“Was about to ask you the same thing. What’s the problem? You don’t want me in your kitchen? Don’t trust me to make us something edible? Or…?”
“Oh, you! It’s not that. It’s that you’re…” She lifted one shoulder.
“You mean I’m your guest and you’re supposed to be the good host?”
She nodded.
“Come here.”
He held an arm out to her, and when she stepped against him, he liked the feel of her there way too much.
“Listen, Bea. I know this is your new house—your new home. And if hosting me is important to you, I’m not trying to take that away from you.
But from what I can tell, what you’re most excited about is getting to work on your garden.
All I’m saying is, if that’s what you want to do, then do it. I can make us some lunch.”
She looked up at him, and he dropped a kiss on her lips before he even thought about doing it.
“I’m used to working as part of a team. Everybody does what they’re good at, and if there’s something somebody actually wants to do, you make room for them to do it.”
She rested her hand in the middle of his chest. He loved the way she did that.
“Okay, then. Thank you. I’d love to get started out here, and you’re right, of course.
I know you’re perfectly capable of throwing together some lunch.
And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply…” She shook her head.
“Well, anything, really. I suppose I’m simply not used to the kind of teamwork you mean. ”
“Yeah.” He knew exactly what she meant. The more he heard about her and her life, the more inclined he was to believe Simon must have been an asshole who, at best, had failed to see what a lucky bastard he was.
She was still watching him, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel like he was judging her or pitying her, so he smiled. “You’d better get to it, then, and I’ll go see what I can rustle up for us to eat.”
He turned back just before he went inside. She was already moving trays of plants to where she wanted them. “Bea.”
She turned around, looking guilty.
“Relax. I was just going to ask if you mind me checking the wiring to that light in the kitchen.”
“Oh, I…” She hesitated.
He frowned.
She laughed and waved a hand at him. “I suppose, in the spirit of teamwork, I’ll just say yes, please.”
That made him smile. “Thanks.”
He didn’t bother to explain that he enjoyed fixing things before they became an issue. If she didn’t already know that she’d learn soon enough.
Inside, he took a look at the wire running across the kitchen ceiling to the light fixture and traced it back.
The cable had been run along the surface rather than buried in the stone, and as far as he could see, there was nothing wrong with the wiring itself.
One section had sagged where a clip had pulled away from the ceiling, though, and the whole thing looked untidy enough to bother him.
It was fine for now. He’d secure it properly tomorrow. He stood looking at it for a moment. Tomorrow? How many tomorrows was he planning on being here? He turned away before he got too far into that question and opened the fridge instead.
There were plenty of eggs, and he already knew Bea liked omelets, so that was easy enough. He could put together a salad with tomatoes and feta, and they had bread from the bakery and olives too. He nodded to himself. Plenty there to make them something decent.
He’d just started opening cupboards in search of a pan—and discovered that absolutely nothing in this kitchen seemed to be where he thought it should be—when his phone rang.
Cash. He scowled at the screen before answering. “What’s up?”
“I’m calling to ask you the same thing, bud. What happened to you?”
“What do you mean? Nothing happened to me. Why?”
“You didn’t make it to the villa. I woke up to an email asking why nobody checked in.”
“Oh, shit. I didn’t think about that. Should’ve let you know.”
“Not a problem. I was worried about you, that’s all.”
Blane leaned back against the counter. “Bullshit.”
Cash laughed. “What do you mean, bullshit? That’s not a nice thing to say. I book you a villa, you don’t show up, I hear about it, so I call to find out if you’re all right. Where’s the bullshit in that?”
Blane had to laugh. “You know damn well where. You’re not worried about me. You’re prying; you want to know where I am.”
Cash laughed with him. “Half right. I’ve got a pretty damn good idea where you are, and I’m hoping I’m right. But yeah, I’m prying. How’s it going? You’re with Bea, right?”
Blane glanced outside. “Yeah, I am. I was gonna head over to that place you booked, but Jesus, Cash, why the hell did you book me something like that?”
“It was all I could find close by. And I figured if you wanted to invite Bea over to your place, it wouldn’t be a bad one. You’ve got the pool, the ocean view—”
Blane shook his head with a smile. “And all that shit matters to you. You know me better than that.”
“Normally I’d say yeah, but I don’t know you when there’s a woman involved. I didn’t know if you’d want…” Cash stopped. “Hell, I didn’t know.”
“Surely to God you didn’t think I’d want to impress her. Not with a house with a view and a pool anyway.”
“I didn’t know what to think. Figured it couldn’t do any harm. But that’s beside the point now. You stayed with Bea. That’s way better.” There was a pause. “Want me to keep the place in case you decide to move over there?”
“No. I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here.”
It was only when Cash laughed that Blane realized how adamant he must have sounded.
“Things are going well, then?”
He looked through the window to where Bea stood in the middle of the yard, a tray of plants in her hands as she looked around with a small smile on her face.
“Yeah, Cash. It’s going great.” His smile faded. “But wait. Do you need me?”
“Would I have booked that villa for three weeks if I did?”
Blane sucked in a breath. “Three weeks?”
“Yeah. I’d give you longer, but we’ve got all the teams coming in next month, remember? You, me, and Mav all need to be here for that.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. No problem. I hadn’t forgotten. I just…”
Cash let the silence drag out for a few moments. “Just that your mind’s been on other things, right?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
Blane looked out at Bea again before turning away. “So, what else is going on?”