“I know.” I smiled.
“So let me.” He seemed like he was asking for something, something he needed from me but couldn’t quite find the words to say in that moment, so I nodded again.
“Okay.”
We drove in silent contemplation over the Lions Gate Bridge until we approached a set of impressive wrought iron gates to an estate along the shore of West Vancouver.
I’d never been to Beau’s home before, but if the driveway was anything to go by, I suspected it was something rather amazing.
I was right.
There, looking right over the bay and Stanley Park, was a two-story impressive yet not imposing home that fit Beau’s personality perfectly. The lines of the building were all clean and modern. Black and grey made up the colour scheme, and skilfully worked into the clean lines was a stone chimney that ran up the side of the building and extended a few feet past the edge of the roof.
It was brilliant.
It was elegant and inviting.
It was Beau.
Carlos pulled the town car up and parked it outside the entrance. It was only then that I noticed the black SUV that parked behind us.
I turned around and saw Jason fold out of the driver’s side.
Beau slid out of his seat before offering his hand to me. I always took his hand and he helped me out of the car.
He stood in front of me in his driveway, rubbing his hands up and down my arms. “I’m so sorry to leave you like this.” He frowned. It was so exactly like him to be worried about me when something had happened to him. “Carlos will drive you home. I’ve got to pack and get to the airport.”
I nodded, and the front door opened before I could answer.
“I’ll take her.”
My eyes moved to see Maverick in another black fitted Henley, cargo pants, the kind only army men wore, and boots walking towards us.
“Hart,” Jason acknowledged him.
“MacLean.” Maverick did the same in return.
Beau looked to him as he approached, and then recognition slid over his features. “Security check?”
Maverick nodded.
“Of course,” Beau agreed.
“Carlos will drive both you and Jason to the airport so he can accompany you to Calgary.” Maverick spoke directly to the men, and he never once looked at me while he did it.
“That’s settled then.” Beau turned his attention back to me. “Hart will take you home.”
The idea of being trapped alone in a car with Maverick for thirty minutes made me nervous, but still, I said, “Okay.”
I didn’t want to be difficult for Beau.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and gently pulled me to him. “Call you when I get back?”
“Okay.” I smiled, and his lips found mine in a sweet kiss.
It turned out that maybe the thing that made Beau Callaway human was that his life, like the rest of ours, was unpredictable and sometimes very, very sad.
“Fly safe,” I said as our lips parted. “I’ll pray for your father.”
Beau picked me up and spun me around in a half circle. “Goodnight, Charleston.”
He set my feet back on the ground and transferred me to Maverick, who led me to the other black SUV with his hand at the small of my back.
I looked up the driveway and watched as Beau disappeared into his house before pulling at the door handle for the backseat. It was locked.
Maverick laughed from behind me, and I turned to see what was so funny.
He looked at my hand on the door. “I’m not Carlos, Princess.” He shook his head. “And this ain’t a taxi.”
I was a little in my head then. Something about the evening’s mood had sunk. So, I didn’t respond.
This seemed to catch him off guard and his expression softened. Reaching past me, he pulled open the door to the passenger seat. “Up front, babe.”
“Okay.” I climbed into the seat and Maverick shut the door behind me.
I watched as he stalked around the hood of the vehicle, his massive frame eventually settling into the driver’s side next to me. I noted with vague interest that he had the seat back as far as it could go just to fit his body behind the wheel.
Kicking my boots off, I tucked my legs up under me and leaned into the door with my head on the glass.
“Seat belt,” Maverick barked, but it lacked his usual belt.
I didn’t move.
I was retreating into my mind.
He reached over, wrapped his hand around the bicep closest to him, and pulled my body upright. “Princess. Seat belt. Now.”
I glared through the windshield, but went through the motions and leaned back into my original position against the door, shivering when my cheek pressed against the cold glass.
Maverick, satisfied that I was buckled down, drove up the driveway. He stopped, pressing a button on the rear-view mirror, and the gates started to open. While he waited, I saw him twist his large body out of the corner of my eye and reach into the backseat.
“Here.” He draped what looked to be a man’s ski jacket over my thighs.