The Ivy House - By Drea Stein Page 0,35

wanted an explanation, but in the end, she had chickened out. Or didn’t want to hear the truth.

“I realized that there wasn’t much to be done about it. But at least she left me one thing.”

“I’m sorry,” Chase said. “I know it’s probably not what you expected, the house I mean.”

Phoebe almost felt the sting of tears against her eyes. How had he known what to say?

“Sorry.” Phoebe dashed a quick hand against her eyes and then took a deep breath. “I’m not usually like this. I can’t talk about them, my parents and Savannah, without breaking down in tears.”

“My parents died in a car crash,” she said to his unspoken question, “a long time ago.”

“Were they actors too?”

“Yes. Well, my dad was a director and my mom, an actress. Their careers were just starting to take off when they died. My mom didn’t really have any family, so that left Savannah.”

“It sounds tough, being alone like that,” he said, his dark blue eyes holding hers. Once again, she was hyperaware of everything around them.

Phoebe took a deep breath, determined to move away from her own story. “OK, so that’s me. What about you?”

“Me? Well, let’s see. I grew up in Queensbay, close to the water, with my parents and my brother. They’re retired now and live in Florida. My brother’s still around the area, but travels a lot, so we don’t get to hang out much.

“Sounds nice, normal.”

“Pretty normal,” he said with an easy smile, and Phoebe knew he was waiting for her to ask him what he did.

“I learned to sail right here. Spent some time as a sail bum and then came home to take over the family business. We sell boat stuff to boat people.”

“Perfect job for a guy like you.”

Chase smiled. “What can I say, I’m a simple guy.”

“I don’t buy that for a second,” Phoebe said.

Chase gave a shrug as if to say “no biggie,” but Phoebe thought there was a lot more behind those last words than he was letting on. Maybe she had misjudged him earlier. And it made him undeniably sexier.

“So you said you were working. Are you or aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” Phoebe said.

“You said you were, then weren’t…which is it, working or not?”

Phoebe stared down into her drink. Exactly the territory she didn’t want to veer into right now.

“I’m taking a break. To think things over.”

“What sort of things?” he pressed.

“You know, what to do with my life now that I am well and truly on my own.”

Phoebe didn’t know why she told him. Perhaps it was the two glasses of wine, or the calamari, which she hadn’t touched, so intent had she been on their conversation.

“Well, as you saw, when I was in The Garden Cottage, I’ve been designing my own things, housewares.”

“What are housewares, exactly? Plates?” Phoebe felt her eyes narrow as she looked him over carefully. A trace of a smile ghosted across his lips.

“Plates, pillows, curtains, sheets…”

“Sheets?” The full lips definitely curved up. “I like sheets. Better than plates,” Chase said, his voice dipping low, along with his head as he almost breathed the suggestion into her ear.

Phoebe forced herself to take a sip of the cool wine. Never had talking about sheets affected her in quite this way, she thought. Somehow, just that one word carried a whole lot of weight to it.

She squared her shoulders one more time, this time quickly and with enough force that Chase’s arm fell off the back of her chair. Feeling the weight lifted freed her, and she let a small smile of triumph grace her features.

“So you design things and, what, sell them?” He had taken her flinging his arm off the chair as a challenge because he had moved in even closer so that all she could smell was him. Nothing else but his clean scent, a combination of something spicy and fresh, almost windblown.

Phoebe smiled. “That would be the point.”

“You know my boat has beds, except we call them bunks…” he trailed off as he looked at her face.

Phoebe flushed. Chase was so close to her, almost as if they were the only two people in the whole bar. Everything about him oozed sex and suggestion, and she knew that if she let herself, she would be swept up into him, let his big, strong hands pull her towards him, let them roam over her. Thoughts of just where that might lead had her coming to her senses. He was someone who wanted something