The Ivy House - By Drea Stein Page 0,46

do, but something about his eyes pinned her in her seat and she felt a warmth spread over her, starting between her legs and crawling up over her body. She’d never had this reaction to a man just from his look. The question was what to do about it.

“Well, then I guess we have a deal.”

Phoebe smiled. “I suppose so.”

“Well, here’s to a profitable friendship,” he said. His eyes held hers and his intercom rang again.

She got up, pulling her bag with her.

“Thanks for stopping by. Next time, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

“That would be lovely,” Phoebe said, feeling awkward. “I guess I’ll be hearing from you.”

“Consider the deal done. I guess you better get to work. Are you going to be heading back to California to get started? I have to get out to the stores there soon. I am sure I could look you up?”

Phoebe remembered what Caitlyn had started to say about the house, so she smiled, chin drawn up, and channeled her best Savannah look.

“You know, one of the best things about a job like mine is that I take inspiration wherever I can find it.”

Chase had moved around the desk and they were standing close to one another. She could see the way his lips curled up in amusement, and she could feel in her stomach the way his low voice unnerved her.

“Are you feeling inspired?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

“As it so happens, I have always found that being by the water fills me with a lot of energy.”

He looked at her, a slow grin spreading over his face and she felt her body respond to him, heat licking through her as he took her hand to shake it and then brought it up to skim against his lips.

“Just creative energy?” he murmured.

“You can have my designs, but you can’t have me,” she responded.

“Are you sure about that? I told you: I always get what I want.”

She was stunned into silence for a moment, until the door opened, and the redheaded lady bustled in.

“Looks like that’s my cue to go,” she managed to stammer out, knowing she needed to get out and away from him.

Chapter 20

“Is that a hard hat?” Phoebe stopped in surprise, looking at what Chase had in his hands.

“Yes, it is. Safety first.” Phoebe looked up quickly to see if he meant anything by that. There it was, just that sexy-as-hell Chase Sanders grin.

“But it’s pink,” Phoebe said.

“Well, it is for a girl.” Chase said. He took a step forward and she saw that he was dressed casually in faded jeans and a v-neck t-shirt that clung to his chest and abdomen, which showed off how flat his stomach was and the nice taper up to his broad shoulders. Stop thinking about his shoulders, she reminded herself.

“A girl?” Phoebe turned her attention back to the hard hat that Chase was still proffering. “Excuse me… For a lady,” he corrected himself.

“A lady.” Phoebe put down her bag on the scarred wood floor and took the helmet from Chase.

“You said the other day you were going to fix the old lady up, so I thought I’d give you a little housewarming present. And see if you needed a hand.”

“You can fix houses?” Phoebe heard the doubt creeping into her voice. She glanced around the room. Chase had found her in her studio, the light flooding in from the bank of windows. She had picked up some paint samples at the local hardware store, and there were large squares of them on the wall so she could decide between Café au Lait and Creamy Blond.

“No, but I know people around here who can. I would be happy to recommend some names to you. All good guys.”

Phoebe nodded. She had wondered if she’d have to resort to looking through Yellow Pages to find the names of plumbers and electricians, and the thought had filled her with dread. Taking a recommendation from someone was a much better move. Still, it was a lot of interest on Chase’s part for a house he professed to have no interest in.

“Do you treat all of your business acquaintances this way?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light. Right now, the room had one wall of built-in shelves, with cabinets on the bottom. She examined the hard hat more closely.

“I told you, we’re partners now. Hopefully, very profitable ones,” he countered.

Phoebe hefted the hard hat. It was heavier than she expected. “They really make pink ones?”

Chase laughed.