The Ivy House - By Drea Stein Page 0,76

but like I told you, that was just for show.”

“Was?”

“Every sailor needs to find a home port,” Chase said. He held out a hand and she took it, and he pulled her onto his lap, cradling her there.

He didn’t say it, she noticed. He didn’t say the words that she wanted to hear. Only promised her that he was being faithful for now. Phoebe swallowed hard and leaned her head into his shirt, feeling the steady beating rhythm of his heart. She had her answer. She was in love with Chase Sanders, a man who saw her as another one of his business investments. Savannah had warned her about giving her heart away too freely. But she hadn’t ever, not to Dean, not to anyone. Chase had her, if he wanted her, but he’d never said he wanted the same things from her, from life, as she did.

“Are you OK?” he whispered into her hair. All of a sudden, she felt sick, her heart pounding, her stomach churning.

“No, you know, I think maybe I better sit this night out.”

“What?” He pulled away from her, searching her face.

“No big deal, I’ll just walk back to the house. You go, I know you were looking forward to seeing the band. So don’t change your plans on account of me.”

“But, let me drive you at least.”

Phoebe shook her head, resolute. “No, I think the fresh air would be good.”

“I’ll walk you home. Do you want anything, soup or something? You barely ate anything.”

“No, I’ll be fine. You’ll be late if you walk me home and, besides, if I don’t feel better, I know a doctor or two.”

She gave him no more time to think, but was already opening the sliding door into his living room, finding her purse, slipping into her shoes. He trailed after her, clearly puzzled, one hand running through his hair.

“Are you sure?”

She leaned over, gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I just need some sleep, some rest. Listen, I don’t want to get you or especially Caitlyn sick.”

“I’ll call you later.” His voice trailed down the hallway after her as she moved quickly to the stairs, intent on getting out of there as quickly as possible.

The rest of the hotel passed in a blur and she emerged onto the sidewalk, breathing the fresh air, feeling the thudding of her heart in her ears. She was in love with a man who wasn’t capable of it. How could she have let this happen?

Chapter 35

It took Chase a moment to spot her amidst the throng of kids surrounding her. She was at a booth and apparently making some sort of giant sculpture out of newspaper strips applied to a tower of blown-up party balloons. Paper-mache, Chase remembered from an art class long ago.

Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and she was layering strips of soggy newspaper as the kids called out suggestions to her. She had a whole crowd of them enthralled or rolling on the floor with laughter. Phoebe looked beautiful, relaxed, unconcerned and in her element. Any of the shyness or the iciness he had seen was gone, focused as she was on creating and working with the kids.

She lifted one of them up, a little boy with shaggy blond hair and blue eyes, so he could slap a piece of newspaper strip on what was rapidly becoming some sort of not-so-scary monster. Overjoyed, the little boy clapped his hands, and as Phoebe set him down, she ruffled his hair.

Chase’s heart clenched. It was at that moment that the sun emerged from the clouds and a shaft of sunlight shot down; Phoebe was momentarily suffused with light, and Chase felt the ground shift beneath him as his whole being attuned to her. He couldn’t stop staring at her, feeling that this was finally the moment, the moment when he felt his world shift, the planets align, and stars shine brightly.

Phoebe was his everything. He always thought that love was something he wouldn’t experience. It seemed like something for other people. He wasn’t that type of guy. He was a wanderer, an adventurer. Women, in his mind, were wonderful creatures. They smelled good, they were fun to be with and most of them made him happy, at least for a short while.

But none of them, until Phoebe, had ever been able to make him feel alive. Sure, he’d had an adrenaline rush from steering a fifty-foot boat along in rough seas or from the thrill