by Drea Stein
He took a moment, breaking free, and peeled them off one leg at a time, until she was naked except for her lacy cream underwear. He touched there, felt the evidence of her arousal, and peeled those off too. She was naked before him and he stroked her, watching as her head fell back and her hips rose to meet him.
Phoebe had never felt so wanton, so full of desire. So far, Chase had used nothing but his mouth and his hands on her, but her whole body was alight, tingling from his touch. Her hips angled up to him, as he stroked her sex, while his other hand brought her nipples to attention and his mouth ravaged hers, his stubbled skin brushing against the sensitive surface of her cheek.
Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt and she managed undo them, and she let her hands roam along his back, his chest, and his flat abdomen, and then she dipped below, found that he was aroused, hard for her, but still he kept up his assault, demanding that she do nothing but let herself be taken, and she did, riding the waves of pleasure until he slipped inside her and she wrapped her legs, pulling him deep inside of her, clenching around him, matching his rhythm as she moaned his name and he answered with hers. Then, she tumbled down into darkness, her body releasing as she felt his release wash over her.
Phoebe lay still, very still. Chase was on top of her, a dead weight that did not seem to want to move. His arm was on her stomach and she gently tried to wiggle free.
“Sorry,” he said and rolled over to the side, pulling her close to him. His hand stroked her hair and his mouth nibbled on her shoulder.
“I suppose that was worth the wait,” Phoebe said after a moment, after her heart stopped thudding quite so fast and the blood had receded from her ears.
His arms encircled her, pulling her in tight and close and, for a moment, Phoebe felt that she could stay like this forever, in the circle of his arms, happy and satisfied.
“It was for me,” he said, his teeth nipping at her ear.
Chapter 33
They got cold. And hungry. Night had fallen and the breeze from the open window had become downright cold. She felt herself shiver, and Chase got up, pulled the throw from the bottom of the bed over her, and started dressing. Her heart sank at the thought of him leaving, but she tried to keep her face from showing it.
He only buttoned two buttons and pulled his jeans up, leaving the top undone.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I heard your stomach growl.”
“Did not,” she started to say, just as it did so again.
One eyebrow went up.
“I’ll bring it up here,” he said. Phoebe looked around. Her comforter was a custom silk one that she’d designed herself and had shipped to her. As romantic as eating in bed sounded, she couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to it.
“Oh, no you won’t.” She pulled the blanket around her and swung her legs out of bed, hunting for her clothes. “No eating in bed.”
“Doesn’t that depend on the menu?” he said, pulling her to him. She wasn’t sure that they would make it downstairs, but then her stomach growled and he let her go.
“I’ll go set everything up,” he said and bounded from the room. Phoebe watched him go. The expression on his face was like that of a very happy puppy.
She took more than a moment, running a quick shower and finding a pair of casual linen pants, a fresh t-shirt, and sweater to wrap herself in. The hot water sluiced over her, and she tried to clear her head. It means nothing, she told herself. She shouldn’t let herself get too wrapped up in him. It couldn’t be permanent. Not for him, and that was what she wanted. Sooner or later, someone was going to get hurt. But for now, she told herself, just enjoy the moment.
When she went downstairs, she found that Chase had made himself useful. He’d moved the kitchen table into the dining room and found candles. He’d opened a bottle of wine and set it out amid the takeout cartons.
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a little of everything,” he said, appearing in the soft candlelight. Music was playing, probably Coldplay, and even without a rug or curtains or a fresh paint job, all of a sudden, it felt right, Phoebe thought; it felt like home. Her breath hitched and her heart lurched. Home. It was what she had been trying to find for a long time.
Chase held out the chair for her and she glided into it. “We have moo shu, lo mein, chicken, and broccoli…”
Phoebe went for the moo shu, while Chase seemed to be happy with a lot of everything. It took a while before he brought up the attic.
“I thought you’d be busy arranging furniture.”
“So did I. Lynn wanted to poke around Savannah’s things and so we did.”
“Did you find anything interesting?” Chase asked.
Phoebe shrugged. “Nothing too out of the ordinary. Just those old photo albums.”
“Savannah’s?”
“And some from my parents, from before I was born. I didn’t really know where they went. Haven’t thought about them in a long time. The pictures, I mean. It was weird seeing them.”
“Why?” Chase asked.
Phoebe thought for a moment before she answered. “They were so happy. And in love. With each other. I remember it and seeing the pictures brought it all back to me.”
“I’m sorry,” Chase said, but it was more a question.
“Don’t be. It made me happy. Sad too, but happy. Happy that they had that. It was so different from what Savannah and Leland had.”
Chase’s chopsticks paused midway between his plate and his mouth. “What do you mean?”
“My parents had a steady type of love. I don’t remember them ever really arguing. Their relationship was even, steady. But then I think about Savannah and Leland.”
“What about them?” Chase’s eyes were dark in the candlelight, intently looking at her. Phoebe didn’t know why she pressed on, but she had to.
“Their love was intense. Leland gave up a lot to be with her. Savannah even gave up her career for a while. It burned so hot, their love, it consumed them. He was jealous of her acting, but she couldn’t not do it. In the end, they loved each other still, but they were at each other’s throats. At least that’s what all the stories said. It was like they were so on fire for each other, it burned them out.”
It hung in the air between them. Chase looked at her for a long time, before he took her hand and gently pulled her towards him, up from the table, into his arms. She looked at him for a long time, staring at his face, and finally he stood up and she did too. She led him up the stairs and into her bedroom.
Chapter 34
Chase stayed the night. He had offered to go back to his apartment, but Phoebe had simply thrown him a look and pulled him towards her. She didn’t want him to go, liking the warmth and strength of him. He didn’t seem to mind, wrapping himself around her.
It was the weekend and they stayed together the whole time. He helped her move things from the shed into the house and watched as she rearranged. They went shopping for groceries, making themselves pasta. He lamented the lack of a TV, but she made it worth his while.
Monday morning came around and Chase had to go back to work. She sent him away with a bang and the house felt strangely empty without him, but she was ready to start getting to work. She had a contract to fulfill after all. There were also some phone calls and emails from Dean asking her when she was coming back. There were emails from her workshop asking if they should purchase more materials to keep up with the new orders. Her landlord was asking if she wanted out of her lease since he had another interested party.
While she had spent the last couple of weeks in a sexual fog precipitated by Chase, life was going on around her. Decisions needed to be made, decisions that had nothing to do with Chase Sanders and more about how she wanted to live her life. Did she want to run her business from Los Angeles? Her whole life had been there. She had never meant to make her stop in Queensbay permanent, had she? There was nothing to say that she and Chase couldn’t keep their relationship going, for a
while at least, cross-country. And besides, as Chase said, they were just riding this thing out, seeing where it took them.
So what to do? Phoebe sat in the room at the back of the house, her own little studio. In Los Angeles, she’d never had this much space and it was glorious to be able to walk, to pace, to think as she worked. She had seen pictures of it in the photo album. It had been fitted out like a country gentleman’s study, with leather-bound books and dark wood. Now it was white, with gleaming floors and a row of windows that looked out over the backyard and the harbor. Phoebe had come to love this room and her ability to watch the light as it moved over the water.
Her new desk had come, and she and Chase had assembled it, laughing as they tried to figure out the instructions. It was huge, with plenty of room to spread out, and she sat at it now, letting her mind wander, just drawing. When she was done, she looked at what she had created: a pattern of concentric rings in bright pop-art colors. She smiled and pulled her laptop towards her. Ivy Lane was doing well, the mention of her restoring the house driving a lot of traffic to the site.
Things were starting to take off for her and it was time to get really serious. Perhaps, it was time to give Caitlyn Randall a call. She was, by all accounts, a financial advisor and a whiz with money.
The days passed. Both she and Chase were busy with work, including a quick business trip down to Florida for Chase. He was gone only a few days, but when he arrived, he had sauntered in, taking her to bed almost immediately. Then, he was gone until the weekend. The weather was beautiful and they took another sail, threw steaks on the grill, and shared a bottle of wine with Lynn and her parents.
Weeks went by and she and Chase slipped into a pattern. He would stay with her all weekend and then head down to work. They spent most of their time together at Ivy House, but she went to his apartment once, above the Osprey Arms.
“Why do you live here?” she asked. Room service had delivered some fried calamari, and they were eating it on the small balcony attached to his suite.
“I like to keep an eye on things,” he said, dropping his eyes as he squeezed lemon on his plate.
“Eye on what? Surely, you get to see enough boats during the day from your office. You have a water view there.”
He said nothing and slowly she put it together. “You own this. The marina, the hotel?”
“Yes. I own it. I have a manager, but it’s a part of my holdings.”
“So you’re building up quite the little empire,” she said. It made sense how the bartender had called him “boss” and the way her hotel bill had been suspiciously low.
“Sort of. I’m not bad at organizing things, figuring out how to give customers what they want, whether it’s a new piece of foul-weather gear or a great place to bring their families for a summer cruise or to a hotel with a great view.”
“Are you partners with Noah?”
Chase shook his head. “On some of the things. I was one of his first investors when he started his company. Then, over the years, I leveraged that to invest in some other things. Sometimes Noah joins in, sometimes my brother does, sometimes I do it alone. My brother, Jackson, he’s working in New York now, but he comes out on weekends in the summer to sail and hang out. Hopefully you’ll meet him?”
The question hung in the air. They hadn’t talked much about the future and Phoebe didn’t know if she wanted to.
“That would be nice,” she said absently. She took a sip of wine as someone blew a foghorn, a signal for the launch to come pick them up.
“Do you always treat your investments like this?”
“Like what?” he asked.
“Wine and dine them?”
“Sometimes, I go out for business dinners,” he said carefully, his fork hovering in midair. “I take a personal interest in all of my affairs.”
“Affairs?” Phoebe didn’t know why she was pushing. Everything was going well. She had been designing like mad, and Chase’s own house design team was a dream to work with. He’d even sent Tory over to redo her website and now the orders were coming in, several a day. But her work for the collection was almost done. In another week or so, there would be no real reason to stay in Queensbay.
“I meant business affairs. In the most traditional sense,” he said, humor lighting up his eyes.
She had begun to think that she could build her business from anywhere. She’d been ducking Dean’s calls, knowing that if she told him what she was thinking, he would try anything to convince her to come back to Los Angeles. He’d been calling and texting almost daily since she had mentioned the deal with Chase.
She was starting to build a life on her own terms, but she wanted to be more than an investment to Chase, something he would hand off to be managed when she had fulfilled her end of the deal. So far, he’d given no indication that it was anything but smooth sailing, but then again, he hadn’t asked lately if she were planning on staying or going.
“You’re not jealous I discovered that new sweater designer in England, are you? I like her stuff, but I told you, she’s an old salt dog, almost fifty, with a Scotsman for a husband. I feel like he’s going to run me through with his bagpipes if I even so much as look at his wife.”
Phoebe laughed. When Chase had told her that he was going to England for a few days, she had wondered what she would do if all his designers were given the same treatment as her. They had never talked about the status of their relationship as easily as they had slipped into it. She realized that she had just assumed Chase was a one-woman-at-a-time type of guy, but she had no proof.
“Hey, that’s not jealousy I see, is it? Imagine, the fair-haired California babe being worried about some lady who knits sweaters in the dark and cold.”
“Well, when you put it that way, but surely there must be others. You seem to have quite a stable of talent you’re developing.”
Chase shrugged, but his eyes were serious. “That’s part of what makes North Coast Outfitters successful. Luxury and high-quality goods you can’t get everywhere. It takes time and attention to do that.”
“I know,” Phoebe said. She felt restless. They were supposed to be meeting up with Noah and Caitlyn to listen to some live music at Augie’s—Lynn, too, if she got done with her rounds—but there was something that was making her edgy.
“You don’t think I’m stepping out on you, do you?” Chase asked, his voice low.
“No. I don’t know.” She was standing by the railing now, looking over at the bustle of the harbor below. The sun was starting to set and boats were streaming in to get settled for the night, couples were walking about arm in arm and kids raced up and down, playing or enjoying ice cream. It was a happy scene, full of life and Phoebe glanced up. Ivy House was just visible, its tall tower poking up among the trees that were now fully covered in their summer coats. Even from here, she could see that the house needed painting, one of those big-ticket items she had decided to put off. Still, it was there, a landmark, looking down over charming Queensbay, watching the town, protecting it.
Did she want to be part of this life? She could work from anywhere, she knew that, whether it was Queensbay or Los Angeles or some other place she’d never been to. But would she want to stay in Queensbay, in Ivy House, if Chase wasn’t part of her life? She looked over at him. He was sitting there, his big frame at ease in the comfortable chair.
“Phoebe, I haven’t been with anyone else since I met you…since before I met you and, more importantly, I haven’t thought about anyone else. I know my PR department has tried to paint a different picture of me, 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.