He glanced at her. “I think you’d like it.”
“There’s so much I want to see.” She expected him to get into Olivia’s car but didn’t see it parked on the street. Instead he stayed with her as she turned onto Thistle Lane. “I have a travel savings account and I’m accumulating travel points on my credit card. Every little bit helps. What about you? Do you like to travel?”
“When I have time. I haven’t traveled for pleasure as much as you might think. Hiking last week with Dylan and his friends was enjoyable but a hotel room on business isn’t the same as walking with you on a quiet summer evening.”
She felt a rush of heat and was grateful for the darkness. She could feel Noah’s eyes on her as they walked down the lane, close to each other but not quite touching.
“You’re happy here, Phoebe.”
“I’m happy with what I have. My life might be predictable compared to some people’s lives, but that’s okay. It’s good.” She looked up at the sky, a few stars glittering against the darkening sky. “It’s warm out tonight but I can feel summer’s winding down. Can’t you?”
He laughed. “Don’t tell me it’s going to snow.”
“I suppose your idea of snow is a ski slope?”
“More like watching other people ski while I sit by the fire with a good Scotch.”
“What about your winery? Do you get up there often?”
He shrugged. “As often as I can. The people who run it are good friends, and my folks live up there now. They love it.”
Phoebe didn’t tell him she’d read about his parents. “Why did you buy a winery?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time. It’s worked out okay.”
“But it’s not what’s next for you,” Phoebe said.
He shook his head. “No.”
“I’d love to see that part of the country.”
“I’d love to show you.”
Phoebe felt a rush of panic that she was getting in too deep with him. Falling in love with him. Not the billionaire, she thought. The man.
But he was a billionaire.
They came to her small house, a light on above the front door. “I think my mystery seamstress lived here,” she said. “We found a box of books and things that could have belonged to her.”
Noah turned to her, his face more angular in the dark shadows. “Would you mind if I took a look?”
Her mouth went dry. His tone, his eyes, the way he stood. All she could think about was their kiss in the library attic. She had no idea what he was thinking about, except he did seem genuinely interested in the box, or was doing a good job faking it.
“It’s in the kitchen,” she said finally. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
She led him onto the porch and through the front door, switching on lights as she showed him back to the kitchen. She knew he was taking in her simple furnishings. Since it was just her living there, she didn’t have to worry about melding her taste with anyone else’s.
She offered him wine but he shook his head. “But don’t let me stop you.”
It would stop her. Definitely. “I don’t like to drink alone,” she said, then added, “Not that I drink that much.”
He was already lifting up a copy of Assignment in Brittany. “Have you ever read Helen MacInnes?” he asked.
“Not yet, no, but I was looking at that book last night and would love to read it.” Phoebe leaned against the counter, watching him, really wishing she’d had wine. “Helen MacInnes, Mary Stewart, Victoria Holt, Daphne du Maurier—they’re all popular with the women at Rivendell. Younger women are reading them now, too. I started The Moonspinners last night.”
“My mother’s a Mary Stewart fan,” Noah said.
Phoebe walked over to the table and ran her fingers along the softened spine of Rebecca. “I love a happy ending.”
He raised his eyes to her. “Do you believe a happy ending is in store for you?”
She shrugged. “I’m not a character in a novel.”
He set the Helen MacInnes novel back in the box and picked up This Rough Magic, another by Mary Stewart. “Do you think in real life we only get one chance at a happy ending, and if it doesn’t happen, that’s it? We’ve lost our chance for a happy ending?”
Phoebe stood back from the copy of Rebecca, her eyes narrowed on him. “Someone told you about Richard.”
If Noah felt guilty at all, he didn’t show it. “Richard’s the name of the guy who moved to Orlando without you?”
Orlando. Noah even knew that much. Phoebe faked a laugh. “You can see I wasn’t kidding when I told you I have no secrets. Richard dumped me two days after my father’s funeral. I’d thought…” She took a breath. “Well, I thought he wouldn’t do that. Who told you? Not my sisters.” She thought a moment. “Brandon Sloan. Male solidarity at work.”
Noah smiled. “Brandon is outnumbered by O’Dunn women.”