The Ivy House

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. “Not many. It’s a special order, but I know a guy in the business.”

“I’m sure you do.” Phoebe took a sip of her coffee, still looking at the helmet. She wasn’t sure what to do with it. Just how much demolition did Chase think the house needed?”

“You don’t think I’m going to need it, do you?” she asked, trying to see if he had an opinion.

“You never know,” Chase answered, still grinning.

“But…” Phoebe felt her mouth go dry. She thought about some new paint and curtains, but not any actual demolition.

Chase took a step closer to her and held out his hand. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, but then he reached out for her coffee cup. Mesmerized, she let him take it from her and watched as he took a sip, her eyes locked on his, his on hers. Slowly, he handed the cup back to her.

“Thanks. I needed that. Look, I happen to have spent a few summers working construction. Thought maybe I could help you do a walk-through, get a sense of what needs to be done now, what can wait.”

Phoebe felt herself swallowing hard, trying to forget the way his hand, warmed from the coffee cup, had burned against her skin and made her stomach do a flip.

“But we’re not going to be breaking anything, are we?” Phoebe asked, surprised to find her voice was low, throaty.

“Not unless you want to.”

Phoebe nodded. There was no reason for him to be holding her hand, but it had felt good. She decided not to dwell on it.

They wound up in the room she had decided would be the master bedroom. The floors were hardwood and she knew that they could be beautiful again.

“I know a guy who does floors. I asked him to swing by later, to take a look around, give you an estimate. They should be done all at once, upstairs, downstairs. That way, you can move in. You can always do your painting later.”

Phoebe nodded. “It would be good if I could at least get a bed in here by the end of the week.” Phoebe felt it, the slow burn of a flush. Somehow saying the word “bed” in front of Chase made her feel self-conscious. He had dropped her hand by this time, but was still standing close to her, and she couldn’t get over the feeling of being on edge, like she had drunk five espressos in a row and the caffeine was buzzing through her in overdrive.

“Really? I didn’t know you were in such a hurry to get set up. Is someone waiting for it?”

It took her a moment to figure out what Chase meant.

“I…” she stuttered, cursing her fair skin, feeling the blush crawl up her cheeks and to the roots of her hair.

“So you’re just eager to get moved in?” he said, his eyes laughing at her.

“I’d rather not spend that much more time in the hotel. The Osprey Arms is fine, but I hadn’t figured on making it a permanent home.”

“I like that one.” He had come up behind her, and pointed to the middle shade of blue on the paint chip Phoebe was holding. “I’m sure I could arrange a deal for you, since you’re practically living there.”

“Don’t tell me… You know the manager.” Phoebe said, the memory of the way he had seemed so comfortable at the Osprey Arms coming back to her.

Chase shrugged. “Maybe I do.”

“Well, thank you, but I already did.” The shade Chase liked was deeper than she would have gone for, but it was bold too. “I’m a grown woman; I can take care myself. I happen to have plenty of experience negotiating for myself.”

“I am sure you can come down hard on them when you want.” She could feel him, his bulk and heat behind, and the way his breath whispered in her ear and tickled her hair, which was up in a ponytail. She fought to control the shiver that ran down her spine and the little delicious flame of heat that flicked below her stomach, between her legs. Desperately wanting to put some distance between herself and Chase, she almost took a step away, but she couldn’t; she was trapped there, loving the feeling of him close to her.

“I manage to get what I want most of the time,” she managed to say in a husky voice.

“I can imagine.” She turned slightly to face him so that her eyes were almost level with his chin. One of his arms was still around her and she could smell him, a mix of soap and spicy aftershave, melding together in a heady combination that made her knees feel just slightly wobbly.

His hand grasped her wrist and pulled her closer to him. She met his eyes, could see that they were dark, liquid, as if consumed by something. His nostrils flared and he leaned in, smelling her hair.

“You smell amazing,” he said, his voice a hoarse, ragged whisper. She felt any last inhibitions melt away, and she wasn’t quite sure who moved first so that they were facing each other and she was encircled in the strong span of his arms.

It seemed as if time stood still, and Phoebe was aware of everything, from the fresh breath of air that wafted in from the window that was propped open to the sound of a bird singing and the whisper of the new green leaves in the trees. And then she heard the sound of her own heart beating and could hear Chase’s ragged breath as his gaze roamed over her, taking her in, his blue eyes dark.

“What was that?” They sprang apart, and Phoebe’s eyes traveled up to the ceiling. Dust trickled down and the hanging light fixture swung slightly. Her heart was thumping, and she had clutched her hands to her chest, no longer in the strong confines of Chase’s arms.

It came again, another crash and then a scurrying sound. Chase’s head was cocked up and he watched the ceiling. A slow smile came over his face.

“Squirrels, a raccoon maybe, in the attic.”

“Yuck.” Phoebe wasn’t crazy about animals. Sure, dogs were fine and cats OK, but anything else…especially in her house, was just too off-putting to think about. Somehow, she hadn’t thought about that aspect of living in the country when she’d been dreaming of Ivy House.

“Where are the stairs?” Chase asked. He was still looking up, completely oblivious to her, and it was with supreme disappointment that she realized he was not going to kiss her after all.

“Stairs?”

“To the attic.” There was a touch of impatience in his voice. “They could be getting away.”

“You’re going to go up there?”

“Sure. How else are we going to get rid of them?” he said.

Call an exterminator, Phoebe thought, but didn’t voice it. “What about rabies?” she said instead.

“I’m not going to catch them. I just need to find out where they’re coming in from. And then we can set traps and get them out.”

“Kill them?” All of a sudden, Phoebe didn’t relish the thought of killing innocent animals. After all, in their minds, they had been there first.

“No, of course not. We’ll set special no-kill traps, catch them and then release them. But we need to find out how they’re getting in so they don’t get right back in. So, the stairs?” he said again, his impatience marked with a smile.

Phoebe thought for a moment. “In the hallway.”

She led the way out of the bedroom towards the door that led to a closet. It was big for one, an odd-shaped room above the stairs, and it had a round window in it. “Up there.”

There was a trap door in the ceiling, with a rope hanging from it.

“You might want to stand back,” Chase said.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t call someone?” Phoebe asked. Chase had pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and was already pulling on the rope. It was stuck and he handed the flashlight to Phoebe as he put both hands on the rope, tugging hard.

With a squeak and a groan, the door came free and a cloud of dust fell down. Chase was quick, and he sidestepped the dust storm easily, pushing Phoebe out of the way so she was spared the worst of it. Still, grime swirled in the air, and she could feel it settling in her hair.

There was a ladder folded up against the underside of the door and Chase reached up and swung it down. It gave another protesting squeak and then there was silence. In agreement, the two of them paused and listened. The rustling had stopped, Phoebe noted with relief.

Chase put his foot on the bottom rung, tested his weight, turned, took the flashlight from Phoebe, and shot her a wink.

“If I’m not back in five, call in the cavalry.”

Phoebe was about to protest, but then she remembered it was just an attic. She watched his amazingly cute backside disappear into the gloom above. There was a pause, silence and she half-expected to hear a scream; she could feel the tension erupting in her.

“Hey, Phoebe, you’re going to want to see this.”