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Chase’s smile returned. “Right.”
He pushed open the door and carried her suitcases inside. Phoebe followed. The room was large and bright, done in various shades of lavender. A pansy-print wallpaper decorated the walls from the white chair rail up, with lavender paint on the bottom half. Two beds sat on either side of a big window covered with crisp white curtains. There was a dresser topped with a TV against one wall, two doors on another and a second window on a third.
“There’s a bathroom in there,” Chase said, setting her luggage on one of the beds. “The other door is the closet.”
“It’s great.”
“Want to see my room?”
Chase might be seventeen, but at that moment, he looked about ten. She nodded.
“I’d love to.”
“Sweet.”
He led her back down the hall to a room just off the stairs. Phoebe stepped into a messy room with a full-size bed, a massive computer and more electronic equipment than she’d ever seen outside of a Best Buy. Dials glowed, lights flashed, boxes beeped. Circuit boards lay scattered like so many discarded toys.
Chase sank into the only chair in the room and began typing on the keyboard.
“A couple of my friends and I are working on some really great special effects on the computer. You know, for websites. We’re also working on a robot, but it’s not going that great. I think the main problem is in the programming, but it’s hard to tell because everything else is screwed up, too.”
He finished typing and pushed back from the desk. Phoebe stepped forward and saw a three-dimensional swirling object on the screen. Chase handed her a pair of 3-D glasses. When she slipped them on and stared at the screen, the spiraling blob seemed to leap out at her.
“I like it,” she said, handing the glasses back.
He grinned and rose. “I have a baseball I caught when Zane took me to San Francisco a couple of years ago. It was a fly ball, bottom of the third. Dodgers against the Giants.”
He picked up the ball from a shelf above his bed and held it out for her inspection.
“Wow.”
“There’s also the—”
“I doubt Phoebe wants to see your entire collection of treasures right now.”
At the sound of Zane’s voice, they both jumped and turned toward the door. Phoebe had a bad feeling that she looked guilty...mostly because she felt that way. Which was crazy. She hadn’t done anything wrong.
Zane stood leaning against the doorway, his arms folded over his chest. He looked strong and unmovable. Maya’s claims about Chase’s broken spirit didn’t hold water when compared with the teenager’s outgoing personality, but Phoebe couldn’t help wondering what Zane was thinking as he studied his brother.
“Is your room all right?” Zane asked her.
She nodded. “Everything is great.”
“Maya wants me to take you to dinner in town.” He glanced at his watch.
Feel the love, she thought, not sure if she should call him on his lack of graciousness. “You don’t have to.”
“It’s fine.”
“Can we go to Margaritaville?” Chase asked. “I could go for nachos.”
“What you could go for even more is staying home and finishing cleaning all the guest rooms. There’s a pizza in the freezer. Elaine Mitchell’s going to pick up the greenhorns and Maya on Friday and bring them out to the ranch in her tourist van. You’ve got a lot of work to do before they get here.”
“But—”
Zane cut him off with a look, then turned back to Phoebe. “Meet me downstairs in an hour.”
Phoebe knew a dismissal when she heard one. Due to the fact that she was an uninvited stranger who had shown up with little warning, she didn’t feel that she was in a position to complain.
She gave Chase a quick smile, then moved toward the door. Zane stepped out of the way to let her pass. As she walked by him, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and swayed in salutation.
* * *
WHEN PHOEBE LEFT her room an hour later, she could hear Chase singing in a bedroom down the hall. She smiled. He was such a cheerful kid, a pure-hearted spirit. Forced to stay home and do chores, he’d decided he might as well make them fun.
She was a little nervous about spending the evening alone with his big brother, though. What would they talk about?
Zane was waiting for her at the base of the stairs. She stopped on the last step so that when he turned toward her, they were eye to eye.
“I’m sorry I didn’t bring anything dressier,” she said. She’d changed into white jeans and a pale, dusty purple top with an embellished scoop neckline.
His gaze traveled to her feet and back to her face. She thought maybe she read masculine appreciation in his raised brows.
“You’re fine,” he said.
So much for any appreciation. On his part, at least. “Give me a moment while I bask in the glory,” she murmured and stepped past him to the front porch and then down toward his truck.
Zane got there ahead of her. A neat trick explained by his much longer stride. He towered over her. He’d changed clothes, too, into dark blue jeans and a fitted white T-shirt that showcased his hard-earned muscles. His dark hair was still damp. An image flashed through her mind of him in the shower, water running over his broad shoulders.
He opened the door for her, then helped her into the truck. The masculine scent of his soap and shampoo wafted toward her as he climbed in beside her, making her limbs melt into the leather seat.
This felt like a date. It wasn’t, but still. Phoebe sighed. Maya had promised her a distraction, and Zane was certainly that. Too bad he didn’t seem to like her one bit.
* * *
PHOEBE WAS A little relieved when Zane didn’t park outside Margaritaville. After Chase had mentioned wanting nachos, it would seem mean to eat there. Instead she and Zane walked into a place called The Fox and Hound.
The restaurant had lots of dark wood and booths. There were English hunting prints on the wall. Campy, Phoebe thought happily, following the hostess to a booth and sliding in.
She told herself the quivering sensation she felt inside was because she was hungry and had nothing to do with the man sitting across from her. Then she felt bad for lying, if only to herself.
She took the offered menu but didn’t open it. When they were alone, she glanced at Zane.
“Do you not like me or is this just your style?”
Zane’s gaze was steady. Almost laser-like. She wanted to squirm but didn’t. Nor did she look away.
“I like you fine,” he said at last.
The low gravelly quality of his voice was so nice, she thought, before the actual words sank in. “Really?”
He sighed. “Why are you surprised?”
“You aren’t exactly welcoming. I know you’re doing all this to teach Chase a lesson, so it’s not like you asked me to visit, but you didn’t have to take me out to dinner just because Maya asked you to.”
“You didn’t have to say yes.”
“I was hungry.”
“So was I.”
* * *
ZANE KNEW THAT he and Phoebe were no longer talking about the same thing. At least not when it came to hunger. She would be thinking fish and chips, and he was thinking more along the lines of naked.
He wanted to tell himself it was simply because he was a man and she was a woman, but he knew it was more than that. As he’d admitted, he liked her. She was cute and funny. When she looked at him with her big brown eyes, he wanted to grab Tango and ride his horse into the sunset to save something for her. Talk about idiotic. He barely knew her.
Yet there was something about Phoebe Kitzke. An innocence, maybe. No, that wasn’t right. It was how she seemed trusting. More fool her. Or maybe him.
Not that it mattered. Wanting wasn’t having. She was here as Maya’s friend. Possibly to keep watch over him so he didn’t hurt Chase. Because Maya wouldn’t trust him.
“You’re looking fierce,” Phoebe said.
Her hair was long and loose. Sexy. He deliberately steered his brain away from that line of thinking.
“My sister brings out the fierce in me.”
“Because of how she’s always thinking you’re too hard on Chase?”
“Maya talks too much.”
“She says less than you think,” Phoebe told him. “It’s more what she doesn’t say. She worries about Chase.”
“Everybody does.”
Phoebe wrinkled her nose. “She worries about you, too.”
He raised a brow. “I doubt that.”
Phoebe raised her shoulders, then let them drop back into place. “Okay, maybe she doesn’t say that exactly, but I know she does. We’re friends.”
“Being friends gives you insight?”
“Of course. It’s not like being family, but it’s close.”
“Family can be a pain in the ass.”
“Maybe,” she said, “but it has to be better than being alone.”
Maybe if he didn’t feel so responsible for Chase, he would be able to enjoy his brother more. As it was, he walked that precarious line between brother and father figure. He spent half the time annoyed with some of the boy’s boneheaded decisions and the other half worried the kid was going to screw up his own life.
“An optimist.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s important to be realistic.”
She leaned toward him. “It’s important to have dreams. To see the possibilities.”
He’d believed that once, he reminded himself. Before he’d destroyed what mattered most to his father. Before he’d understood that some things were unforgivable. No matter how much a kid tried to make them right.
Their server came by to take their drink order. Phoebe asked for a glass of red wine while Zane got a beer. When they were alone again, Phoebe leaned toward him.
“Tell me about Fool’s Gold.”
“What do you want to know?”
He was expecting a question about the tourists, or the history. Instead she surprised him by asking, “What do you like best about living here?”
“It’s what I know.”
She nodded slowly. “Because you’ve lived here all your life. I get that. You have a connection with the town and the rhythm of the seasons. You probably have friends from when you were really small.”
He stared at her. “You don’t need me around for this conversation, do you?”
She laughed. “Sorry. I can get carried away.”
“That’s okay.”
“So do you have friends from when you were little?”
“Sure.”
She glanced out the window. “I like the window boxes with flowers.”
“You should see this place at Christmas.”
Her eyes brightened. “All decorated?”
“Every inch.”
“That’s so nice.” She jumped a little in her seat. “Oh, wow. Do you get snow? Are we high enough for snow?”
“There’s nearly always a white Christmas.”
He had no idea why he was trying to sell her on the town. While he liked it well enough, he wasn’t looking to join the tourist commission or whatever it was called. What did he care if Phoebe was impressed by Fool’s Gold or not? Yet he found himself wanting her to think it was special.
Which made him a fool, and for the life of him, he couldn’t say why he was bothering.
