As for her attraction to him, well, it was just something she would have to fight. She had conquered it before. She could conquer it again.
“Well,” Chase said awkwardly, confirming by his actions that he was indeed as short of cash as she suspected, “if you’re sure it’s no trouble and the guest house is available—”
“It is,” Joey cut in gregariously before Hope could verify the same.
“Well, fine, then. I’ll only be here a day or so, anyway,” Chase continued.
Hope tried very hard not to show her relief at that bit of news. One day of having him around she could handle, but not any more than that.
Aware her thoughts were straying into forbidden territory, she forced her mind back to the reason for his quick departure. “Still doing research in Brazil?” she asked, hoping fervently he hadn’t been able to read her thoughts.
“Costa Rica now. I’m not sure where I’ll be next.”
Joey touched Hope’s sleeve, subtly commanding her attention.
“Mom, is it okay if I go in now? I’m hungry.”
“Sure, honey. Just have Carmelita give you a snack. But don’t eat too much. Dinner’s going to be soon.” She looked at Chase, forcing herself to offer, even as she hoped he would refuse, “Will you be dining with us or do you have other plans?”
“No plans,” Chase said candidly, watching as Joey disappeared into the house. He turned back to Hope, his gaze intent and all encompassing, his purpose for being there as much a mystery as ever. He frowned and released a long, uneven breath, then seemed to have forced himself to speak. “Actually, Hope, a family dinner would be just the thing.”
For what? Hope wondered in complete unmitigated shock.
I’M HANDLING THIS all wrong, Chase thought, as he stood under the shower in the guest house, the hot clean water streaming over his skin. “Pretending that I feel like family when I don’t. Pretending I’m here for no reason in particular.” Yet try as he might, he had been unable to cut to the heart of the matter and ask her just what the hell was going on with the store. Especially with Joey standing there.
For one thing, he knew the economy in Texas was bad. The oil bust in the late eighties had affected everything and everyone. Businesses had gone under by the handful. People who had been millionaires all their lives had lost everything. Entire shopping centers had closed, and real-estate foreclosures occurred by the hundreds. But Barrister’s had not only survived, it had continued to do well, at least while his father was alive. Now, a year later, it was a different story. Now Hope was at the helm. Worse, she was as beautiful as ever and that wouldn’t make things easy.
He couldn’t stand by and let the business his father had built go down the drain, but he couldn’t just walk in and take the business away from Hope either. Not when he knew his father had wanted her to have it. Chase had no real interest in it, save keeping it afloat, but it was Hope’s life.
He had to find a way to turn things around, to ensure the livelihood for all of them continued. And he had to do it in a way that would’ve been okay with his father, which meant not getting rid of Hope. Realizing that, he swore roundly and grabbed for a towel. If this wasn’t an impossible task, he didn’t know what was.
“SO YOU GET TO SPEND weeks and weeks in the jungles, looking for cures for stuff like cancer and arthritis? And you don’t have to take a bath except when you want to and you get to sleep in a tent and cook on a camp fire every single night?” Joey asked Chase incredulously.
Chase chuckled. “That about sums it up, yeah, but it’s not nearly as glamorous as it sounds.”
The dry note in her stepson’s voice completely escaped her son, who was thrilled by Chase’s adventures. “Wow,” Joey continued, shaking his head admiringly. “I wish my mom would let me do stuff like that, but right now she won’t even let me go camping in New Mexico.”
Chase slanted Hope a measuring look. “You don’t approve of the great outdoors?”
It wasn’t that, although Chase was right to assume she wouldn’t want her son to ever have the kind of nomadic, no-ties life Chase reveled in. As far as she knew, Chase had never lacked in female companions, but he had never been serious about any woman except Lucy, and their brief engagement had ended almost as quickly and mysteriously as it had begun, years before. “Joey has asthma. He’s allergic to many of the tree and plant pollens. That’s why he can’t go camping.” A doctor himself, Chase should understand the risks.
Joey scowled. “If Dad were still here, he’d let me go.”
Unfortunately, Hope knew that was true. Edmond had been optimistic to a fault, in that regard. And because of that they’d had to continually deal with the consequences. “Joey—”
His pleasure in the meal with his half brother diminished, Joey said abruptly, “May I be excused, please?”
Realizing this was no time to get into a prolonged argument, Hope nodded her permission. “Be sure you finish your homework before you watch any television.”
“I will.” Joey put his napkin down next to his plate, then shoulders hunched in silent misery, marched off.
Embarrassed, Hope turned back to Chase. Suddenly the air between them was charged with electricity and none of it had to do with the emotional departure of her son. “Would you care for more coffee or dessert?” She was aware her voice and manners were stiff and mannequinlike, but was unable to do anything about it. She feared if she relaxed, even a tad, Chase would see through her flimsy defenses and realize how uneasy and self-conscious she felt, being there alone with him, especially now that she was single again.
He had eaten everything Carmelita put before him, as if he’d been starved for months. And she supposed where he had been, there had been a lack of elegant cuisine.
“I’ll pass on the seconds. Thanks. I do need to speak to you—privately.”
She had been expecting this. “Very well,” she said. She led the way to the heavy paneled library. Once inside, she shut the double oak doors firmly behind them and Chase got straight to the point.
“I’m concerned about Barrister’s.”
Hope felt her spine stiffen. As disinterested as Chase had always been in the store, she hadn’t expected this. Unable to keep the defensive note out of her voice, she retorted, “So am I.”
Chase smoothed his blond hair, then let his palm rest idly on the back of his neck.
Just shampooed, the sun-streaked strands gleamed like gold in the soft inside light, appearing very touchable and distracting in their sexy disarray. And he smelled just as fresh and male.
“Look, Hope,” he began rather gruffly, as he passed her in a wake of rich, woodsy after-shave, “I doubt I can say this without offending you—”
From the reluctant look on his face, she doubted it too. “Just get on with it,” she advised tensely, expecting the worst.
He dropped his hand and leaned against the marble fireplace. “All right.” More comfortable now, he met her gaze and continued flatly, “Popular opinion is you’re mismanaging Barrister’s.”
