“It’s not the dress. It’s you.”
She worked not to deflect his compliment again. Once upon a time she’d known how to say thank you. “You look nice, too,” she said, taking in his dark jeans and the white button-down shirt that he’d rolled up a couple of times at the sleeves.
“I thought we’d walk over to Marcus’s house.” He looked down at her shoes. “Will that work?”
“Are you kidding? I used to practically live in heels.”
He gave her a questioning look and she silently cursed herself. Fortunately, though, he didn’t push her on her statement or as her any questions about her past.
But she knew that if she stayed much longer, he would ask.
* * *
Chloe was surprisingly comfortable at the small party at Marcus’s house. He was the consummate host, making sure everyone’s glasses were full and that the underaged models stuck to juice and sparkling water.
After she’d had her fill of the incredible spread and Jeremy had officially exhausted her gossip quota for one lifetime, Chase reappeared from the shadows.
“Are you having fun?”
“I am.”
It should have been a relief when he’d moved away from her not long after arriving at the party, especially after their silent walk from the guest house. A walk in which it had been clear that he wasn’t asking her any questions she wasn’t yet comfortable with answering.
But she’d missed being with him. Her gaze had strayed to him from across the room one too many times. And he’d almost always caught her looking.
“Can I get you anything else to eat or drink?”
She shook her head, putting her hand over her stomach. “I’m stuffed, thanks.” Feeling a little loose from the wine, she said, “There is something I’d love, though. I’ve been dying to see a family photo.”
“I can already tell you I’m the best-looking Sullivan.”
She laughed out loud. Chase was one of the least egotistical men she’d ever met. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
He held out a hand and she took it without remembering that it wasn’t a good idea to touch him. But oh, it felt so nice to hold his hand—big and strong and warm—if only for a few short moments.
It occurred to her that she might be just a teensy bit drunk as they walked into a room that she assumed was Marcus’s study. Chase picked up a framed eight-by-ten photo from the bookshelf and handed it to her.
Chloe worked to keep the awe from her expression at what an incredible sight they all made together. Still, she couldn’t take her eyes off Chase-even in a picture he commanded her attention.
He was standing next to his mother, nearly a foot taller, with his arm around her as she leaned her head on his shoulder. She looked happy and content, surrounded by her children.
Longing to be part of a family this close hit Chloe so hard, she almost dropped the glossy photo.
And then, she saw something that had her mouth falling open.
“Oh my God. You’re Smith Sullivan’s brother?”
* * *
Jealousy wasn’t something that Chase knew a lot about. So the sudden hard hit of it, right in the pit of his gut, stung pretty damn bad.
“I am.” He waited for her to ask if she could meet Smith, or to start peppering him with questions about his movie-star brother.
Instead, she simply turned and stared at him for a long moment. “I guess I should have seen the resemblance.” And then she said, “Tell me about everyone else.”
Seriously? She didn’t want to know more about Smith?
This time he was the one giving her a funny look and she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, her free hand automatically coming up to cover her cheek. “Is something wrong?”
He quickly shook his head. “No. Not a thing.”
He wanted to move her hand from her cheek, wanted to tell her she didn’t need to hide any part of herself from him. But he’d made himself a promise to let her lead their dance.
He wasn’t a saint. Not even close. But he knew keeping that promise was the only way she’d ever really trust him.
Chase knew how to persuade a woman with kisses, with the touch of his fingertips across her skin. But he didn’t want to be the only one wanting.
He wanted Chloe to want, too, just as badly as he did.
Enough that she had to act on that want.
Enough that she had to push past fear and trust him.
“Ryan is a year younger than me.” At her questioning sidelong glance, he added, “I’m thirty-two.” He turned back to the picture. “He plays pro baseball for the San Francisco Hawks.”
She murmured something about being impressed, but it was clear from her reaction that she wasn’t a baseball fan. He grinned, thinking about Chloe meeting Ryan and not fawning over him. His brother would be crushed.
“Gabe is my youngest brother. He’s a firefighter.”
“Wow, that’s a really dangerous job. Doesn’t your mother worry?”
“At this point, between the eight of us, I think she’s pretty much thrown in the towel on worrying.”
Chloe shook her head. “No,” she said softly, “she’s your mother. She still worries. About all of you. Because she loves you.”
Caught up in a perfectly clear vision of Chloe as a mother, sweet and loving, his voice felt raw as he agreed. “That’s why we’ve tried to give her a little peace, now and again, as we get older.”
“Who’s this?” She pointed at one of his sisters.
“Nice.” He corrected himself. “I mean Sophie.” He pointed to her twin. “That’s Lori. A.K.A. Naughty.”
She chuckled. “Why do I have a feeling they don’t much care for those nicknames?”
“They do. Even though they’re always telling me they don’t.”
Chloe shook her head and muttered, “I can’t imagine dealing with one big brother like you, let alone six.” She arched a brow at him. “You know exactly what’s best for them, don’t you?”
He grinned at her unrepentantly. “Of course I do.”
She snorted, looked at the picture again. “They are both very pretty. I sure hope they got some good ones in on you and the rest of your brothers for being know-it-alls.”
Chase winced in memory. “More than once, you’ll be glad to hear.”
She laughed again, and if there was a sweeter sound in the world, Chase hadn’t heard it yet.