“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.