Barefoot Bay: Silhouettes on the Sand (Kindle Worlds Novella) (10 page)

"Very different from the Ivory Tower. The main family estate up north could easily pass for an Ivy league college or medieval castle."

"That would definitely have looked out of place in coastal Florida."

"Which is why they chose this style. They thought it fit in better."

"I don't suppose Warren Buffett is their neighbor."

"No. He's a few miles away. The closest house belongs to an Arab sheikh."

Served her right for joking about money with an Ivory. The car came to a stop, and Chase hopped out. She was almost a little surprised a valet hadn't popped out of the shrubbery to open the door for her. "Looks like we're the first ones here."

"Why do you say that?"

C.J. waved her arm across the circular drive. "No cars."

"Maybe, but they could be garaged already."

"
Garaged
?"

"Down to the left is a ten-car garage."

Now that it had been pointed out, she did see another building camouflaged by a crop of trees.
Ten-car garage
.

"Mr. Chase." An older man in a suit came out the door, a younger man hurrying around him. "I hope your drive was pleasant."

"Very." Chase smiled. "This is Miss Lawson."

The man, who C.J. guessed had to be the proverbial butler, nodded at her. "Peter here will take care of your belongings. The Colonel and Mrs. Ivory are receiving family in the parlor."

"Thanks, Jeeves."

Chase grabbed hold of her hand and tugged her up the stairs.

"Jeeves? Butlers are really named Jeeves?"

"No. His name is … George, I think. But we've called him Jeeves ever since we were kids. I guess it never occurred to us to call him anything else once we grew up."

"And he doesn't mind?"

"I can't imagine why. We don't say it with any disrespect."

She didn't know what to say, but she had to wonder how George felt about it. Glancing over her shoulder a moment, she saw him giving instructions to the young man who now carried her overnight bag and Chase's garment bag. "Where is he going with our bags?"

Chase paused at the front door and looked past her. "Service entrance."

Before she could digest the idea of a service entrance, she found herself standing in the center hall of a house clearly much larger than it looked from the outside. Slowly she followed Chase across the main foyer and down a few steps into what she could only assume was the parlor. A wall of glass looked over an expansive lawn. Though
garden
may have been a more appropriate term. She could also see that, while the front entry was on this level, they were at least one story above the back gardens. If she'd thought the yacht was impressive, she had a lot to learn about the 1 percent of people who were truly filthy rich.

The Colonel pushed to his feet, and the few men in the room followed. First Chase kissed his grandmother, then shook his grandfather’s hand, and one by one made his way around the room, introducing C.J. to anyone she hadn't already met. Every few minutes another Ivory arrived, and different levels of cheers and greetings erupted. She could almost guess the family pecking order. She also didn't think there was a single introvert in the bunch. Aside from “How do you do?” and “It's a pleasure to meet you,” she hadn't been required to speak much. All the other relatives seemed perfectly happy to carry the conversation. By her count she'd met fourteen cousins, only one of which brought a guest—Emily—to dinner, and, considering that everyone seemed to know her by name, C.J. guessed by the laughter and teasing that Emily had been a part of this family for some while.

"Have you known Chase very long?" Emily asked C.J.

It took C.J. a moment to realize she was being spoken to. "Oh, no. Not terribly long."

Mimsy Ivory sidled up beside Emily. "It's always nice to see you at a family event, dear. The Colonel keeps expecting Devlin to smarten up and make you an official Ivory."

Emily smiled sweetly at the old woman, but it struck C.J. that there wasn't much longing in her gaze. Maybe Devlin was up to the same tricks as Chase. Only at it longer.

"But"—Mimsy turned slowly—"I would love to know more about you and my grandson, C.J."

"There isn't really much to tell. We haven't known each other that long." Sticking to as much of the truth as possible was the plan and deflecting whenever she couldn't think of a good lie.

"Well, then tell me something fun. Where did you meet?"

She sucked in a deep breath.
Here we go
. "I was waiting for someone and saw him crossing the restaurant." There. Whew.

"Oh, really?" Mimsy smiled. "What was the first thing you noticed about my grandson?"

C.J. felt her lips curl at the corners. They hadn't rehearsed this part, but the answer was easy. "That would be his eyes. They're an amazing shade of deep blue."

"Yes. I do believe that's what first drew me to James." It took C.J.'s mind a few moments to process that, to Mimsy, the Colonel would be James. "They drew me in right away, and I guess—as the movie says—he had me at hello."

"That's very sweet," Emily and C.J. echoed.

"Love at first sight always is." Up close, Mimsy had a softness and a tremendous amount of wisdom and compassion in her gaze that made C.J. very uncomfortable. But the way Mimsy's last comment seemed to be directed at C.J. had alarm bells in her head sounding and the hairs on the back of her neck rising. Without thinking, C.J. found herself glancing up and scanning the room quickly, relief settling over her as her gaze fell on Chase, chatting with a cousin. Feeling stronger, C.J. returned her attention to the family matriarch only to find the woman's smile had broadened and her eyes, pinned to C.J., twinkled with delight.
Oh, shit. What had she done?

* * *

"You'd better go rescue your lady friend." Devlin Ivory lifted his chin toward the far corner of the room. "Emily can hold her own in an Ivory inquisition but not so sure about your date."

Chase spotted C.J. chatting with his grandmother. He'd done his best to stay at her side, but, whenever the natural flow of conversations separated them, he'd kept one eye on her, ready to swoop in if she needed him. So far she'd done so well that he'd relaxed and gotten distracted, talking business with his favorite cousin. Being the same age, Devlin and Chase were as close as brothers. So much so that Chase had considered letting him in on the C.J. charade but decided, in the end, it was in his best interest to limit insider info to his siblings. And maybe his mother.

When it came to a family hierarchy, no doubt that the Colonel ran the roost the same way he'd ridden over his troops in the military. With a strong regimented hand. All the Ivory children knew the only reason that strong hand wasn't an iron fist was because of their grandmother, but something in the way Mimsy stared at C.J. had Chase on high alert. Time to rescue C.J. before the old lady fell for her as much as he had. He couldn't afford for Mimsy to grow too attached.
Too attached
. Too bad he wasn't following his own advice.

"It's about time I got my turn." The Colonel stood between his wife, now seated, and C.J., still standing with Emily.

"Colonel." Emily smiled at the older man, offering a reverent dip of her head.

"Emily." Nothing in the man's voice exuded the friendliness C.J. had noticed during dinner at the resort. And, from the way Emily's eyes dimmed, C.J. was pretty sure she wasn't the only one who had noticed.

"If you'll excuse me"—Emily sidestepped the Colonel "I believe Olivia is calling me."

Suddenly, in a room filled with people, C.J. felt very alone. Chase and his siblings had done their best at a game of keep-away, making sure the Colonel didn't have the chance to interrogate her, but, at the moment, she was clearly on her own.

"Why don't you sit down, dear?" Mimsy waved her husband to the empty chair beside her.

The Colonel merely huffed in response. That hadn't surprised C.J. at all. The higher up the ranks the officers climbed, the better they became at intimidation. Standing over a person was top on their list of tools. The other, staring her down, he was using now. She'd stood at attention too many times through the years to be even slightly uncomfortable. Keeping her shoulders straight and her gaze steady on his, she waited for him to make the first move.

"James," Mimsy said a little louder, breaking the spell.

Chase's grandfather let his gaze drift down to his wife, accompanied by a soft smile. "In a minute." For C.J., the hardness in his eyes had returned. "I understand you're here with my grandson Chase."

"Yes, sir." She still didn't move. She had not been dismissed.

"Do you live here in Florida?"

"Visiting my sister." Though most likely more long term than a typical visit, at least it was the truth.

His gaze remained level with hers. "You believe in family?"

"I would do anything for my sister." C.J. was, after all, here.

"Hmm." He scanned her face, looking for tells.

She recognized the behavior. Had done it herself many a time.

"What about your parents?"

"Father died when I was five. My mother still lives in Miami."

"James," Mimsy spoke up again.

This time retired US Marine Colonel James Ivory Junior hesitated before responding to his wife. His eyes narrowed as he tried to read C.J.'s soul, and then he blew out a soft sigh and dipped his chin. The scrutiny was over; she'd just been dismissed. Able to fully relax, she resisted the urge to clasp her hands behind her back and stand at parade rest.

"I think I'll take that seat now."

For a man with a cane, the old guy moved around very well. C.J. suspected the cane was more a prop than a necessity.

From the corner of her eye, C.J. spotted Chase making a beeline across the room. The funny part was that Mitch and Beth were also hauling ass from opposite corners. Foolish people. She'd told them she could hold her own.

* * *

"I don't understand." C.J. stood practically glued to the wall. "Why are my bags in here?"

Chase undid his tie and the top button of his collar. "Mimsy apologized for any inconvenience, but she wasn't expecting Siobhan to make it tonight or to bring a guest, so Mimsy put her in with Emily, but there were no more empty beds for Michael so he got your room. Apparently Mimsy thinks we're … closer than we are."

"Apparently." No way was C.J. moving away from the wall. Even if the bed was king-size. Sharing a room with Chase was not a good idea. Sharing the bed would be insanity. No woman had that much restraint.

"What I don't understand is the Colonel has always maintained a strict policy of no ring, no fraternizing."

"Since I don't have a ring—not that I want one," she added in a rush, "it looks like the rules have changed."

"Hmm."

"Hmm?"

"The Colonel doesn't
change
. At least not without a really good reason."

"So what are you saying?"

"My brothers were right."

"About?"

"Bringing you along wouldn't be enough to direct him to the others. It's only succeeded in moving him ahead to scheming for marriage and babies."

"How'd you come to that conclusion?"

Chase arched a knowing brow. "Two people. One bed. Do the math."

"I see what you mean. So now what do we do?" A bevy of famous old movies ran through her head, along with all the shared sleeping-arrangement scenarios. Among the laundry list of solutions fell: sleeping in the bathtub, cramming his six-foot-plus frame into the two easy chairs at the foot of the bed, rigging some kind of makeshift clothesline to hang a blanket between them, or perhaps building a wall of pillows on the bed, and, of course, the old standby—throw the comforter on the floor. None of which were destined to produce a good night's rest for either of them.

Undoing another button, Chase heaved out a heavy sigh. "I need to get out of this monkey suit."

That was not an image she needed him to encourage. "Maybe I can share with Beth?"

Chase stared at the king-size bed and, undoing another button, shook his head. "She's in with our cousin Alice."

"Oh." C.J.’s gaze drifted to his undone shirt and then to the bed. Now she not only had an image of him without his tux on, but without the tux and on the bed. She was in so much trouble.

* * *

No matter how many sleeping options ran through Chase's mind, every last one of the possibilities finished with him and C.J. naked in that big bed. Not what he'd promised her.

Raking his fingers through his hair and leaving his hand hooked around his neck, he reconsidered his options—again. "You take the bed. I'll take the floor." And sleep in his pants. If he kept his pants on, he might pull this off.

"You can't sleep on the floor. You won't get any rest."

At this point, no matter what, rest would not be an option. Sleeping down the hall from her in the villa had been nearly impossible; having her in the same room would be nothing more than guaranteed torture. He could sleep when he returned to New York. "It will be fine."