And for the time she was here, Sloane decided she’d like to get to know this place too.
She’d start by visiting shops and meeting people and hopefully finding out more information about Samson at the same time. “What time does Charlotte’s Attic open?”
Sloane asked Izzy.
“Beth Hansen, the manager, usually gets the place open around ten. Unless she’s had a late night with her boyfriend. Then it’s closer to ten-fifteen.” Izzy nodded knowingly.
Sloane immediately recognized the older woman’s intention to impart more gossip, but she wouldn’t have privacy if she didn’t respect others’. “I’ll try to stop by later.”
“Make sure you do. They’ve got sexy stuff. Items that’d make a normal man drool, if you get my drift. Not that my Norman cares anymore.” She wagged a finger back toward her husband, who was busy cooking in the kitchen.
That was more information than Sloane needed to know, but Izzy was oblivious and continued without missing a beat. “Now, a virile young man like Chase”—she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively—“I’m sure I don’t have to say more.”
Definitely not, Sloane thought. But Izzy was friendly and meant well, so Sloane smiled.
“I’ll be sure to let Beth and Charlotte know you’re a talking advertisement.” She decided to get out before Izzy could share any more.
Turning, she started for the door and bumped into a blonde about the same age as herself.
She grabbed her bag tighter so as not to drop breakfast. “I’m sorry.”
“No problem.” The other woman stepped back to make room for Sloane to pass. “You’re new in town.”
Not a question, Sloane mused. Apparently, a new face was something immediately recognized around here. Nothing like D.C., where she saw different people every day.
Sloane nodded. “I’m just passing through.” She didn’t want to be rude, but she could feel the minutes ticking by since she’d left the house. She didn’t want Chase to wake up and have him think she’d slipped out on him to avoid talking.
The pretty blonde smiled. “I was just passing through too, when I came to Yorkshire Falls. Then I decided to make my stay permanent. Oh, I’m Kendall Sutton. I mean, I’m Kendall Chandler.” She shook her head and laughed. “I guess I’m still not used to the new name. I’m a newlywed,” she explained.
Recognition dawned. “You’re Rick’s wife.”
Kendall nodded, smiling.
“I’m Sloane—”
“Carlisle,” Kendall whispered. “I know. Rick told me about you. But unlike the rest of this town, you can trust my discretion.”
Something about Kendall’s warmth told Sloane she could believe her. That and the fact that she was married to Chase’s brother. The Chandlers struck her as smart men, wise in their dealing with people. “I appreciate that,” Sloane said.
Kendall held open the door for her. “I don’t know how long you plan on staying, but if you ever need a friend or want company or whatever, call.”
“I will.” Sloane liked Rick’s wife. As she walked to her car, she realized she liked an awful lot about this quaint upstate town, including the warm people who said hello to her as she passed, and the more leisurely pace compared to D.C.
And as she pulled into Chase’s driveway and parked around back, she discovered she liked coming home to him most of all.
CHAPTER NINE
The car door slammed and the front door creaked on opening before shutting closed.
Chase relaxed in bed, listening to the sound of Sloane’s return. Opening his eyes, he saw two delicious sights, Sloane and a tray of his favorite breakfast, French toast and bacon.
He eyed the food and his guest with gratitude. “You didn’t have to go to any trouble.”
“I did if I wanted to eat.” Laughing, she settled in across from him, curling her knees beneath her so the tray separated them. “Besides, it was no trouble. I wanted to do something nice for you.”
It was a novelty he wasn’t used to. Such a small gesture, yet one that had his heart opening toward Sloane.
She picked up a napkin and handed it to him, then pried the plastic lid off his coffee cup.
“And you wanted to keep busy while we talked?”
“You’re too perceptive.”
He recognized the nervousness in her voice. She was a combination of strength and vulnerability, caring and independence, and Chase was drawn to all facets. “Thank you for the food.”
“You’re welcome.”
Reaching across the tray as if to breach a divide, he squeezed her hand. “Don’t be nervous. I’m not out to hurt you.”
She wrinkled her nose, obviously thinking about his words. “It’s funny how much I trust you despite the fact that there’s that reporter inside you.”
His smile came without warning. “I’m glad.”
She paused for a sip of her coffee and he did the same, but he didn’t need the jolt the caffeine would give. Sloane provided enough of a jump start to his system. “Want to tell me why this sudden trust?”
She shrugged. “You saved my pretty behind as you so eloquently put it.”
“That’s gratitude, and a far cry from trust.” And why did he need that trust so badly, when every journalistic fiber of his being screamed to him that her story would make his career. Translation—he shouldn’t get any more personally involved.
“Why did I have to find a perceptive man?” She glanced down at the tray and pulled a fork into her hand. “There are other reasons too. For one thing, I already trusted you in a completely intimate way. I don’t do that often or lightly as I said once before.” She toyed with the uneaten muffin on her plate, mashing bits with her fork and not meeting his gaze. “And I wouldn’t have repeated being with you if you hadn’t come to mean something to me,” she admitted.
His rapidly beating heart nearly stopped. “You mean something to me too,” he said in a rough voice.
“Not even Madeline knows some of what I’m going to tell you, Chase. You can’t report on this. At least not until it’s safe,” she added, and swallowed hard. “But at some point you’ll have to decide what’s right for you.”
She looked at him with such hope and belief in him shining in her eyes, he wondered if she was doomed to disappointment. He couldn’t believe fate could be so cruel as to make him choose between Sloane’s approval and his own long-held desires.