Page 19 of Spilling the Tea

“No, you didn’t,” she said, stepping over the threshold. There was no way she would tell him he’d awakened her from her dream about him. “I’ve barely been able to contain my excitementsince your call. I can’t wait to see the portrait you told me about.”

She turned to Corbin. “Do you live here, too?” she asked when he closed the door behind her.

Corbin shook his head. “No, I have a place in town. Chance said you’re a doctor.”

“Yes, I’m an orthopedic surgeon at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore.”

“And I understand you had an aunt who recently passed away. I offer my condolences,” Corbin added.

“Thank you.”

“Do you know if your aunt ever went on a cruise in the last twenty years?”

Zoey thought the question was odd. Before she could answer, Chance spoke up and said tersely, “Corbin, you don’t need to know that.”

Corbin shrugged and said to Chance. “Just thought I’d double-check.”

Zoey’s gaze shifted from one man to the other, sure she was missing something. It was some inside joke between the two brothers. However, she had no problem answering Corbin’s question. “My aunt has never gone on a cruise. She hated being out on the water in a boat of any size. Can I see the portrait?” she asked, not caring if she sounded anxious.

“Yes, follow me this way,” Chance said, and she didn’t miss the glare he gave Corbin. “I brought it down from the attic and placed it in the dining room.”

“Okay.” She was surprised when Corbin linked his arm with hers—she figured he was being a gentleman. They followed Chance from the living room.

She’d noted his spacious kitchen yesterday when he’d led her to the backyard. Now she saw how massive his entire ranch house was. There was a charming staircase that curved at the top before reaching the landing. She wished she could rememberspending time here with her parents and grandparents. Now all she had was just pieces of her dreams.

She stopped and pulled her arm from Corbin to place her hand on her upper chest. Her breath caught when she saw the large portrait Chance had propped in the middle of his dining room table. The wooden frame was sturdy with beautiful decorative edging. But what captured her attention was the woman who’d posed for the artist—her grandmother. Chance was right. The two favored each other. And from the photos she’d seen of her mother, she also looked like them.

“You’re wearing that same necklace,” Corbin said.

“Yes, I am,” she said softly, reaching up to finger the heart pendant necklace. “I found it in my aunt’s belongings when I discovered the documents about the sale of this ranch. I figured it had been my dad’s gift to my mom since Mom always wore it in my dreams. Now I see it once belonged to my grandmother.”

The necklace had become her inner strength from the day Zoey began wearing it. Whenever she felt down in the dumps or sad, just touching it reminded her of the woman who’d worn the necklace before her, whom she’d assumed had only been her mother. Now knowing the necklace had been passed down through generations touched her deeply.

Zoey had told herself she wouldn’t get emotional when she saw the portrait, but she couldn’t help it. Just knowing this beautiful young woman, smiling with similar dimples, had been her grandmother was affecting her. And she was standing by that huge oak tree in the front yard of this ranch house.

She noticed Chance was staring at her as if he was able to feel her joy and pain. Like yesterday, their gazes locked, and the same intense attraction she’d felt then overwhelmed her. She knew she should pull her gaze from his but couldn’t.

He began moving toward her, and her heart kicked up a notch. She wanted him to pull her into his arms because, more than anything, at that moment, she needed to be held by him.He stopped directly in front of her, and made a move to reach for her when, suddenly, Corbin cleared his throat.

She’d forgotten Corbin was in the room, and from the look on Chance’s face, it was obvious that he’d done so as well. He stepped back to put distance between them.

“Your grandmother was beautiful,” Corbin said as if to break the awkwardness in the room.

Zoey appreciated his effort. “Yes, she was,” she said, looking at the portrait again.

“Just like you,” Corbin added.

She gave him a smile. “Thank you.” She then studied the painting again. “I have no idea what her name was.”

“Arabella,” Chance said in what she thought was a deep husky tone. “Your maternal grandmother was Arabella Martin.”

Glancing over at him, she asked, “How do you know that?”

“I talked to my great-grandmother this morning. She remembers her.”

Zoey couldn’t downplay the excitement she felt. “She does?”

“Yes, and she remembers your mother as well.”

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