Summer on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #6)(48)

“Seriously?” Phoebe nearly laughed. “That’s why you were waiting outside my door?”

He frowned. “I probably shouldn’t have told you.”

“Probably not,” she said with a smile, “but I love it that you did.”

Her comment seemed to surprise him.

She sat beside Hutch, and Princess leaped effortlessly from his lap to hers. “What else did the book have to say?”

“Plenty. I’ve read it three times in the last six days.”

Phoebe laughed outright. “Oh, Hutch, you’re so sweet and funny.”

His brows drew together. “I’m glad you f ind me amusing.”

“And refreshing. And just plain wonderful.”

That brought up a question. “When you say I’m sweet, do you mean sweet as in delightful and charming? Or sweet the way young people use it—as in cool, intriguing and very satisfactory?”

He did a more-than-passable imitation of Bogart. Phoebe’s eyes widened. “Bogart’s my hero. The African Queen is my all-time favorite movie.”

Hutch went still for a moment. “Mine, too.”

Phoebe knew he hadn’t just invented that to f latter her; it wasn’t the sort of thing he did. She got up to feed Princess, then collected her purse. Hutch had made a reservation for six-thirty at a Thai restaurant; Phoebe had immediately agreed when he suggested it. She hadn’t eaten Thai in years. Clark felt that Asian restaurants didn’t attract the “upscale” clientele he wanted to be seen with. He would never have patronized a place like Basil, which Hutch had chosen for their dinner.

It was obvious that he was acquainted with the owners, who insisted on making the menu selections for them. Phoebe could barely restrain herself from asking Hutch about his background. She waited until they’d been served glasses of icy cold beer.

“I realized after we hung up this afternoon that I don’t know very much about you,” she began.

“You mean other than my superior biking skills?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “Other than that and your movie preferences and political views and—”

“What would you like to know?”

“Well… You’re an executive with your family’s business, but what exactly is it?”

He hesitated. “Ever heard of Mount Rainier Chocolates?”

Phoebe nearly choked on her beer. “You’ve got to be kidding!

I love those chocolates.”

“Thank you. My grandfather started the company shortly after the Second World War. He used a recipe passed down from his mother.”

“I like the caramels best.”

“Almost everyone does.”

“How come you’re only mentioning this now?”

“We were talking about other things,” he said with a shrug.

“I enjoyed our discussions and I saw no reason to bore you with details about my job.”

She didn’t doubt the sincerity of his answer. “Aren’t you a bit young to be at the company helm?” she asked next. Pain showed brief ly in his face. “My father died of a heart attack. He was f ifty-eight.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yes, we all were. The company was everything to Dad. I felt a responsibility to follow in his footsteps. Unfortunately I wasn’t ready to assume the role of CEO, so I had a lot to learn in a short amount of time.” He went on to tell her about the new candy bar the company was introducing, which sounded tempting to Phoebe. “I’ll bring a few to class soon,” he promised. Their food came in several courses and dinner couldn’t have been more delicious. At nine o’clock, after coffee and a dessert of fresh fruit and coconut ice cream, they left with profuse thanks to the owners and staff.

They’d walked to the restaurant, and when they stepped outside, they noticed the evening had cooled considerably. Phoebe had brought a sweater; Hutch held it politely as she slipped her arms into the sleeves.

“That was a divine dinner.”

“It always is,” Hutch said. “That’s why I chose this restaurant.”

They walked side by side in silence, and then Hutch reached for her hand. “The book said hand-holding is acceptable after the second date,” he told her.

“I see,” she said with a nod.

“There’s quite a list of rules, you know.”

“I guess I didn’t,” she said. “What other rules are there?”

“For one thing…” He paused. “Hey, I’m not giving away all my secrets.”

Phoebe laughed.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked.

“Just curious,” she said.

They strolled down the well-lit street, holding hands, swinging them slightly.

“Anything in particular that’s arousing your curiosity?”

“Actually, yes,” she replied.

Hutch stopped walking and looked down at her. They’d come to a side street where traff ic was light.

“I wondered what the book had to say about kissing.”

“Kissing,” he repeated. “According to the rules, it would be within the scope of respectable behavior to…”

“To do what?”

“To kiss you on the third date.”