“Tired?” Evan asked curiously.
“No. Just glad we’re getting close to town.” Starting to see familiar territory, she realized they were on the edges of Amesport. “If you could drop me off at Hope’s place, I’d appreciate it. She offered to put me up.”
“I can’t drop you off there.” Evan dismissed her request patiently as he navigated toward the Peninsula.
Randi gaped at him. “Why?”
Evan was silent for a few moments before answering. “Because you’re staying with me.”
CHAPTER 7
Don’t panic. You can do this for a day or two. It isn’t a big deal.
Randi released a heavy breath as she watched Evan shuck his coat and scarf, getting an eyeful of what a perfect ass in a pair of jeans actually looked like. Holy shit! Evan Sinclair’s butt was a work of art, and his broad shoulders in the cream-colored fisherman’s sweater he was wearing seemed enormous.
He’s not that incredibly built. He’s not. He really isn’t.
Evan turned around suddenly, lifting a brow at her as he saw exactly what area her eyes were glued to. Jerking away her gaze that was now trained on his crotch, she actually blushed.
“I can’t do this,” she protested weakly . . . again.
She’d argued with Evan about staying with him at his place, but he’d serenely pointed out that Hope’s cat, Daisy, hated dogs. She’d forgotten about Daisy and just about everything else since Evan had picked her up. It was like her IQ score had taken a sudden hit, and she couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say when she was in Evan’s presence.
“Of course you can,” Evan argued. “There’s plenty of room.”
I can’t be trusted to be alone with you, and it has nothing to do with space.
“It isn’t the size of the house,” she admitted, unzipping her jacket and shrugging out of it.
“Is it because you know I want to fuck you?” Evan asked evenly.
Randi’s eyes grew wide the moment Evan made his blunt admission.
Moving forward, Evan took the jacket from her hand and hung it up in the entry closet beside his, talking as he performed the task. “Miranda, I think we’re both uncomfortable with each other because all we want to do is fuck each other senseless.”
Randi couldn’t seem to form any words, still shocked at his straightforward confession. The Evan she was familiar with wasn’t a guy who said something like that. Generally, he didn’t say much at all.
He continued, “Maybe we should both put it out there and deal with it.” He turned and pierced her with a dark look. “I want you. I always have.”
He motioned toward the living room and Randi automatically moved into the next room, even though it was pretty dark. “You can’t stand me.” She could barely keep herself from stammering as she flopped into one of the leather chairs in front of a fireplace, stunned.
Evan flicked a switch, starting the gas fireplace so the room was dimly illuminated before seating himself across from her in a matching chair. “I never disliked you. I don’t even really know you.”
“You ignored me,” Randi protested, remembering how humiliated she’d felt when she’d gotten the cold shoulder from Evan.
He shrugged. “My dick was hard. It wasn’t easy to ignore my attraction to you, and it showed.”
“But I was nice to you, I wanted to be your friend because your brother was marrying one of my best friends.” She still remembered how crushed she’d been when Evan had ignored her efforts to be nice to him at Emily’s wedding.
“I was an asshole. I generally am,” he told her nonchalantly.
Randi opened her mouth to speak, but how could she argue with him? He was declaring himself an unpleasant person already. Closing her mouth, she fixed her eyes on his expression, trying to figure him out. Was Evan really a jerk, or was he just painfully blunt? Either way, he was usually not a pleasant person to be around. Yet she found him intriguing. He was a mystery to solve, a puzzle to put together. If he was in the mood to talk, maybe she could dig for a little information to figure him out.
Lily had been exploring the enormous mansion since she’d pranced in the front door. Now, she was head-butting Randi’s arm.
“She needs to go outside,” Randi told Evan as she rose to her feet. The last thing she needed was Lily leaving her mark on one of the plush, expensive area rugs in Evan’s living room.
“Is that how you know?” Evan asked curiously as he strode across the room and opened one of the French doors that led to a patio.
“Yes. She’s pretty adamant when she really has to go.” Randi eyed the patio doubtfully. “Is there a place for her to go?”
“Any place outside of the door is preferable,” he said, deadpan.
Randi walked onto the covered patio and opened a small gate leading to the beach. Lily sprinted out into the snow. “She can’t poop on the patio.”
“It can be cleaned up. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’m going to use it right now, and it’s probably warmer than it is beyond that gate.”
Laughter burst from Randi’s mouth because she was unable to contain it. Evan had said some of the oddest, most surprising things today. And she was fairly certain he probably meant them. “She’s used to going all the way outside.”
Randi left the gate propped open and slipped back through the door. “It’s cold.” She was shivering as she closed the door, knowing Lily would come back when she was finished.
Evan blocked her escape route with his body. His touch was gentle as he slipped his fingers into her hair and tipped her head up to look at him. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, Miranda. At Emily’s wedding, I really didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything.”
Randi looked up at him and shivered as she fell into his dark, liquid blue eyes. He was looking at her like a predator that hadn’t had food in weeks, his gaze devouring every inch of her face. His intensity at the moment made her edgy, and his unexpected apology threw her off balance. This wasn’t the Evan she was used to, the Evan who either ignored her or threw out condescending comments.
His body pressed closer, his free hand resting against the door beside her face.
“I forgive you,” she said in a rushed voice. “Just don’t kiss me again.”
If he lays those lips on me, I know I’m toast.
His unique, masculine scent surrounded her, sinking into every pore of her skin, intoxicating her. If he tasted her, she’d never be able to resist him.
“Why?” he asked huskily. “Don’t tell me you don’t want this, Miranda.”
His tone was entreating, almost pleading with her to acknowledge the smoldering heat between them. Her heart skittered as he pressed his lips to her temple, leaving a hot trail of breath along the side of her face.
“I can’t,” she said painfully, knowing she wanted him to kiss her worse than she’d ever wanted anything else in her life. “And nobody calls me Miranda.”