His gaze met hers, and she noticed a slight, endearingly naughty twinkle in his eyes. “I think I’m starting to like you.”
His tone was morose, but Randi knew he was trying to tease her. His attempt was adorable and sweet, since she knew instinctively that what he was trying to do wasn’t easy for a man like Evan.
Randi burst out laughing and hugged him to her chest. She sobered and tried to mimic his serious tone, but knew that she failed miserably. “I think I like you, too.”
CHAPTER 8
Dear S.,
I’m sorry I didn’t write earlier, but I lost power at my place. I had to come into town for a day or two until the storm passes. I live about ten miles out of town. I hope you’re safe and warm.
Dear M.,
I hope you’re okay. Do you have a friend to stay with in town?
Dear S.,
Not really a friend. Actually, I’m staying with the guy I was telling you about, the one you thought I should stay away from. Before you warn me away again, he’s not so bad. In fact, I think I like him. He was kind to me last night and took me into his home. I think maybe I misunderstood him.
Dear M.,
Then definitely don’t dump him. Maybe you should try to understand him a little better. And yes, I’m staying very warm. I met someone who helps chase away the cold.
Randi hesitated as she saw her pen pal’s answer. He met someone? How did she feel about that exactly? She cared a lot about her mysterious S., and she wanted him to be happy. She’d known all along that they’d never meet, and she couldn’t be selfish and wish him to be as miserably alone as she was, just so he could write to her forever.
Dear S.,
I’m happy for you. So I guess you won’t be alone on date nights anymore?
Dear M.,
Don’t know. It isn’t really date night yet.
Randi laughed out loud. It was only Monday.
Dear S.,
Here’s to hoping you won’t be writing to me on Friday. I hope she’s good enough for you.
Dear M.,
She’s way too good for me, actually.
So what about you? Are you going to be available on date nights in the future?
Randi sighed and stretched her sore body in the recliner, holding her laptop on her thighs. She’d put some of her muscles into positions the night before that hadn’t been tested that way in years.
Evan had taken her up to his bed, where they’d explored each other’s bodies at leisure, leaving them both spent when they’d finally fallen asleep.
She’d woken up this morning to find him gone. After showering, she’d come downstairs looking for her laptop and her clothes. She’d found both, and was now sitting in the recliner she and Evan had shared the night before, talking to her mysterious S. while she waited to see where Evan had gone.
Wherever he was, he must have taken Lily with him. Her dog was trained to come when called, and Randi had looked everywhere. “Maybe he took her for a walk,” she muttered to herself, still perplexed about where he’d gone.
Dear S.,
Inevitably, I’ll be available.
Dear M.,
What about your guy? I think you should get to know him better. Maybe you misjudged him initially. You did say he was nice to you.
Randi hesitated, knowing she couldn’t say much about Evan. Whoever her mysterious letter writer was, he probably worked for the Sinclairs.
Dear S.,
He’s just visiting. It’s not really a serious thing.
Dear M.,
Maybe it could become more?
Dear S.,
Unfortunately . . . no.
Dear M.,
Why? I thought you were starting to like him.
Dear S.,
Long story. We come from two completely different worlds.
Dear M.,
What if he wants more, and he doesn’t care if you’re from separate planets?
Randi chuckled at his comment.
Dear S.,
I don’t think that will become an issue. It’s just a fling for us, a way to get over something that’s been between us for a long time.
Evan might desire her, and maybe he’d even come to like her, but she wasn’t deluding herself about the possibility of a schoolteacher with her jaded background and a billionaire having any chance at a lasting relationship. Evan would be off to do business again, and she’d go back to her job after the storm was over.
Dear M.,
I’m here if you want to talk about it.
Randi took a deep breath, tempted to tell him everything. But she couldn’t. There was still so much about her personal life that he didn’t know, and his connection to the Sinclairs was uncertain. She might share her emotions with her mystery guy, but there were still some things she didn’t dare write about.
Dear S.,
Thanks for always being here for me. It’s always meant a lot. Good luck with continuing to stay warm. I’m off to find my dog. I can’t figure out where she went. We’ll talk soon.
Randi signed out of her email and off the computer, closing the lid and setting it on the floor. She tried desperately not to feel a pang of regret at the news that S. had a new woman in his life, and obviously one he cared about. While she wanted to be happy for him, she’d come to rely on his friendship, advice, common sense, and compassion in the last year. There had been times that she’d felt connected to him by something even deeper than friendship, but she had no idea exactly what it was. At times, it was almost as if they were kindred spirits, understanding each other on a level a little different than friendship. Unfortunately, she’d probably never know.
She had wanted to meet him, but a streetwise woman with her background had more sense than to believe that meeting a stranger she knew only by email could be anything other than dangerous. In fact, it could end up being a disaster of epic proportions if they didn’t connect well in person. They’d both lose a friendship that they’d come to depend on in the last year.
“Oh well, it doesn’t matter anymore. He has his woman now,” she whispered quietly to herself, hoping the unknown female realized what a wonderful guy she had. If she didn’t, Randi would kick the crap out of the unknown female herself. She might have never met him face-to-face, but he’d spent enough lonely nights with her, comforting her after she lost Joan, that she knew he had an enormous heart.
Randi yawned as she rose from the chair.
I need coffee. Bad.
She wandered through the massive house, searching for the kitchen, noting that although the house and furnishings were beautiful, they seemed . . . unused, cold. It was likely because it was rarely used, and there wasn’t really a personal feel to the residence.
Wondering if she should continue to search for Lily, she was surprised when Evan came through a door in the kitchen that she hadn’t seen before. Lily was right behind him.
“Hey, sweet girl,” Randi crooned, squatting down to let Lily give her morning doggie kisses. She cuddled the enthusiastic dog as she looked up at Evan. “Good morning,” she said cautiously, flushing as she remembered all that had happened between them the night before.