The Billionaire's Touch (The Sinclairs #3)(14)
Apologetic words might be coming from her mouth, but Evan knew she was mocking him. “Perfection can be hard to achieve,” he told her mildly, knowing his arrogant statement would rile her.
She turned her back on him and began walking down the sidewalk, calling over her shoulder, “Send me a bill, Mr. Perfect. I’ll take care of my horrible aberration.”
He watched her navigate her way through the snowy walkway, wondering where in the hell she was going. Where was her vehicle? “Wait!” he called impulsively as she started to disappear in the dark. He followed her as she hesitated but didn’t turn around. He caught up to her at the curb. “Where did you park? It’s dark.”
“This is Amesport, not New York City. I’m fine,” she told him as she started walking again, navigating normally even in the dim light. “Why are you out here, anyway? The weather sucks, and it’s going to get worse. It’s brutally cold, and I’m sure you have more important things to do.”
Evan fell into step beside her. “I didn’t feel like working,” he admitted reluctantly. “Why are you still out in town?” He knew she was a teacher and got off work in the late afternoon.
“I was working at the Center and I wanted a coffee before I went home,” she said, her tone defensive. “And I was craving that éclair that I smashed on your coat.”
“I noticed you still ate it,” he observed.
She snorted. “It was your coat. I don’t imagine it was anything other than squeaky clean.”
She was poking fun at his attire.
Don’t let her get to you. Ignore it.
“Is your car at the Center?”
“Yes. And I’m perfectly safe. You don’t need to follow me.”
Evan felt his level of irritation rise, pushed to the limit. “Isn’t it rather ignorant to believe that bad things only happen in big cities?”
“In my experience, they usually do,” she answered quietly. “We have all kinds of visitors here, but other than the incidents with your brothers at the Center, nothing much has ever happened here in Amesport.”
“That doesn’t mean that it couldn’t,” Evan argued, the thought of anything bad happening to Randi strangely unsettling. Hell, Grady and Dante had both been injured here in Amesport by some pretty nasty men. It happened. Amesport was a tourist town. There could be all kinds of temporary crazies running around the town.
She turned to him suddenly and stopped, looking up at him in the muted illumination of the streetlights. “Look, I don’t feel like fighting with you right now. Catch me tomorrow, or any other day, and I’ll spar with you. But I’m tired. I’ve had a long day. Can you just go back to your car now and leave me alone?”
Evan looked down at her. Even without much light, he could see the dark circles under her eyes, and weariness in her expression.
They were right across the street from the Center where her car was parked.
“I won’t say a word if you don’t,” he told her uncharacteristically. For some reason, he didn’t want to see her look defeated. If they couldn’t speak without zinging each other, he’d stay silent to see her to her vehicle.
She turned without uttering a sound, crossing the street and shooting him a doubtful look as he followed.
True to his word, Evan didn’t say anything as he fell into step beside her. He wanted to ask her why she was weary, but he assumed she’d done a full day at work, and then had come to tutor as a volunteer at the Center. Obviously, if she was out this late, her workday had been long. However, he sensed there were other factors, but they were none of his business, and he didn’t want to start another verbal sparring match with her.
I feel like it’s either fight with her or pin her against the wall and fuck her until she’s out of my system.
It didn’t matter that they were out in the frigid open air. His cock was at attention, begging him to pick the second option.
Unfortunately, she hated him, and Evan didn’t think fucking her senseless was going to be an option.
He wrapped his fingers unconsciously around the crystal in his pocket, wishing he could find a way to communicate with Randi. What was bothering her? Why did she look so tired? He wanted to strike up a reasonable conversation, but he was afraid of putting his foot in his mouth . . . again. The moment she put him on the defensive, he struck out verbally. It was always this way with her.
“We’re here. This is me,” Randi said breathlessly, pointing toward a vehicle covered in snow, one of the few cars still in the parking lot.
She dropped the remainder of her cold coffee into a trash receptacle close to her vehicle, and Evan did the same. He’d never really wanted the beverage anyway.
“Give me the keys,” he demanded.
Surprisingly, she reached in her pocket to hand them over. She pulled them out, causing something else to drop to the ground. Without thinking, Evan bent and picked up the object. He held the item in his hand for a moment, stunned. “You have one of these, too?” he asked hoarsely.
“The Apache tear. Yeah. I got it from Beatrice. She thinks I’m going to meet my soul mate.” Randi reached for the stone and hurriedly shoved it back in her pocket. “I like her. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”
Evan took the keys she was dangling in front of him and opened the door of the vehicle. It was hard to tell exactly what kind of car it was when it was covered in snow, but it appeared to be a small SUV. He started it quickly and grabbed the snow brush in the backseat to clear the slush and ice off the body and windows of the car.