The Billionaire's Touch (The Sinclairs #3)(22)
Hope called her cell phone just a few minutes after to let her know she’d picked up supplies for her and they were on their way.
“My power is out,” she told Hope unhappily as she stuffed some clothing into her backpack. “I’m going to need to come into town anyway and wait out the storm. My generator isn’t working.”
Randi had made that unfortunate discovery soon after the power had gone off. Being rural, she lost power more often than they did in town, and it was slower to come back on. She should have checked the generator before winter, but Joan had been so sick that it had slipped her mind. “I’ll get a room at one of the inns for a day or two. The hotels and inns should have openings. It’s off-season right now.”
“No, you will not!” Hope’s declaration came fiercely across the phone communication. “You can stay with us. We have plenty of room, and we have a whole-house generator even if the power goes out.”
“You have a new baby—”
“And you have friends. Lots of them,” Hope said firmly. “Get your butt over here. Tell Evan to bring you home with him. He should be there to drop off your groceries any minute.”
“Evan?” Randi stopped short of stuffing her underwear inside her pack.
“He’s bringing the supplies personally. He was worried about you.”
“Evan?” Randi repeated, having a difficult time imagining one of the richest men in the world delivering groceries, much less just because he was concerned about her being caught in a storm.
“He’s not so bad, Randi,” Hope replied softly. “Maybe he can’t always express himself well, but he does have a heart.”
Randi could hear the fondness radiate through Hope’s voice, and she could hardly tell Evan’s sister that she thought her brother was an arrogant jackass. “It was a nice thing for him to do,” she admitted reluctantly, wondering at the same time what ulterior motive Evan had in doing her a favor. Men like Evan Sinclair didn’t just do menial jobs for anybody who needed something. He had to have a purpose. She supposed all sisters wanted to think their brothers had a heart, but Randi certainly hadn’t seen any sign of one existing in Evan yet.
“Do me a favor?” Hope requested.
“Of course,” Randi agreed readily. She adored Hope, and she’d do anything she asked.
“Give Evan a chance.”
Okay . . . she’d do anything except that. “We don’t like each other, Hope. We rub each other the wrong way. We’re too different to be friends.” It wasn’t like Randi hadn’t tried, and she still couldn’t forget the scorching-hot kiss they’d shared a few days ago. However, getting involved with a heartless billionaire like Evan would be a big mistake. In spite of having some basic and incredibly strong physical chemistry, they couldn’t be together for more than a minute without arguing or just plain ignoring each other so they didn’t fight.
“Things aren’t always exactly what they seem,” Hope hedged.
“Are you saying your brother isn’t an asshole?” Randi asked bluntly, wondering if Hope saw a way-different Evan than she did.
“No,” Hope admitted with humor in her voice. “He is an asshole sometimes, but maybe he has his reasons. You know what our childhood was like.”
Randi’s heart clenched as she heard a trace of vulnerability in Hope’s voice. She often met with the Sinclair wives, along with her friends Kristin and Tessa, and all of the women had become pretty close. They all shared most of their secrets, and Randi knew how stifling and depressing Hope’s upbringing had been. What would it have been like to be the eldest child of Hope’s alcoholic, neurotic father? Obviously, Hope’s parent had put some pretty high expectations on his eldest son. “I know,” she finally answered as she continued stuffing articles of clothing into her bag. “I’ll try to be nice to him. I promise,” she vowed, optimistic that she could hold her temper for more than a few minutes. The guy was bringing her supplies through a major blizzard. Even if he did have ulterior motives, Randi was grateful. Too bad she’d lost power and had to go into town. It would essentially be a wasted trip for Evan.
“Good. I’ll see you soon,” Hope said, sounding satisfied.
Randi said good-bye to Hope and clicked the “Off” button on her phone, dropping it onto the bed.
“Looks like we’re going for a longer ride, Lily,” she informed her dog.
Lily was lying on the bed next to Randi’s backpack, watching her mistress carefully, trying to surmise what was about to happen.
At the mention of a ride, Lily bolted to her feet and leapt agilely and happily off the mattress to the carpeted floor, whining her doggy joy.
“I’m glad you’re happy,” Randi told her pup as she closed the zipper on her pack. She wasn’t exactly thrilled about leaving her home, even if it was for just a day or two. She jumped as she heard somebody hammering on her front door.
Evan?
Her heart skipping a beat, she tried not to picture him pinning her body against her vehicle and kissing her breathless.
“Coming,” she yelled as Lily began to bark.
She opened the door and every bit of air left her lungs in one enormous whoosh, a sound she couldn’t conceal as she looked at the man on her doorstep. There was Evan Sinclair in his fancy wool coat, looking as handsome as ever, and she had the same breathless reaction to him that she always did. He had a cream scarf tucked into the neckline, but his head was bare. “I need to unload some stuff,” Evan said bluntly, his windblown dark hair whipping around in the brutal storm.