“The mysterious man in my life,” Randi murmured under her breath. “What’s his first name? Starting with S?” Stewart? Sam? Sylvester? Scott? Seth? Randi had gone through the list many times. None of those names had ever quite fit.

  Her heart accelerated as she saw an answer pop into her mailbox almost immediately. She clicked on the mouse to show his response.

  Dear M.,

  I’m glad you’re feeling a little less conflicted, but sorry you are feeling so alone. Please let me know what I can do to help you. I know we’ve never met in person, but you’ve been more of a friend to me than anyone else in my life in the past year.

  Are my parents living? Yes . . . and no. My father died when I was in college and I haven’t seen my mother for many years. She doesn’t want anything to do with me or my siblings. The last I heard, she was living with a guy in Europe, probably trying to forget about my deceased, alcoholic father. He wasn’t a pleasant man. Perhaps that’s too much information, but it’s the truth.

  I’m not in Boston at the moment, but I haven’t gone to a warmer climate, unfortunately.

  Hope you manage to stay warm, too.

  Sincerely,

  S.

  Randi had to read the email twice, surprised that S. had shared so much personal information. Then again, maybe she shouldn’t be shocked. She’d certainly poured her heart out to him about her foster parents over the last few months. Maybe he felt more comfortable. She hit “Reply,” somehow knowing he was waiting for her response. Sometimes it played out that way. They had a back-and-forth discussion when both of them happened to be on the computer at the same time.

  Dear S.,

  Where are you now?

  She didn’t bother to sign the reply because they were in conversation mode at the moment. He answered within a minute.

  Maine. And can I just say that it’s pretty damn cold here.

  “He’s here,” Randi whispered, tracing her finger over his answer on the screen. His reply could have been creepy, since she lived in the state he was visiting, but it wasn’t. Whatever his reason might be for visiting Maine, it wasn’t because of her. He’d always known what town she lived in, and she’d been writing to him for over a year. “Don’t do it, Randi. Don’t ask him to meet up. He’s probably here on business or fundraising. Most likely in some rich area where donors can be found,” she reasoned to herself quietly. Her fear of meeting an unknown male overrode her desire to see him, no matter how much she’d like to know him in person.

  Randi typed back a quick reply.

  Why are you here? BTW . . . there’s a storm coming. I hope you don’t get stuck here.

  His response came back quickly.

  I have family in Maine. I’m just visiting. And no, I didn’t know we were expecting bad weather. But it’s not a problem if I have to stay here a little longer. I have a place to stay.

  It made sense. He was in the area for a family visit, and he hadn’t said a word about meeting her in person. Seeing each other face-to-face would be as unlikely as it was inadvisable. With a major storm coming their way, they could hardly meet. She answered him for the last time, knowing she needed to get moving.

  I have to get going, but I hope you have a good time with your family. Maybe we can talk if you get bored during the storm.

  She moved her mouse to sign off the Center’s computer, but she saw a reply pop back into her mailbox almost instantly.

  Hot date?

  Randi laughed aloud, glad there was nobody else in the Center’s computer room at the moment. It was Friday night, and the two of them often caught up and went into conversation mode on date nights, razzing each other because they were both alone when most single people like them were out on the town. Unable to resist answering, she typed a response.

  Actually, I do have a date, but whether it’s hot or not is still in question. A high school friend of mine wanted me to meet her brother. She thinks we’d get along well. We’re meeting up in a few minutes. So I have to go. Talk to you soon. Stay safe during the storm.

  She really did have to go, so she shrugged her jacket on as she stared at the screen, almost wishing she didn’t have a kind-of-a-date with Liam Sullivan, her friend Tessa’s brother. She knew of Liam, but she’d only said a handful of words to him in the past. After months of Tessa’s nagging, Randi had finally agreed to have coffee with him at Brew Magic. If she didn’t move her rear, she’d be late.

  She didn’t really expect a reply from S. since she’d basically said good-bye, but she got one anyway.

  You have a date with a local guy on a Friday night? I think I’m jealous. I hope you have a lousy time while I’m sitting here alone working. Be careful and email me when you get home.

  Randi smiled at the computer screen. She was used to her mystery man’s quirky humor. But the demand that she email him was . . . different. He didn’t know that she never sent him an email except when she was volunteering at the Center. It was more out of habit now than the concern about him tracking her down. It was kind of sweet that he was actually concerned about her safety.

  Okay.

  She sent the one-word email and forced herself to shut down her computer. She’d have to sprint down the street to Brew Magic or Liam would think she’d stood him up. From what she’d heard, he was a pretty nice guy, and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. How could he not be nice? He’d given up a promising career to move back to Amesport to watch over his deaf sister. Not that Tessa would accept any help. Her friend didn’t think she was any different just because she’d lost her ability to hear.

  Randi was meeting with him mainly to get Tessa off her back; she had a feeling Liam had agreed for the same reason. Her friend Tessa might be deaf, but she was a master at manipulating people. She could be like a dog with a tasty bone when she wanted something, and she wanted her brother Liam to be happily settled with a woman of his own. Tessa loved her brother, but he was incredibly protective since she’d lost her ability to hear. Since Liam blamed himself for Tessa’s condition, he’d moved from California back to Amesport several years ago.

  He gave up a career he loved to look after his sister. I know he’s a nice guy, but I’ve just never really felt a connection with him.

  The few times she’d met up with Liam had been at his and Tessa’s restaurant, Sullivan’s Steak and Seafood. Randi knew a lot about Liam because Tessa talked about him a lot, but they had only spoken to each other in passing.

  Maybe there will be something more if we have a private chat . . .

  Randi was an optimist, and more than anything else she wanted to feel loved. Sure, she’d had boyfriends, but they’d never amounted to a serious relationship. She liked sex as much as any other female her age, but she was burnt out on meaningless relationships that involved nothing but sex. There had to be something more. She’d seen it between her foster parents, and she saw it every day between her married friends and their spouses. Unfortunately, she’d never experienced that white-hot connection with anyone except the one man she couldn’t stand: Evan Sinclair.

  Don’t think about him. He’s an arrogant, insufferable asshole.

  She shuddered as she thought about how hard she’d tried to get to know Evan in the beginning, only to be soundly rejected. Obviously, a lowly teacher in a small town wasn’t worth him putting out the effort to even be polite. It wasn’t like she’d wanted to jump his bones. Well . . . maybe she had wanted to, but at the time she was just trying to be nice to a man she knew she was going to have to deal with for Emily’s wedding. She had managed to shrug off the first snub during Emily’s nuptials, thinking maybe Evan was just having a bad day. But when he’d responded the same way when Sarah and Dante had gotten married and the two of them had found themselves paired once again, Randi had finally realized that Evan simply didn’t like her. By the time Mara and Jared got married, Randi had completely ignored him except for the necessary superficial smiles and robotic motions she’d made as a bridesmaid to Evan’s groomsman. Since all of the married Sinclairs had wanted to be paired with their wives, Randi had ended up being a bridesmaid by default, as Mara’s best friend’s broken leg hadn’t completely healed in time for her to be part of the ceremony. She didn’t regret having been a bridesmaid so many times. Through the ceremonies, she’d made an incredible circle of female friends who had been there to support her during the last few dark weeks. Unfortunately, those friendships had come at the price of putting up with Evan Sinclair.

  Too bad he’s such a self-involved dick, because he’s majorly hot. I wish I could figure out why I’m so damn attracted to him when I can’t stand him.

  She was still contemplating what it was about Evan that irritated her when she left the building. The Center was busy as Randi exited, deciding to walk down to Brew Magic instead of taking the time to clean the snow off her car. Friday night saw a lot of activity at the Center, especially since Grady had married Emily and so many new programs and changes had occurred.

  Shoving her cold hands into the pockets of her jacket, Randi gripped the Apache-tear crystal that Beatrice had given her months ago when she’d stopped by the elderly woman’s store, Natural Elements, to chat. Beatrice had been friends with Randi’s foster mother, and she’d stopped into the eclectic shop whenever she had the chance to update Beatrice on Joan’s medical condition. It was on one of those visits that Beatrice had made her prediction and handed Randi the crystal along with her predictions.

  Joan will pass in the winter, but you’ll open a new chapter in your life soon after with a man who needs you even more than you need him. He’ll be your soul mate, and you’ll finally become a bride instead of a bridesmaid.

  Randi shook her head with a sad smile, remembering the certainty on Beatrice’s face that day.

  Picking up her pace, she trudged quickly through the lightly falling snow on the sidewalk. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe that supernatural talents could exist, but she didn’t take the elderly woman’s words too seriously. She’d known Beatrice since she’d moved to Amesport as a teen. Some of her predictions were eerily accurate, some of them weren’t. Randi’s rational mind was telling her that the accurate predictions Beatrice made could simply be coincidence. They had to be flukes. Randi was open-minded, but she had to draw the line at somebody knowing her future. She believed in people deciding their own fate or destiny. Anything else was just . . . chance.

  She waited for traffic to clear before she sprinted across the street, her boots sliding in the snow as she stopped breathlessly in front of Brew Magic. She ignored the sensation that the crystal in her pocket appeared to warm beneath her fingers, before she jerked her hands from the warmth of the fleece compartments to hastily attempt to right her damp, wind-tossed hair.

  “Beatrice’s stone is not magic, and her prediction is nothing more than nonsense,” she told herself forcefully as she brushed the snow from her head and tried to make herself presentable to go chat with Liam. “Things like that don’t happen to women like me. I make my own luck and my own future.”

  Considering her past, Randi was happy with her life, even though she was still grieving for Joan. She had a good education, a good job, and friends who meant everything to her. If she was lonely sometimes now that her foster mother was gone, she’d get through it. Her earlier childhood had taught her that life was tough, and wishes didn’t often become reality. Dennis and Joan coming into her life had been her miracle, if there was any such thing. She didn’t need any more than what they’d given her: a home for a homeless girl with no hope for the future.

  Randi tried not to remember that Beatrice had predicted that Dennis and Joan would still have a child, even after all hope of Joan getting pregnant was long gone. Before her foster parents had left on vacation to California, Beatrice had reminded them of her prediction, saying her spirit guides had told her that they’d find their daughter while they were on their Southern California sightseeing tour.

  Joan had been a firm believer in Beatrice’s gift of premonitions. Being a realist, Randi had always been on the fence.

  “Beatrice runs about fifty-fifty on her predictions,” Randi whispered to herself. “She was right about Jared and Mara, so she’s due to be wrong about mine.”

  Chastising herself for standing in the brutal weather contemplating a silly rock, Randi hurried into Brew Magic, determined not to regret the fact that she’d had to cut her conversation short with her pen pal because of her prior engagement.

  She tried not to think about what S. was doing right at the moment as she searched the crowded coffee shop for Liam.

  CHAPTER 3

  Evan waited impatiently for his turn at the coffee shop in Amesport, having stood in line for almost ten minutes before arriving at the front of the queue. He wasn’t used to standing in line, and his turn was usually immediate. He was wasting time, and that annoyed him. He didn’t squander time that he could be using for work, and he didn’t spend any evenings so distracted that he stopped the dictation he’d been doing on an important financial report to find a diversion.

  He’d ended up driving himself to Brew Magic for a nonfat mocha coffee with no whipped cream, a beverage he’d come to tolerate after Jared kept dragging him into the coffee shop to get his fix. If Jared was here, he wouldn’t be sparing the whipped cream or the fat. Evan’s younger brother liked his coffee with every available evil known to man, usually accompanied by several of the calorie-, sugar-, and fat-laden pastries that Evan could now see gracing the shelves of the racks behind the glass.

  “Can I help you, sir?” A friendly teenager stepped up to assist him as Evan became the next person to place his order.

  He quickly told the smiling girl what he wanted, feeling uncomfortable in the cramped, busy space. People were vying for tables to sit and sip coffee, probably to get out of the frigid temperatures outside. People milled around him as he waited for his coffee to be blended.

  What am I doing here?

  Unfortunately, Evan knew exactly why he was there. After finding out that even his pen pal had a date, he’d been restless. For some unknown reason, he’d been annoyed that she was actually going out on a date. He hadn’t been teasing when he’d told her he was jealous. He was envious of the man she was out with tonight. Somehow, he’d become addicted to her words on the screen, and he wanted to know what she was doing. Was she having a good time? Was the guy she was seeing a decent sort of man?

  Christ! This is ridiculous. I don’t even know her, and I’m worrying about her.

  The problem was, she’d become a friend to him, and Evan Sinclair didn’t have very many friends. He had people who catered to him, told him what he wanted to hear. But those people didn’t like him; they liked his money and power. He had acquaintances with the same status he had, but all of them were too busy to actually strike up a real friendship. They were connected by business, and business was a priority for all of them.

  I like her. And she likes me as a person. She has no idea who I really am.

  Just the fact that his mystery writer liked him as a person without knowing his identity was a novelty, and it made him covet her attention. Okay. Yes. He was greedy and selfish, but it was the first time he’d wanted something just for himself.

  I should have told her that I wanted to meet her.

  He’d had the chance when he’d admitted he was in Maine, but then he’d have to tell her that he was in the same town she lived in, thus having to reveal his identity. If he didn’t, she’d think he was some kind of crazy stalker. Why would an employee of the Sinclair Fund be in Amesport? It would be way too much of a coincidence that he just happened to have family in this town. She might be alarmed, afraid of him.

  Grimacing at the thought of his email friend being fearful of him, he picked up his coffee at the pickup window and carefully made his way through the crowd and out of the shop. He was going to get into his black BMW, which he’d bought to keep at his Amesport house, and he was going to get back to work. He could have called Stokes to drive him into town, but the elderly man had already gotten himself settled into Evan’s guesthouse. He didn’t want to disturb his driver after he’d probably already gone to bed. Stokes might seem invincible and unflappable, but he wasn’t a young man anymore. Evan had found the keys to the vehicle he’d never used before and had driven himself.

  Every Sinclair home on the Peninsula had a guest home, but some were bigger than others. Evan’s was relatively small. Maybe Jared had rightly guessed that Evan would never have friends visiting here. That was a depressing thought.

  “Dammit!” The curse was followed by a collision with Evan’s back that nearly took him to the ground on the slick sidewalk. He quickly regained his footing, and then swung around to see a guilty-looking Randi Tyler right in front of him.

  Evan’s cock hardened instantly, and his entire body tensed, a reaction he had anytime he saw Randi—an automatic, carnal response that completely annoyed him at the moment.

  He glared at her as she informed him contritely, “I spilled most of my coffee on the back of your coat. I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t speak as he observed her flushed cheeks and her breathless state. Her dark hair was loosely held to the back of her head by a hair clip that Evan was secretly itching to remove. Even though she had apologized, there was no fear in her beautiful hazel eyes as she met his pointed stare directly. She looked sorry, but she wasn’t afraid of him like most people usually were. She never had been.

  “It’s one of my favorite coats,” he muttered huskily, not knowing what else to say. It was indeed one of his favorites, but it didn’t matter if it was stained. He had another one just like it in his closet.