Maybe the sexual part of their relationship had developed too quickly, but Evan couldn’t regret the most earth-shattering night of his life even if he tried—and he didn’t want to. He and Randi had been circling around each other with sparks flying since the first time they’d met. Honestly, he’d thought that maybe once they’d fucked each other senseless, the gut ache he had every time he saw her would go away.
It hadn’t.
Now he was pretty sure he had a full-blown ulcer eating away at his stomach every time he looked at her.
Opening his desk drawer, he pulled out a roll of antacids and popped several of them into his mouth. The way he’d been popping the chewable pills since he’d found out he was going to have to see Randi again, he really needed to think about buying stock in the company.
“She’s so damn beautiful,” he shared with Lily quietly as he swallowed the chalky substance that he hoped would take away the burning ache in his chest and his gut.
Snapping out of his fixation with Randi long enough to shut down his computer, Evan decided he wasn’t going to be able to work. He was too damn distracted. He’d go check out the weather and see if Randi was awake. It was getting to be late afternoon and she still hadn’t eaten anything.
He stood and brushed down the soft denim of the jeans he was wearing. Really, the casual clothes that Hope had bought for him after they’d visited the supermarket weren’t all that bad. In fact, he was pretty comfortable. The sweater was warm, and it was nice not to have a shirt and tie around his neck. Granted, it felt strange, but not altogether unwelcome. The only time he hated the jeans was when his dick got hard, which was almost every time he saw or thought about Randi. The material had very little give, and for a man his size, an erection was highly uncomfortable pressing against the unforgiving fabric.
Hope had taken him shopping after they’d bought groceries, telling him he needed to loosen up and try to make himself more approachable with some casual clothing. He was willing to do just about anything to get Randi to communicate better with him, even if it meant giving up his usual attire. The items weren’t as well made as his usual clothing, but if it meant getting Randi to notice him as something other than an asshole, he’d wear them.
He was just opening the office door when he heard an audible scream from upstairs.
Miranda!
A cold chill raced down his spine, and he sprinted up the steps like an Olympic champion, his heart racing as he imagined someone hurting her . . . or worse.
He came to an awkward, abrupt stop as he saw that she was still sleeping on the couch, but her body was flailing restlessly on the leather.
“I’m not a whore. I’m not a whore,” she kept repeating in a muffled voice. “No. Please. I can’t.”
She was whimpering now, and the sound of her distress tore straight through Evan’s heart. She was dreaming, but what in the hell was her nightmare about?
As if she’d experienced her mistress’s bad dreams before, Lily approached Randi cautiously and started to lick her face.
“Nooooooo!” The tortured sound that escaped from Randi’s lips was a combination of a scream and a plea.
Evan sucked breath into his lungs painfully as he moved forward just as Lily launched herself onto Randi’s legs and her mistress sat up, panting. “Oh, God. Oh, God. Not again.”
Evan waited for her to notice him, afraid of frightening her. She clutched her dog to her chest and fisted Lily’s silky fur as she rested her forehead on top of the retriever’s body.
“Lily,” she said in a still-panicked, breathless voice, letting go of her death grip on her dog as she apparently recognized that she’d been dreaming.
Finally, he spoke quietly. “Are you okay?”
Randi continued stroking her dog absently as though it comforted her.
“Yes.” Randi’s voice sounded tremulous and anything but fine.
Unable to contain his fear, concern, and relentless desire to comfort her for another moment, Evan gently pulled the dog back to the floor and picked Randi up so he could sit and let her sprawl on his lap. Automatically, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and Evan rested her head on his shoulder while he stroked her silky, dark hair.
“What happened?” he asked soothingly. “I could hear you screaming from downstairs.”
“Nightmare,” she murmured into his sweater. “I’m sorry I disturbed you. I used to have them as a teenager, but I thought they were gone. I hadn’t had one in years until Joan died. This is the second time it’s happened since. I think maybe they were triggered because I’m alone again.”
She’s not alone. She has me.