CHAPTER 12
The storm lost strength later that night, and Randi headed home the next morning, after Dante had called to let her know the power was back on at her house.
Restless even after his workout, Evan had headed over to Grady’s house on foot, needing an outlet for his troubled state of mind.
“I don’t know what I did wrong,” he told his brothers as they all sat around Grady’s table with a mug of coffee in front of each of them. He’d decided to confess everything about his relationship with Randi, hoping they could help. He’d risk all of them making jokes if he could get some information on the way a woman’s mind worked. There was nothing he wanted more than to make Randi happy.
“Talk to her?” Grady suggested. “I’m beginning to learn that gifts don’t really work with women when they’re angry.”
“He needs to figure out what he did wrong first,” Jared observed, frowning as he tried to figure out the problem.
“What exactly did you say to her that pissed her off?” Dante asked curiously.
Evan looked around the table, and every one of his brothers’ expressions was humorless. They were actually trying to be helpful . . . which surprised the hell out of him.
He’d been a little taken aback when all of his brothers had turned up at Grady’s house soon after he arrived. Dante was dressed for work, but said he had time to kill before leaving since he’d worked straight through the crisis of the blizzard. Jared gave no real excuse for why he had wandered over.
Evan was willing to bet that Grady had called and asked his brothers to drop over because he was here, but he had no idea why.
But all of them seemed ready to give advice, so he didn’t give a damn why they were all here.
“I don’t even know what kind of flowers she likes, and I don’t know what I did wrong. She just . . . changed.” He’d thought about sending her flowers, and it annoyed him that he didn’t know her favorites.
“What happened before she transformed?” Grady asked solemnly.
“We had incredible sex without a condom,” Evan admitted reluctantly, hating to share anything personal between him and Randi with anyone. But he was desperate.
“And then what?” Dante queried after taking a slug of his coffee.
“I told her I was relieved that she was on the pill and wouldn’t get pregnant.” It was a normal response as far as Evan was concerned.
“No way!”
“Holy shit!”
Dante chimed in, “You might as well have told her you just wanted to get laid.”
“Well, I did . . . kind of,” Evan replied, squirming in his chair uncomfortably. “But only because I really like her and I’m attracted to her. But I don’t ever want to have a child.”
“Why?” Jared asked quietly. “Because of your disability?”
Evan’s head shot up, his expression anxious. “Hope told you.” He had no doubt where their enlightenment came from.
“She told us everything. You could have told us, Evan. Damn, I took enough crap from the old man. He must have made your life a living hell,” Grady grumbled.
They had no idea just how bad it had been, and Evan wasn’t going to apprise them of the details. “I lived. But the problem does seem to be hereditary.”
“Your kid won’t have our father,” Dante reminded him. “He or she would have you.” He hesitated before adding, “Randi loves kids. Maybe she doesn’t want to have some of her own now, but hearing how relieved you were could have been mistaken for a lack of interest in anything other than sex. Did you explain?”
Evan shook his head slowly, contrite that he might have inadvertently given Randi the idea that she wouldn’t have been a fit mother for any child he fathered. She’d completely misunderstood if that was the case. In reality, he was terrified of fathering a child with any woman, and he didn’t want to talk about it. Trying to change the subject, he asked, “Any advice on what I can do to make her understand?”
“Grovel?” Jared suggested.
“Talk to her. Tell her the truth about everything,” Grady remarked.
“Make her realize that you care about more than just getting laid,” Dante replied sensibly. “You do care about her, right?”
Evan looked at Dante and nodded slowly. There was no reason to deny it anymore. Just thinking about the fact that he had obviously hurt Randi with his comments made his gut ache so much that he reached into his pocket and popped a few of his ever-ready antacids. He was getting to the point where he didn’t go anywhere without them.
Yes, he’d wanted to fuck her, but there was far more to how he felt about her than just that. Emotions were tangled with his desire, and she hadn’t understood his obvious distaste at the idea of fathering a child.
She didn’t understand that it wasn’t her; it was him.
Dante added, “Because if you aren’t serious about her, a couple of the detectives have been asking about her. Every single guy at the station thinks she’s hot.”
Evan saw red and slammed his fist down on the table. “She’s mine. Tell them to back the fuck off or I’ll crush every one of them, officer of the law or not.”
He flew completely off his rocker at the thought of Randi being with anyone but him, and his fury blinded him to the fact that he never lost his temper completely. Not that he would have given a damn even if he was rational enough to think about it.
His brothers just grinned.
“Did you see Elsie’s article in the paper today, dear?”
Randi had popped into Natural Elements to see how Beatrice had weathered the blizzard. Obviously, she was doing fine. The elderly woman’s enthusiasm was infectious.
“She’s got an article out today?” Randi asked curiously as she looked at the eclectic collection of items for sale in the store. “I’m surprised, since the snow just stopped last night.”
Beatrice’s head bobbed excitedly. “Yep. She titled it ‘Blockbuster Movie Star Coming to Amesport.’”
Randi laughed as she listened to the drama in Beatrice’s voice as she relayed the title of Elsie’s article.
“He’s single,” she reminded the self-proclaimed matchmaker with a wink. Julian Sinclair coming to Amesport really was a big deal because he’d become a box-office sensation, but Randi supposed his family was trying to keep his presence as quiet as possible. Elsie Renfrew—or Elsie the Informer, as most of them called her when she wasn’t present—was Beatrice’s bosom buddy, and still wrote for the Amesport newspaper. Randi wasn’t sure how either one of them had known about the Sinclair cousins coming into Amesport, but somehow they had. No doubt they had finagled the information from one of the family. Beatrice and Elsie might look like two sweet little old ladies, but they were merciless when it came to getting the scoop on town gossip. Randi had known them both long enough to ignore their seemingly innocent probing questions.
“I know, dear, but he won’t be single for long,” Beatrice told her confidently. “His destiny is here.”
Randi fingered the Apache tear in her pocket, thinking how wrong Beatrice had been in her prediction for her. The only man Randi really wanted was totally unavailable to a woman like her. Her anger with Evan was already diminishing. What had she expected? Had she wanted him to tell her that it didn’t matter if she got pregnant? That wouldn’t have been logical or reasonable. In truth, she didn’t want to be a single mother, but she did want children someday.
She had gone into the sexual relationship knowing nothing more could ever happen with Evan. It was her that wanted something more; not him. She really had no right to expect any other reaction than one of relief. Randi knew she should feel the same way. Oddly, she didn’t.
“You think he doesn’t care about you?” Beatrice asked as she ran a feather duster over the shelves.
“I know he doesn’t,” Randi agreed, leaning back against the counter of the store.
“You’re wrong,” Beatrice chirped. “He hides a lot, but the truth will come out eventually.”
“He’s not for me, Beatrice.”
“This isn’t one of my errors. My spirit guides seem to be strong with the Sinclairs,” Beatrice said firmly.
Randi smiled. She wasn’t about to break the news that she thought Beatrice’s spirit guides had dementia.
“I have to run,” she told her warmly. “Lily is in the car.”
She hadn’t been home, so she was still carrying her dog around with her.
Beatrice turned and speared Randi with a pointed look. “Don’t give up. He’s worth the wait. He was always going to be a tough nut to crack.”
Randi nodded even though she wasn’t a believer in Beatrice’s predictions. At least not this one. “What about the cousins?” she asked, wondering what Beatrice was likely to predict for them.
“They all belong here, and I’ve already had dreams about the first one.”
Poor guys. The Sinclair cousins have no idea what’s coming.
She highly doubted any of the cousins were going to move to Amesport. Micah was into extreme sports, Julian’s place was in Hollywood, and Xander the bad boy had to be out painting a big city red to remain happy. Not a single one of them belonged here.
“Take care of yourself, Beatrice,” Randi said fondly as she reached for the door.
“You too, honey, and remember what I said. You two were meant to be.”
Shoving the door open, Randi called back, “Thanks, Beatrice.”
Once outside, Randi sprinted to her vehicle with a shake of her head. Poor Beatrice was destined for failure on this prediction. She just didn’t know it yet.
Later that afternoon, Randi had a tutoring session at the Center. School would start up again tomorrow, but she’d committed to an appointment, and she was glad Matt’s mother hadn’t canceled.
She’d been working with him on his reading, one of the third grader’s problem areas.
“It doesn’t make sense,” the child complained, frustrated as he tried to read a passage in a storybook.
“It will,” Randi encouraged. “You just have to keep trying. Sound the word out,” she told him with a patient smile. “You’ll get it.”
Matt was smart, but unfortunately he needed more one-on-one time, something that she wasn’t able to give him in class. She’d asked his parents to start sending him to her free tutoring sessions at the Center, and she made sure to carve out an afternoon where she could work with him alone.
Catching a brief movement out of the corner of her eye, Randi turned her head to see Evan watching her and Matt as they struggled through the book. His shoulder was comfortably propped against the doorframe, so he’d obviously been there for a while.
He was dressed in a power suit again, and his expression was darkly brooding. Putting his hands into the pockets of his wool coat, he strolled into the room as he spoke. “It will take him at least four times as long for word recognition. What he sees isn’t the same as what other kids see. His brain is wired differently. Sometimes he won’t be able to connect a word with an object or a meaning. Sarcasm might be hard to understand sometimes, and he might have problems finding the right words to say. Joking around might be something he can’t always grasp, so he might be uncomfortable with it sometimes. But he can be just as accomplished as any other child.”
Randi stared at Evan, dumbfounded at his words before the lightbulb went off in her head. There had been subtle signs: his need for extreme organization and rigid routine, him asking her to dial her own phone number instead of doing it himself, his quirk of sometimes taking things seriously that were actually teasing, and his drive and determination to succeed when he was already more accomplished than most men in the world.
Evan had way overcompensated for his disability.
“You’re dyslexic?” It was almost an unnecessary question. After Evan had stated accurate facts and she’d pieced things together, she was certain of her conclusion.
He nodded slowly, never taking his turbulent eyes away from her face. “I am.” He nodded his head toward Matt as he asked, “Did you know he is, too?”
She swallowed hard before answering. “Yes. I have a master’s degree in education with a certification to teach children with learning disabilities.”
Matt was looking up at Evan, his eyes wide. “You have the problems I have?” he asked curiously.
Evan sat next to Matt at the table, both of them seated across from Randi now.
“I do,” he told the child honestly. “We’re different, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be successful. Lots of famous people are dyslexic.”
“I know,” Matt chattered enthusiastically. “Randi told me. But it gets hard to read, and sometimes I get my numbers mixed up.”
Evan nodded solemnly. “Your brain will figure it out in a different way. Just remember you’re special and not stupid. You have ways of figuring things out that nobody else can.”
Randi’s hands were shaking as she closed the book they’d been reading and listened to the honest conversation Evan was having with Matt. It was hard to fathom that Evan had dyslexia, but after thinking about it for a moment as he chatted with Matt, it made sense.
He’d tried to make up for his weaknesses by riding hard on his strengths. He was anal at times because everything had to be perfectly organized for him to function optimally. Sometimes he really didn’t understand when someone was teasing, so he said nothing at all. He’d probably never ignored her on purpose. Hadn’t he mentioned that he didn’t know what to say? So he hadn’t said anything. If he’d never had much of a chance to be around people who joked around, it was natural that he still might not always be completely comfortable with someone who teased him.
Every child with dyslexia had their own path to success and learning. She was willing to bet Evan’s road had been long and hard, with his background of abuse. But he’d still made it, still achieved a level of success that most people could only dream about.
Yes, he’d been born wealthy, but his partnerships in megasuccessful businesses almost from their inception had made him even richer.
“Mom’s here,” Matt exclaimed happily, shaking Randi out of her own thoughts.
Randi saw Matt’s mom standing near the door with her son’s jacket in her hand. Luckily, his mother was a caring parent who understood Matt’s disability.
“Go,” Evan told Matt as he clapped the child gently on the back. “And remember what I said.”
Randi was sad that she’d missed part of the conversation because she had been lost in thought.
Matt nodded at Evan with a cheerful smile and an expression of hero worship on his face. Randi watched her pupil leave, and turned to Evan, uncertain what to say.
Finally she found her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged. “I don’t tell anyone.”
“Why?”
“I know I’m not stupid, lazy, or slow, so why should it matter to anyone else?” Evan remarked, raising a questioning eyebrow at her.
“Is that what your father thought? He thought you were lazy and slow. Is that why he beat you?” Randi clenched her fists on the table, hoping to God he’d deny her suspicions.
He didn’t.
“Yes. That’s how it started,” Evan explained, looking away from her probing eyes. “I was expected to excel in school. I was the Sinclair heir apparent. Anything else was unthinkable to him. I wasn’t supposed to have defects.” Evan released a long breath. “I was my father’s greatest disappointment. I was slow to read and I had a problem with numbers, an inconceivable problem for a Sinclair. Sometimes I still do mix up numbers. I need my staff to make sure what’s in my head is on paper properly. I dictate reports a lot so they can be properly put on paper to avoid mistakes.”
The way he hid his disability when he should be proud of all he’d accomplished tugged at Randi’s heart. She rose and moved around the table, hefting herself up to sit on the table right next to his chair. “How did you learn?” He still wasn’t looking at her, and she wanted to weep for the boy he once was. Evan was brilliant, but he’d been made to feel less than smart by an insensitive idiot.
“After my father discovered that beating me senseless wasn’t going to miraculously make me smarter, he got me a tutor. The teacher was a bastard, but it worked. Repetition and phonics helped; memorizing the words that connected to a tangible object or person was easier. Bigger concepts came later. I worked with a tutor every night of the week and on the weekends when I wasn’t in school.”
“You’re amazing. You know that, right?” Randi reached out her hand and turned his head toward her.
“Not really. It was the way I was wired. I had to deal with it.”
Evan was so nonchalant that her heart melted. It had hurt, and it had hurt badly when he was a child. Obviously, it had made him all the more determined to find a way to conquer his problems, and he had. Dyslexia was never cured, but he’d found his own way to understand.
She’d studied examples of how children with dyslexia saw written words or books, and how best to conquer the problems. It had opened her eyes to children with learning disabilities and made her want to be able to teach them to cope. Plenty of famous people were dyslexic, including some of the brightest and most creative minds in history.
“I disagree,” she commented, trying to get him to look at her by keeping her palm on his face.
“So you teach children with learning disabilities?” he asked huskily, obviously trying to change the subject.
Randi shook her head. “No. I teach a regular class of third graders. I volunteer here for special needs. Amesport doesn’t have an organized program for gifted or special-needs students.”
“So you’re overqualified?”
“Not really. I just can’t use all of my skills in my current position. I don’t mind volunteering here.” Usually it was the best part of her day. “It makes me happy. Do you know what it’s like to be happy, Evan?”
Randi wondered if he’d ever been able to step out of his comfort zone in the past. He considered himself a caretaker of his siblings, responsible for their happiness. But what about him? He had a brilliant mind that functioned uniquely, and he’d compensated by being solemn and ultra-organized. Okay . . . he was majorly anal, but he had a reason to be. His learning disability didn’t explain his arrogance, but Randi figured that was all Evan. He’d gained confidence over the years, and he wasn’t shy about sharing his lack of insecurity about his intelligence.
He got to his feet and finally looked at her, his nostrils flaring and his eyes flashing blue fire. “I think I do understand happiness. Maybe I didn’t last week or last year, but I think I’m beginning to get the concept now.”
Randi drew the hand she had on his face to his shoulder and met his intense gaze. “Why now?”
“Because I think I’m happy when I’m with you and watching you come,” he growled, his hand moving at lightning speed to grip the back of her neck, so he could lower his mouth to hers.