Chapter 2
Randi
Randi Matsen had promised herself repeatedly and with the stubborn determination that had carried her through far colder places than Florida that this new chapter of her life would be calm, sensible, and entirely free of complicated men who could derail the careful balance she was trying to build.
Which was precisely why the man standing twenty feet away near the fountain was such a problem.
She pretended to study the clipboard in her hands and nodded along to something her coworker, Marissa, was saying about updated event calendars, but her focus had long since drifted somewhere far less professional.
Every few seconds her gaze betrayed her and flickered back toward the tall man who had wandered into the area and was now watching the park’s crew dismantling the ribbon cutting area as he mingled with the stragglers.
He looked like a tourist, which made his intense attention to the activities even stranger. If he were there to have fun, he wouldn’t be so interested in boring details outside of the fun zone.
He stood out like a sore thumb. While most of the corporate people attending the ribbon-cutting were dressed in suits or at least something business-casual, this guy looked like he had just wandered over from the beach.
From his T-shirt and faded board shorts, he looked completely relaxed and totally out of place.
And yet somehow everyone he spoke to seemed to take him seriously.
Randi assumed he was probably someone’s friend or maybe a consultant tagging along for the event. Still, her eyes kept drifting back to him, which was annoying.
The man was tall enough to stand out easily in the crowd, broad-shouldered with hair that was tousled like he’d run his hands through it one too many times. When he turned his head, the light caught the startling blue of his eyes.
Not the soft blue of a summer sky. They were much sharper than that. And colder, like ice. They were the kind of eyes that made people look twice.
The kind that made her stomach do a strange little flip every time they landed in her direction.
She shifted her weight and adjusted the sleeve of her company shirt as a breeze stirred across the lawn. The bright sun caught the dragon tattoo on the inside of her wrist, a design she had gotten in Stagholt while attending her sister’s wedding in the Iskara Northlands.
She twisted her arm to hide it but not because she regretted it. Explaining the story behind it usually led to questions she didn’t feel like answering. The Northlands were… complicated.
And she was trying very hard not to think about them too much these days. She wanted to be her own person on her own two feet, not riding her sister’s coattales
“Randi?”
She blinked. Marissa was looking at her expectantly.
“Sorry,” Randi said quickly, straightening the stack of paperwork in her hands. “What was that?”
“I said the transition team wants the media flyers from their special events for the last three quarters, but not until Monday.” Marissa repeated, amused. “You okay? You look a little… distracted.”
“I’m fine,” Randi said, perhaps a bit too quickly.
Marissa’s mouth twitched.
Randi followed her gaze before she could stop herself. The tall stranger had moved closer while they were talking. Much closer.
He now stood only a few feet away, listening to one of the park managers with that same quiet, unreadable expression. Despite the casual clothes, there was something tightly controlled about the way he carried himself, like a man used to being in charge even when he wasn’t saying anything.
And then, as if he felt her looking, he glanced over. The impact was immediate and deeply inconvenient.
Heat flared along her skin in a way that made absolutely no sense whatsoever. It started somewhere near the base of her neck and spread downward in a warm rush that sent her thoughts scattering like startled birds.
It was ridiculous. He wasn’t even touching her. Hell, he was just standing nearby.
And yet every time he drifted within arm’s reach, her body reacted like someone had quietly turned up the temperature in the entire park.
Her pulse jumped.
Her stomach flipped again.
And her brain, which was normally very competent during work hours, suddenly filled with thoughts that were wildly inappropriate for a professional setting.
Randi forced her gaze back to the clipboard and tried to give herself a mental kick. This was not happening. Not today. Not at her brand-new job.
Because she had worked far too hard to get here.
Not long ago she had been standing on the cliffs of the Silver Snow Mountains in Stagholt watching her sister’s wedding banners snap against a gray sky, trying to convince herself that the complicated knot of emotions in her chest was actually happiness and not the quiet ache of realizing that Stagholt, the place that had quickly become home, no longer needed her in quite the same way.
Her sister had a husband now, a new life. A future that deserved room to grow without Randi hovering nearby like an overprotective shadow.
So she had made a decision.
She packed her things, said her goodbyes, and boarded the first flight south with a determination to start over somewhere warm, somewhere new, somewhere that didn’t carry memories around every corner.
Florida had seemed like a good place for that.
And this job, her first real position since leaving the Northlands, was supposed to be the beginning of that fresh start. Which meant she absolutely could not afford to get distracted by a mysterious, irritatingly handsome stranger who looked like trouble wrapped in beachwear.
Across the plaza, the park manager finished talking and stepped away. The man in the T-shirt turned slightly and walked straight toward them.
His gaze landed on her again. For a moment his eyes lingered, sharp and assessing. Then his attention shifted to the clipboard in her hands.
“You’re blocking the walkway,” he said.
The words were calm and flat. They weren’t rude exactly, but they weren’t particularly friendly either. Randi slowly lowered the clipboard. She wasn’t one to put up with obnoxious people, especially at a place meant for enjoyment.
“Good morning to you too,” she replied with a fair amount of snarky attitude of her own.
One eyebrow lifted on his handsome face as Marissa made a faint choking sound beside her. Randi ignored it and stepped half an inch to the side with exaggerated politeness.
“There, your Highness,” she said sweetly. “Walkway unblocked. Crisis averted.”
His startled expression surprised even her, and for a moment, she thought he was going to run away.
She met his start and swore she read panic in his eyes.
Something about the look made her want to interrogate him and find out what was inside his head.
He seemed to have that whole quiet, brooding thing going on, but something in her words had spooked him.
She couldn’t deny that she was slightly fascinated.
“You think I’m royalty?” His question seemed tense.
Randi giggled. “I call em like I see em.” Was that really what had bothered him? Interesting.
Marissa cleared her throat. “Morning, Chance.”
The man glanced at her and gave a brief nod.
“You know him?” Randi blinked. “Chance, huh?” she said and tilted her head as she looked him over again. He didn’t answer immediately, which only encouraged her.
“That’s a bold name,” she continued lightly. “You know you’ve got the same name as the CEO, right?”
Marissa made a strangled noise and went into a coughing fit. Randi ignored her completely.
“Imagine the confusion,” she went on cheerfully. “Someone shouting ‘Chance!’ at a company meeting and half the room turning around.”
Marissa snorted and Randi shot her a puzzled look. “What?”
But Marissa was suddenly very interested in studying the pavement. Randi turned back to the man.
“You might want to start going by something else,” she added. “Chuck, maybe. Charlie. Saves everyone the awkward moment.”
For a brief second something flickered across his face. It was amusement. Fast and sharp, but gone almost immediately.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he said calmly and stepped past them.
“Oh, excuse you,” Randi muttered under her breath.
He paused. Just long enough to glance back at her again. Those glacier-blue eyes held something different this time. Definitely amusement now.
Then he turned and walked away.
Randi watched him go before shaking her head.
“Well,” she said, “Chance-from-the-beach seems delightful.”
Marissa pressed her lips together, clearly fighting laughter again.
Randi squinted at her. “You okay?”
Marissa coughed into her hand. “Perfectly fine. I’m just going to let you dig your own holes.”
“Pfft. He’s not worth getting out the shovel.” Randi glanced back toward the man disappearing into the crowd. “It’s just kind of funny he has the same name as the CEO.”
Marissa made another suspicious choking sound. Randi frowned at her.
“What is wrong with you?” she asked.
But Marissa just shook her head, still laughing quietly to herself, while across the way the man called Chance paused for a brief moment before continuing toward the stage.
Randi headed toward her car. The time for work had ended, and now she had another adventure in mind that had nothing to do with a water slide.