Chapter 13
Chance
The storm moved across the city in typical Florida fashion.
On the top floor, Chance could hear the wind buffeting against the windows as the skies grew dark hours before they should have.
The thunder grew louder and closer until one clap was so violent that it shook the building.
Lightning followed close behind just before the rain came down in sudden, relentless sheets that blurred the edges of the world outside Chance’s floor-to-ceiling windows.
The supercharged power of the storms always made him restless. He paced his apartment until he thought he’d go stir crazy. It was too late for anyone to still be in the office and too early for bed.
Chance grabbed his phone to make a call that he had put off. Maybe the storm would hide some of his guilt for delving into Randi’s life behind her back. But that tattoo. He needed to know.
He stared at the number on his phone and his thumb hovered just above the screen as if the extra second might somehow change the kind of man he was about to be.
It was something that felt a hell of a lot like betrayal, but if he didn’t find out her story, it might change his life anyhow.
Her anger would be better than his world blowing up in his face.
If she had anything to do with his father, he needed to know.
He exhaled through his nose and hit the speed dial number.
The line rang and each hollow tone stretched thin against his patience.
He had a tight coil of unease sitting low in his gut, the kind that didn’t ease no matter how many times he told himself this was just precaution or he was just being smart by making sure he wasn’t about to get blindsided by something he should’ve seen coming.
Another ring. His jaw flexed.
By the third, he was already regretting the whole decision because the truth was, it hadn’t felt right even when he’d hired the guy and talked about Randi like she was a problem to be solved instead of a person who laughed with her whole body and looked at him like she actually saw him.
The line clicked as it answered. Chance straightened slightly and his pulse kicked up.
Voicemail spoke to him. A bland, automated voice filled his ear and asked him to leave a message after the tone. Something in his chest snapped tight and irritation flared hot. He didn’t leave a message.
Instead, he pulled the phone away from his ear and ended the call. He stared at the darkened screen for half a second before a surge of frustration surged up his arm and he slammed the phone down onto the table. The sound cracked through the quiet room like the lightning outside.
“Damn it,” he muttered and dragged a hand over his face.
Randi had lied to him about why she had the dragon on her wrist. He held on to that one little detail. Other than that, she hadn’t given him any real reason to doubt her, but somehow, that one little thing had been enough for him to justify digging.
He let out a rough breath and paced across the room again. This wasn’t about her, not really. It was about him not liking what he didn’t know. He glanced back at the phone.
It sat there, silent now, harmless, like it hadn’t just exposed something in him he didn’t particularly want to see.
“I’m an idiot,” he muttered.
And the worst part was, even as the guilt settled in, heavy and deserved, that question still lingered. What did that tattoo mean?
There was also the bigger question. What had that kiss meant? He could still feel her lips, no matter how hard he tried to forget. The way she had melted into him instead of pushing him away. The way she would make love to him given the chance.
His jaw tightened again, because he wanted to know, but she was the one thing he couldn’t have.
He paced once more and then headed for the door. He needed to go downstairs and find something to do. There had to be some contract that needed updating or some plans that needed to be tweaked. He was going to drive himself crazy in his apartment.
The office was quiet where the usual hum of activity had faded into silence punctuated only by the distant roll of thunder and the occasional flicker of overhead lights responding to the strain of the storm.
He expected emptiness but instead was greeted with a light in one of the far offices. He started to turn around when he realized it was Randi’s office. Instead, he walked to where he could see in her open door.
She sat at her desk with papers spread out in careful disarray, her focus so intent she didn’t notice him at first. The lamp cast a warm glow over her workspace that stood in quiet defiance of the storm raging just beyond the walls.
For a moment, he said nothing and just watched. Something in his chest tightened in a way that had nothing to do with the weather.
“You know,” he said finally, “most people go home when a storm like this hits.”
She almost jumped out of her chair as her head snapped up. Her eyes widened from the fright for a fraction of a second before recognition settled in, soon followed by something more guarded.
“Most people don’t have their work picked apart in front of an entire team,” she replied, her tone even but edged just enough to remind him that some things didn’t reset just because the day had ended.
He absorbed that without flinching, though it landed exactly where she intended.
“So this is what,” he said and stepped further into the room. His gaze flicked briefly over the spread of notes and revisions. “Damage control?”
“This is making sure it doesn’t happen again,” she corrected and leaned back slightly in her chair. “Apparently my work isn’t good enough on the first pass.”
The words were light but the meaning wasn’t.
“And if I do this at home, there are distractions. Here, it’s just easier. Plus,” she gestured toward the window where rain lashed against the glass in erratic bursts, “I figured I’d wait out the storm.”
As if on cue, the lights flickered and then went out completely.
“Great. Just what I needed.”
Chance backed toward the door. “Come on out here. The emergency lights are on so it isn’t as dark.”
She had already risen from her chair and moved toward him. Just as she was about to push past him, a huge boom of thunder exploded and a massive bolt of lightning cracked right outside her window.
She shrieked and threw herself toward the door, but Chance had moved just enough that she went straight into his arms. He felt her tremble and wrapped his arms around her.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He was playing with fire much more dangerous than Mother Nature’s display.
She looked up at him. Even in the dim light from the exit lights, he could see into her eyes. The space between them narrowed to something charged and fragile, the kind of proximity that made every small detail suddenly impossible to ignore.
And there it was again, that pull that was stronger now and less deniable.
It coiled low and steady, something instinctive and undeniable that had nothing to do with logic and everything to do with the way she looked at him in that moment, not guarded or distant, but open in a way that made his control slip.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Without a sound, she closed the last inch of space between them with a quiet certainty that made something in his chest tighten sharply in response.
Mine.
The word rose again, louder now, threaded with something possessive and unrelenting, his dragon pressing closer to the surface with a dangerous kind of approval that only made the moment more volatile.
Their lips met, and this time the kiss was soft and tender. One of her hands reached up and cupped his face as her mouth lingered on his.
His hand tightened slightly at her shoulders. He didn’t pull her closer, but he didn’t stop her either. It took every ounce of strength he had not to deepen the kiss.
Instead, he pulled back. The shift was immediate as the space between them returned all at once and left behind the sharp, undeniable absence of what had just happened.
Randi stilled and he saw that flicker of hurt again.
“You deserve someone better than me,” he said quietly. The words were low and rougher than he intended, but they were the closest thing to honesty he could allow himself.
Her gaze searched his, as if looking for an explanation or anything that might make his words make sense.
He couldn’t give it because if he stayed, he would break. He stepped back and walked away. “Go home, Randi.”
The storm swallowed the sound of his footsteps as he moved down the hallway while the flicker of emergency lights cast fractured shadows in his wake. He didn’t look back when he reached the stairs.
He didn’t even allow himself even a second to reconsider. Instead, he fled while his dragon screamed in rage.