His Best Friend's Wife

by Gina Wilkins

  Maybe she wouldn’t mention the meeting to Lucy just yet. It would only upset her unnecessarily. Once the scholarship was better established, Lucy would probably be more accepting of Renae’s contact with Jason’s former friends, especially since it would be clear that it was about honoring Jason’s memory.

  Having lost her biological mother when she was very young, Renae adored her mother-in-law, who had filled that gaping void with love and nurturing and stability. Renae would do nothing willingly to jeopardize that close relationship.

  * * *

  As confident as she had been that she’d made the right decision in choosing to attend the scholarship meeting, Renae still had second—and third, fourth and fifth—thoughts as she approached Evan’s door Wednesday evening after work. She’d spent a little too much time getting ready that morning, finally settling on a cherry-red sweater and dark pants that were both professional and flattering. She carried a roomy leather tote bag that held a folder full of materials about establishing scholarships, just in case Evan and Tate were interested in what she’d learned through her research.

  After much deliberation, she had decided not to tell Lucy what she was doing this evening. This was the only day of the week when it would be possible to get away with the omission. The eye clinic was open until six on Wednesdays, an hour later than usual. Lucy picked up Leslie and Daniel from school, fed them an early dinner, then took them to church where she had Bible study and choir practice, and the twins attended kids’ Bible classes and children’s choir. They were never home until almost eight, so Renae took that evening as Mom’s night out, shopping or getting a manicure, sometimes meeting friends for dinner or a movie, other times just going home to read in rare, uninterrupted peace.

  She wondered now if she should have gone home to read tonight.

  She had announced her arrival downstairs and Evan had buzzed her in, so it was too late to cancel, though at least half a dozen times in the past few days she had reached for her phone to do just that. She had resisted the impulses only by refusing to allow herself to think about Evan and the past. She’d stayed busy with the life she’d made for herself, preparing for this appointment as she would any business meeting, and the days had flown past. Now she found herself standing in the hallway outside his apartment, not at all sure she was ready to see Evan again.

  At least Tate would be there to defuse the tension, she reminded herself firmly. While Tate had also been a friend of Jason’s, he and Renae had no personal baggage between them. If he was still as chatty and jovial as he’d been back then, there should be few uncomfortable silences. She would keep the conversation focused on the scholarship and then they would go their own ways again.

  Evan opened the door before she could even knock. “Renae. Hi, come in.”

  He smiled at her as he invited her inside, and her pulse rate fluttered crazily in response.

  So much for keeping her unwanted reactions to sexy Evan Daugherty firmly under control.

  Chapter Two

  Holding her head high and keeping her smile as relaxed as possible considering the chaos inside her, Renae stepped past Evan, looking around his home as she entered. The furnishings were tasteful—minimal, but nicely accented with plants. No surprise there, since that was Evan’s career specialty.

  “Very nice,” she said, moving to admire the panorama of the north bank of the Arkansas River and the Little Rock skyline on the other side. The swirling river water reflected the deepening blue sky and mirrored the trees splashed with fall color. The scenery brightened up the beige-on-beige decor inside Evan’s apartment.

  “I have to admit that view is why I chose this place.”

  She realized Evan had stepped next to her to admire the panaroma, standing so close that an unguarded movement would cause their arms to touch. While she did not suspect he meant anything by the proximity other than affable view-sharing, she still moved away. “Something smells good.”

  He remained where he was, keeping a respectable distance between them. “I picked up dinner on the way here. I hope you still like pizza.”

  “Doesn’t everyone?” Ignoring his implication that he remembered her fondness for pizza, she glanced toward the other end of the room. Three flat boxes sat on a dining table on the other side of a low serving bar, next to plates, napkins, flatware and a stack of papers she assumed to be scholarship materials. “Three pizzas? Just how many people are on this committee?”

  “Three,” he admitted rather sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure what toppings you like, so I got an assortment. I’ll dine on the leftovers for a few days.”

  “When it comes to pizza, I’m not picky.”

  “Can I get you something to drink while we wait for Tate? Or we could dig in and let him catch up when he gets here. I know your time is limited.”

  His cell phone buzzed before she could answer. “That’s Tate,” he said with a glance at the screen. “There are drinks in the fridge, glasses set out on the counter. Help yourself while I find out what’s keeping him.”

  She had just poured diet cola over ice when Evan joined her in the kitchen. She could tell by his expression what he was going to say even before he spoke.

  “I’m sorry, but something has come up and Tate can’t make it. Looks like it’s just you and me.”

  Renae swallowed hard and set the soda can down with a thump.

  It flashed through her mind that Lucy would surely accuse Evan of arranging this so he would have Renae alone. Renae rejected that possibility as soon as it occurred to her. Judging by Evan’s expression, he was just as dismayed as she was that they wouldn’t have Tate as a buffer.

  He must have seen the reservations in her eyes. “If you’d rather reschedule when Tate can join us...”

  She shook her head, telling herself she was being foolish. Keeping her expression schooled and her voice brisk, she picked up her glass and moved toward the table. “Since I’m here, let’s take a look at what you have. I brought some information about other private scholarship programs, if you’d be interested in seeing it.”

  He nodded cordially, matching her impersonal tone. “Yes, of course. Have a seat and help yourself to pizza, and we’ll go through the notes Tate and I have compiled so far.”

  She sank into one of the four chairs at the slate-topped, bar-height table, hoping he would sit across from her, well out of accidental touching distance. Instead, he chose the place to her right, pulling a pizza box and a stack of papers toward them.

  All too aware of how close he sat, of his elbow almost brushing hers when he moved, of the way he looked at her every time she glanced his way, she reached quickly for a file folder.

  As he had warned her, the progress thus far was somewhat haphazard. At this point, the award was only a thousand dollars, but that helped with books and supplies. Evan and Tate had paid the scholarship out of their own pockets for the one check they had awarded thus far, but they’d started an account for future donations. They’d had several modest contributions from friends and associates. Financially, the program seemed to be off to a fair start, though Evan admitted they’d had little time to initiate fundraising efforts. He’d thought about sending out a letter to their old friends from high school and college, but he wasn’t very good at composing those things, he admitted.

  “I can draft the letter,” Renae offered, making a note on the pad she’d opened beside her. She seemed to have stepped in as secretary of this informal committee, but that was fine with her. It played to her particular strengths and made her feel that she made a valuable contribution to the cause—and most of her input could be through email, she couldn’t help thinking.

  Keeping her gaze on the paperwork, she listened to Evan’s explanation of the direction he and Tate had in mind for the scholarship and offered a few suggestions of her own. He was very receptive to her ideas, making annotations of his own to share with Tate later, and she was gratified by how open he was to her input.

  The first recipient of the Jason
Sanchez Memorial Scholarship had been nineteen-year-old Stuart O’Hara, who had since become newlywed Tate’s brother-in-law. There had been no formal application—Tate had offered Stuart the scholarship on an impulse when the young man had announced that he would not be attending college because of finances and other family issues. Evan had gone along because he and Tate had been discussing the establishment of a scholarship anyway, and he figured it was time to get started.

  When Renae saw how seriously the young man was taking the honor, she felt a bit more comfortable with the nepotism of that first award. Evan had printed out three emails Stuart had sent about his academic progress that semester, each ending with a repetition of his gratitude for their assistance.

  “He has an academic scholarship paying for his tuition and a student loan to cover living expenses, but this thousand-dollar award for books and supplies seems to mean a lot to him,” Evan explained. “I think it’s because he was on the verge of not attending college at all when Tate offered him our scholarship as a sign of faith in him. He was at a point in his life when he needed to hear that, I guess. Apparently, there were some family issues holding him back. But he seems to have committed himself completely to making a success of college. That’s why he keeps emailing us about his grades, even though he’s only been in school a couple of months. Tate’s actually had to remind him to make a little time for fun.”

  “Stuart sounds like a good kid,” Renae said, glancing again at the grateful notes.

  Evan nodded. “I haven’t actually met him, but from what Tate has told me, he is.”

  She should have known better than to meet his eyes. Their gazes held, and she felt a shiver of awareness course through her. It had been too long since she’d been near an attractive man, too long since she had felt physical awareness warm her blood.

  She forced her attention back to her notes. Was she really so starved for a man’s attention? How foolish.

  Sure, she was young and there were times when she longed for a man’s touch. She’d told herself she would date again, once the twins were a little older and her schedule a bit less hectic. In the meantime, her life was almost perfect just as it was, she reminded herself firmly. She had no intention of doing anything to change that. Most especially with Evan Daugherty, who had already caused her more than enough heartache and confusion.

  To distract herself, she stayed focused on the conversation. “Okay, so I’ll start putting together an application form to send to local schools and to make available on the website you and Tate are working on. We still need to draft a more formal statement of the qualifications we’re looking for in our applicants.”

  Though Stuart attended a small, private college in Missouri, Evan and Tate had decided it would be easier to limit future awards to students in Arkansas, and Renae agreed. They would choose two recipients for next year, in addition to renewing Stuart’s award, but eventually they hoped to spread the assistance to even more young scholars. Maybe even increase the award amount to cover more than books and supplies, if they were successful with their fundraising efforts.

  “We can draft the statement and make some more decisions at our next meeting. Since all the materials are here, we might as well just keep my apartment as our meeting place. Would there be any time you could meet next week?”

  “Next week?” she asked with a little frown.

  He nodded, studying her face. “Tate should be able to join us then. He wanted to be here today, but his wife’s car wouldn’t start and she was stranded at work. Tate had to pick up their daughter at day care, then arrange to have the battery in her car replaced.”

  “They have a daughter?” Though she knew Tate was a newlywed, this was the first she had heard about a child.

  “Her name is Daryn. She’s about a year old. Tate married a single mom. He met Kim when the baby was only a couple months old, right after she went back to work after her maternity leave. They had sort of a whirlwind romance and surprised everyone with a sudden marriage. It’s pretty amusing how they got together, actually. Maybe he’ll tell you about it next week.”

  Again, Evan was making the supposition that she would meet with him again next week.

  He must have read the hesitation in her expression because he added, “Is next week too soon? I understand if you can’t arrange a sitter for the kids again so quickly. Maybe you would rather Tate and I handle this from now on and email you?”

  That was exactly what she should do. But she really didn’t want to be left out of this project now that she’d become so emotionally invested in seeing it succeed.

  She shook her head. “No, if we’re going to get everything in place to start accepting applications for next fall, we should probably meet again soon. Next Wednesday will work for me.”

  She assumed each meeting with Evan would get easier, especially since he had cooperated with her in keeping the tone between them strictly business. And in the meantime, she would decide whether it was time to let Lucy know about these meetings. She couldn’t say she was looking forward to that, but she was reluctant to deceive her mother-in-law, even through omission.

  Evan insisted that she leave the dinner cleanup to him. She gathered her notes and stuffed them into her bag in preparation to leave.

  He glanced at his watch as he walked with her into the living room. “I’m sure you’re eager to get home to the kids. Do you have a regular sitter for them?”

  “Lucy takes care of them when I’m not home. They always have activities at church on Wednesday evenings, which gives me one free night a week on my own. That’s why I’m available to meet with you and Tate next Wednesday.”

  “Lucy.” Evan cleared his throat uncomfortably after repeating the name. “You mean Lucy Sanchez?”

  She nodded, understanding why his tone had suddenly changed. It hadn’t occurred to her until just then that Evan probably wasn’t aware of her living arrangements. “Jason’s mother.”

  “She still lives close by, I take it.”

  “Actually, she lives with us. After Jason died, she took early retirement from her job with the Revenue Department and moved in with me during the last couple months of my pregnancy. She stayed to help with the twins when we brought them home from the hospital. When we saw how well it was working out, she sold her little house and we’ve shared a home since. It’s been an almost-ideal arrangement for all of us.”

  She could tell he was startled to hear that she and Lucy shared a home. He wouldn’t be the first person to find it odd that a thirty-year-old widow chose to live with her mother-in-law for seven years after her husband’s death, with no plans to change the situation. Renae rarely bothered to explain and never made excuses. It was a choice that suited her family, and she had no qualms about saying so.

  Evan pushed his hands into his pockets, his expression shuttered, his brown eyes darker than usual. “Does she still spit on the ground every time she hears my name?”

  She didn’t really know how to answer that only partially facetious question. She settled for, “Not quite that bad.”

  A muscle flickered in his set jaw. “Okay, but does she still blame me for Jason’s death?”

  Renae sighed wearily and pushed a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “She still grieves for her son. She gets caught up in ‘if only.’ If only he hadn’t gone riding that day, if only he hadn’t bought a bike in the first place...that sort of thing.”

  “All of which lead back to blaming me.”

  She was unable to argue. It seemed best to take her leave then, instead. “Thank you for the pizza, and for letting me be a part of establishing the scholarship.”

  He nodded and walked her to the door. They reached for the knob at the same time, his hand landing on top of hers. Rather than moving it immediately, he went still, his fingers warm around hers. His face was somber when he looked down at her. “Renae?”

  Her heart was racing much faster than it should have been, especially considering they were barely making contact. Yet that tou
ch of skin on skin, the warmth that radiated from him, the nearness and strength of him—all sent her thoughts winging back to a stolen kiss on a dark, summer night. A kiss that had left her bewildered, conflicted and crying into her pillow for several nights afterward. A kiss that still brought up feelings of guilt and confusion on the very rare occasion when she allowed herself to remember it.

  “What?” she whispered, unable to pull away just yet.

  “Do you still blame me?”

  She didn’t know if he referred to the kiss or to Jason’s accident, but her reply applied to both. “I try not to let myself dwell on the past.”

  That muscle twitched again in his jaw. “That’s not really an answer.”

  She drew her hand from under his, moving away so that no contact remained between them. “Jason made his own decisions.”

  Just as she had made hers.

  She shifted restlessly toward the door, making it clear she wanted Evan to open it. Without further delay, he did so. “I’ll see you next week,” he said as she walked out.

  She merely nodded and kept walking. Perhaps she should find an excuse to handle the rest of their scholarship business through the safely impersonal distance of email after all.

  * * *

  “You’re quieter than usual today, Evan. Is something wrong?”

  Resting his chopsticks against his plate, Evan shook his head and reached for his teacup.

  “Just hungry,” he explained in response to Lynette Price’s concerned question from across the restaurant table. “I overslept this morning, so I had to gulp down an apple for breakfast on the way to a client meeting.”

  Lynette nodded as if that fully explained his introspection. “I hate when that happens. I forgot to set my alarm last Friday and I was fifteen minutes late to work. Threw me off schedule for the rest of the day.”

  A week after Evan’s meeting with Renae, he and four friends had gathered for their every-Wednesday lunch at a Little Rock restaurant. His business partner, Tate Price, sat on the opposite side of the table flanked by his bride, Kim Banks Price, and Tate’s sister, Lynette Price. To Evan’s right sat Emma Grainger, who worked with Kim and Lynette.