by Gina Wilkins
By the time he donned protection and thrust into her, playfulness had changed to burning, almost-desperate need. They found that satisfaction together, their soft cries harmonizing perfectly in the darkening bedroom.
Chapter Six
“Well?”
Renae drew a long, deep breath, settling her pulse rate before she spoke. “Well, what?”
“Was it fun?”
She was surprised into a quick laugh. “Yes, I suppose it was.”
Propped on one arm beside her in his bed, Evan reached out to stroke a strand of hair from her cheek. “Going to tell your coworkers you took their advice?”
Her laugh changed to a rueful grimace. “Not exactly.”
“Just curious.”
She started to turn her head toward the nightstand, but he caught her jaw to prevent her from doing so. “Don’t check the clock yet. You still have some time.”
“I do have to get home soon,” she reminded him. “Lucy will worry if I’m late.”
A frown flickered over his face at the mention of Lucy’s name. Renae now expected him and Lucy to scowl at any mention of the other, which was rather annoying.
“You and Lucy have no plans to set up separate households again anytime soon?” he asked, his tone a bit too casual.
“We’ve never discussed it.”
“I understand why she moved in to help with the twins when they were babies, but now that they’re older, it seems like you’d both want your own places. I mean, how old is Lucy—sixty, sixty-one?”
“She’s fifty-nine.”
“Even younger than I thought. She was young when the twins were born—still is, really. Doesn’t she want a social life of her own? Don’t you?”
“We’ve had a good life,” Renae said, hearing a note of defensiveness in her voice. “Those first couple of years were tough, of course, and we stayed incredibly busy with the babies. Daniel had some health problems as a newborn, and he needed a lot of care. By the time things settled down, we’d gotten into a comfortable routine. Lucy has her friends and activities at church. I have my friends, and my Wednesday evenings on my own. It works for us.”
He shook his head. “Just seems like it would feel like living with your mother at thirty.”
“I suppose it does,” she said softly. “I barely remember living with my mother, but Lucy has been like a mom to me almost since we met. We disagree sometimes, but for the most part we get along amazingly well.”
“That’s great, I guess,” he said, hardly convinced, “but it still seems like having her there would limit your social activities.”
She shrugged. “My activities are more limited by my six-year-old twins than by my mother-in-law.”
He thought about that for a moment. “I can see that,” he acknowledged. “Even if Lucy didn’t live with you, I doubt you’d want to bring a man home after a date when you’ve got young kids in the house.”
“It hasn’t really been an issue. There haven’t been many dates, and there was no one I wanted to bring home afterward.”
Realizing it was a very strange conversation to be having at that particular time—not to mention while lying naked in Evan’s bed—she rolled to look at the clock despite his earlier objection. He was right, she did have a little time yet. But now she was self-conscious.
Evan was still focused on her social life, for some reason. “Does Lucy object to you dating?”
“Of course not.” Perhaps she’d spoken with a bit more force than necessary, but she assured herself it was the truth. Maybe Lucy wasn’t enthusiastic about Renae dating, but she had never actually objected.
“And if she knew you were here with me? What would she say?”
Renae couldn’t quite suppress her grimace. “I think you already know the answer to that, Evan.”
His face was suddenly grim. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
She didn’t understand why Evan kept pushing the subject of Lucy’s antipathy toward him. He knew very well how Lucy felt, and he should understand why, even if he didn’t agree with her. And he had to know that Renae’s loyalties lay with the woman who had been such a vital part of her little family for all these years. It wasn’t as if he and she were seriously involved anyway. She didn’t know exactly what they were doing, but she figured the fire would burn out soon enough.
She reached for Evan’s discarded shirt, wrapping it around herself as she slid out of the bed. Evan didn’t try to detain her, but she felt him watching her as she gathered her clothes and padded toward the bathroom.
Evan must have ducked into the half bathroom while Renae dressed. She could smell food when she walked out of his bedroom, leaving his shirt folded on the end of the bed. He was always feeding her—it was rather sweet of him, actually.
This time Evan hadn’t stopped for takeout. Renae’s eyes widened when she saw the table. “You cooked?”
Evan looked a little sheepish. “I got home early this afternoon. Had a little extra time. It’s just spaghetti with meat sauce and garlic bread. Nothing fancy.”
“You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t even know for sure you’d be here but I figured it was worth a shot.”
Had he really not expected her? Was he so oblivious to how strongly she was drawn to him, no matter how hard she fought it?
They chatted about inconsequential things during the meal, avoiding mention of anything important. Evan talked about his work, about some of the plans he and Tate had for expanding their business, and she saw the ambition in his eyes. She had no doubt that they would soon be one of the premier landscape design firms in the state. She asked a lot of questions, and the time passed so quickly she had to hurriedly finish her meal when she glanced at her watch.
“We didn’t talk about the scholarship tonight,” Evan said as they cleared the table. “We should probably look things over next week, make sure we’re still on track for the coming semester.”
Though he’d just said he wasn’t sure she’d come this evening, he seemed to be taking for granted now that she would be back next week. Thinking of her calendar, she shook her head. “I won’t be here next week.”
Evan went still. A frown cut a line between his dark brows. “You won’t?”
She could see that her words had taken him aback. Maybe he thought she was breaking it off with him. She probably should, before everything got even more complicated between them than it already was.
“Next Wednesday is the night before Thanksgiving. I’ll have too much to do getting ready for the holiday.”
His expression cleared and she thought she saw some of the tension leave his shoulders. “Oh. Yeah, I forgot about the holiday.”
She would think later about how dismayed he’d seemed before her clarification—and what that meant about this no-strings, purely physical affair she’d thought they were having. She said the first thing that came to mind to distract herself as she gathered her things to leave. “Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?”
He nodded. “My grandparents in Batesville are hosting the family. My sister’s coming from St. Louis, and our parents are flying in from San Diego.”
She remembered that he had grown up in Little Rock, but his parents had relocated to San Diego because of his dad’s career when Evan was in college. At loose ends on weekends after that, Evan had spent time hanging out with Jason and Tate, occasionally getting into mild mischief, from what Renae had gleaned later from Jason and Lucy. That had been a couple years before she’d met Jason, but she had no trouble picturing the three friends raising a little hell during their college years. Lucy might have tried to cast Evan in the role of ringleader, but Renae had no doubt that Jason had contributed his share of ideas.
“I’m sure you’ll enjoy visiting with your family.”
“Lots of food and football,” he replied lightly. “What’s not to enjoy?”
She smiled. “Lucy and I are cooking a traditional Thanksgiving meal. A couple of widowed neighbors
are joining us for lunch, since neither of them have family to share the holidays with.”
He managed not to frown this time in response to the mention of her mother-in-law. She supposed that was progress. “That’s generous of you,” he said.
“They’re both very sweet ladies. We enjoy spending time with them.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Evan leaned against the back of the couch. She sensed a lingering tension in him she couldn’t quite explain.
“What about your family?” he asked. “Will you see any of them for the holiday?”
She toyed with the strap of her bag. His question only highlighted how little they really knew each other. “My father died last year. My few remaining relatives have scattered, and I don’t see them very often now.”
He grimaced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know about your dad.”
“It’s okay.”
She wasn’t sure how much Evan remembered—or had ever known—about her rootless past. She had been very young when her mother died of an allergic reaction to a medication. Her father, a truck driver who had spent more time on the road than at home, had left his young daughter to be passed around among a couple of aunts with whom she had never bonded. Her childhood hadn’t been an unhappy one, exactly, but she had definitely been vulnerable when she’d met naturally demonstrative Jason and his inherently nurturing mother—lonely, and hungry for affection and stability.
“Well,” she said, shoving those thoughts to the back of her mind. “I’d better go. It’s getting late.”
Pushing away from the couch, Evan walked with her to the door. “Enjoy your Thanksgiving, Renae.”
She smiled up at him. “Thank you. You, too.”
He lowered his head to kiss her. The kiss was long, slow and so thorough that her head wasn’t quite clear by the time he finally, reluctantly, released her.
“I’ll call you,” he said.
She swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice before she replied. “The kids are always in bed by nine. Any time after that is good.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He kissed her again. Feeling her knees start to weaken, she gave him a light push, putting distance between them before she was tempted to stay awhile longer. “Good night, Evan.”
She was out the door before he had a chance to respond. Standing in the hallway outside his apartment, she rested her hand on the wall, needing a moment to collect herself before heading for her car. She didn’t hear Evan moving inside. Either the door muffled sounds, or he was still standing where she had left him.
They were separated by only a few feet and a couple inches of wood, but the distance between them seemed so much farther. Whatever drew them together—attraction, chemistry, whatever it could be called—it was not enough to overcome all the issues that kept them apart. The attraction had been there nine years ago, too, but all it had brought her was heartache, guilt and confusion.
As she walked to the car, she assured herself she wouldn’t risk everything she had accomplished during the past seven years just because sexy Evan Daugherty had strolled back into her life.
* * *
The blessing Lucy gave over their bountiful Thanksgiving dinner expressed gratitude for the food, for their home and their health, for the two dear friends who had joined them that day, and for all their happy memories of loved ones no longer with them. By the time she said “amen,” the adults gathered around the dining room table were all damp-eyed.
Fortunately, the children brightened the moment with their holiday delight.
“I want lots of sweet potatoes,” Leslie said, bouncing in her chair. “With extra marshmallow topping.”
“You’ll have plenty of sweet potatoes,” Renae assured her daughter with a smile. “But you need to eat some of the other dishes, too. Mrs. Whelan’s green beans smell delicious, and I’m sure you’ll like the dressing Mrs. Sinclair made to go with Grammy’s beautiful turkey.”
Daisy and Maxine beamed in response to Renae’s compliments about the dishes they had contributed. Daisy’s son would be home for Christmas, but couldn’t make both holidays, leaving the widowed sisters at loose ends for Thanksgiving. Renae was sure they’d had other invitations, and she was pleased that they’d chosen to celebrate with her family. The twins loved having guests.
“Be sure and save room for dessert,” Daisy urged the children. “I made chocolate pie and Maxine brought pumpkin pie. And I think I saw that your grandma made a coconut pie and sugar cookies.”
The twins squirmed eagerly in their chairs. Renae swallowed a sigh, thinking of the sugar highs ahead.
The adults lingered at the table with cups of tea after dessert as the children dashed outside to work off some of their excess energy. The weather was cool but pleasant, requiring only jackets to keep them comfortable as they ripped around the fenced backyard with the growing pup who’d been banished outside for the day.
“Your children are so well behaved, Renae,” Daisy said approvingly, glancing through the glass door that led out to the backyard. “You’ve taught them excellent table manners for such a young age.”
“Thank you,” Renae replied, pleased. “But I have to give a lot of the credit to Lucy. She is such a help to me with the twins.”
Lucy beamed.
Maxine glanced from Lucy to Renae. “It’s so nice that you two get along so well. I never could have lived with my mother-in-law. There’d have been all-out war in the household if we’d tried. Mean old biddy,” she added in a wry undertone. “Rest her soul.”
Renae swallowed a laugh. “I lucked out when it came to my mother-in-law. I couldn’t have asked for a better one.”
Lucy blinked rapidly. “I feel the same way about my daughter-in-law.”
“So nice,” Daisy said. “You two have made a lovely home here for the children.”
Lucy’s smile faded. She glanced at one of the empty chairs at the table. “We’ve done our best.”
Having suffered losses of their own, the other women nodded understandingly. When a spate of happy barking followed by a chorus of giggles drifted in through the glass door, they all smiled.
Lucy shook her head. “That dog is a handful. I thought Renae had lost her mind when she agreed to let them bring him home. But I have to admit, the twins love him dearly and they do take good care of him.”
A ball flew past the door, followed by the dog and then the kids racing him toward the prize.
Maxine chuckled. “Must be nice to be so young and have that much energy after such a big meal while the older folk sit here getting sleepy.”
Once again her senior citizen neighbor was treating Renae as a chronological peer. It didn’t shake her as badly today as it had on Halloween. Maybe because she was more accustomed to hearing it now. Or maybe because she’d been feeling younger and more desirable lately—and she knew exactly who to thank for that.
Even if she and Evan were never alone together again, she would be grateful to him for making her feel attractive again, she thought somewhat wistfully. She was hardly going to hit up the singles bars or sign up for a matchmaking service after she and Evan went their own ways again, but still, it was nice to feel this way, if only for a little while.
* * *
“So, Evan. Are you seeing anyone?”
Swallowing a bite of gooey pecan pie, he washed it down with a sip of coffee before replying deliberately vaguely to his grandmother’s question. “I’ve been really busy with the business lately, Mimi. We’re just slowing down a little for winter, but summer was crazy.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” his dad asked.
“You bet. Tate and I have been pleased with our growth this year.”
“And what about the book?” his mother inquired. “How’s that coming along?”
He and Tate had been working on a photo-essay book about urban gardening, collaborating with a young local photographer who’d shot some of their most successful and impressive projects during the summer. “We
haven’t made much progress, but we’re hoping to put some time into it after the first of the year, before the spring gardening rush starts again.”
“And the scholarship?” his sister, Caroline, asked, joining in the inquisition. “How’s that going?”
He took another bracing sip of coffee. “Very well. Renae Sanchez has been working with us to nail down all the details before we start accepting applications for next year.”
Caroline eyed him narrowly while the others got sidetracked with a discussion about which of their friends could be counted on to contribute to the scholarship fund. Three years his senior, Caroline was the one member of his family who would best understand his mixed feelings about working so closely with Renae.
Caroline had been the one he’d gone to the night of Jason’s funeral, and to whom he had poured out his grief, his survivor’s guilt, his dismay that Lucy placed so much blame on him. And his hurt that Renae had said nothing in his defense when Lucy all but accused him at the funeral of causing Jason’s death. He had looked at Renae, hoping for support, or at least a sign that she didn’t agree. Instead, she had put an arm around Lucy’s shoulders, turned and led her away without looking back at Evan.
Reading between the lines of his outpouring of words, his sister had asked him that night if he was in love with Renae.
“Maybe I could have been,” he had answered her after a long, choked pause. “But she loved Jason.”
“And so did you,” Caroline had said, placing a hand on her brother’s cheek.
Covering her hand with his, he had struggled against tears. It had been the last time he’d cried—for Jason, and for himself.
Caroline caught him alone a short while after Thanksgiving dinner, while the various other members of the family mingled elsewhere in their grandparents’ home. “So, you’ve been working with Renae Sanchez.”