by Gina Wilkins
“Let’s go inside and grab a table,” he said, reaching for the door. “Maybe we’ll luck out and find a corner where we can talk.”
A gaggle of young teens headed for the ice rink dashed through the door when he opened it, but he and Emma managed to avoid being mowed down. They entered side by side, heading for the coffee shop at the other end of the holiday-decorated hall lined with food and gifts vendors. Tables were arranged down the center of the hall, but Evan thought it would be quieter at the back, making conversation easier.
They were just over halfway to their destination when he came face-to-face with Renae.
While he adjusted to his shock at seeing her there, he saw her gaze dart from him to Emma and then back again. It wasn’t hard to guess what she was thinking.
“Renae,” he said, giving her an easy smile, trying to look as though he hadn’t just been knocked for a loop by the very sight of her. “This is a surprise.”
Her own smile was notably forced. “Hello, Evan.”
He glanced at the children bouncing impatiently on either side of her. Seeing young Daniel in person was even more of a jolt than seeing his photograph had been. The boy looked exactly like Jason. Leslie bore a strong resemblance, as well, but her features were softer, more feminine.
At least Lucy was nowhere in sight.
Remembering his manners, he glanced at his curious companion. “Emma Grainger, this is Renae Sanchez and her kids, Daniel and Leslie.”
Before the women could do more than nod in response to the introduction, Daniel asked, “I don’t know you. How do you know our names?”
Renae put a hand on her son’s shoulder. “Daniel, mind your manners. This is Mr. Daugherty. He’s a friend.”
Leslie was studying Evan’s face with an intensity that looked older than her years, and made her look much more like her mother, despite their different coloring. “I saw your picture. You were my daddy’s friend.”
He felt his eyebrows rise a little, but he nodded. “Yes, I was.”
“Are you here to go skating? We’re going to skate with some of our friends.”
Evan didn’t have a lot of experience talking to kids, but he figured it was just like talking to anyone else. “No, we’re not here to skate. My friend and I met here for a cup of coffee.”
Leslie nodded, but couldn’t seem to resist saying, “Skating’s more fun. And you should try the hot chocolate. It’s good, isn’t it, Mama?”
“Yes, it is.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Renae,” Emma said then. “Has Evan told you that my family would like to make a contribution to the scholarship?”
“He did, and we appreciate it very much,” Renae replied graciously, though her tone was still a bit more formal than usual.
Emma smiled at the children, speaking to them both. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy skating. We never had outdoor ice-skating in Arkansas when I was your age, and I always thought it looked like fun.”
Leslie nodded eagerly. “We go to the indoor rink sometimes, but we wanted to come here today. We like to skate. Even if Grammy says we have to wear our bike helmets.”
Evan had just processed the meaning of that slightly aggrieved statement when Lucy Sanchez appeared. “Renae, I thought you were taking the children out to—”
Lucy’s words died when she saw who stood in front of her daughter-in-law. Her round face paled.
He injected as much warmth as he could into his voice. “Hello, Mrs. Sanchez.”
Lucy put a hand on her granddaughter’s shoulder and drew the child back against her as if protecting her from a possible mugger. “Evan,” she acknowledged frostily.
“Lucy, this is Emma Grainger,” Renae said quickly. “She’s the one I told you about whose family is having a fundraising auction for Jason’s scholarship.”
Nodding to Emma with a little more graciousness than she had displayed toward Evan, Lucy murmured, “That’s very kind of you and your family. My son would be grateful.”
“Mama, I think I see Jacob out there.” Tugging at his mother’s hand, Daniel pointed toward the exit door through which they could see the skating rink. “They don’t know we’re here.”
“We really should go on out,” Lucy urged. “I’m sure they’re waiting for us.”
While that was probably true, Evan knew Lucy was mostly just trying to get her family away from him. Because that irked him, he gave her a bright smile. “It was nice seeing you again, Mrs. Sanchez.”
She muttered something unintelligible in response and led her granddaughter toward the exit. Leslie looked back over her shoulder to wave a goodbye to Evan
and Emma.
With Daniel still pulling at her hand, Renae gave Evan an apologetic look, but said only, “It was nice to meet you, Emma.”
“I’ll call you,” Evan said quietly to her, making sure his words didn’t carry to the hastily departing Lucy.
She nodded and kept walking.
He couldn’t dwell on that awkward encounter now—he had to focus on the friend who needed his attention. “Let’s get that coffee,” he said to Emma, waving a hand toward the counter.
A few minutes later, they sat in chrome-and-plastic chairs at a small, laminate-topped round table in the quietest corner they could find. Sipping his coffee black, Evan watched as Emma stirred creamer into her mug, her expression distracted.
It was hard not to be distracted himself. Was Renae skating with the twins? He’d like to see her on skates, laughing with her kids. Was she thinking of him now, aware of his proximity? Trying not to frown, he hoped that awareness wasn’t dimming Renae’s fun. He certainly hadn’t meant to ruin her outing.
Emma glanced up at him. “Lucy Sanchez is no fan of yours.”
Had she somehow followed his line of thinking? His chuckle held little humor. “Picked up on that, did you?”
“I didn’t expect that,” she admitted. “I thought everyone liked you.”
“That’s very nice of you, but I have my share of detractors. Lucy just happens to head the list.”
“I’m surprised. I’d have thought she would be grateful to you for establishing the scholarship.”
He shrugged. “More likely she’s gratified by the scholarship despite my involvement.”
“I don’t understand it. You’re such a nice guy.”
Emma wasn’t the type who would pry for details, and he wasn’t in the mood to discuss Lucy just then. Instead, he turned the conversation to Emma. “You said you needed to talk to me, Emma. Is it about the scholarship?”
She shook her head. “Actually, I called you because you were in the army. And because you’ve always had such good advice when the rest of us discussed problems during lunches.”
That was certainly not what he’d expected to hear. “You’re not thinking of enlisting, are you?”
She smiled fleetingly. “Not exactly. Was it hard for you? Leaving your home and your family here, I mean, to go off to another part of the world on your own?”
Taking her question in the same serious vein in which it was asked, he nodded. “Yeah. It was. My first time away from home, really, and I have to admit I was nervous. Had plenty of times when I got homesick. But it was something I needed to do.”
He hadn’t enlisted only to run away from his feelings for his friend’s fiancée, he assured himself. There had been a number of reasons he’d felt obligated to serve, and that had been only one of them.
“I’ve never lived anywhere but here,” Emma admitted. “Never more than thirty miles from my parents. I’ve had an offer for a job that would give me a chance to live in an entirely different part of the country and work with a former military man. I’ve been warned that he’ll be a challenge but I’m still tempted. I thought I’d run the offer past you and see what you think on both counts.”
She made a little face when she added, “I haven’t talked with my parents about it yet. I already know they’re not going to like it. I tried to talk to Lynette, but she doesn’t want me to le
ave the rehab center, even though I told her I’d probably come back eventually. I’m sure I could get my job there back. I just, well, I just feel like I need to try something different, you know?”
He thought he understood now why she’d called him. She needed someone who knew her, but could remain objective, maybe just listen to her deliberations without having an overly emotional response.
He leaned back more comfortably in his chair, doing his best to put Renae out of his mind for now. He would call her when he got home. He wanted to make sure she knew that while he had made himself available for Emma today, Renae was the only woman he considered more than just a friend.
Chapter Eight
The kids were in bed that evening, Lucy was in her room, and Renae sat in her own bedroom, propped against her headboard and staring at the book in her lap. She’d been holding the book for maybe ten minutes without even opening it, figuring she would be unable to concentrate on the story, no matter how good it might be.
Her phone sat on the nightstand within easy reach. She found her gaze drifting that way repeatedly, and it annoyed her that she sat here waiting for a phone call. She could pretend all she wanted that she’d come into her room for quiet reading time, but lying to herself would serve no purpose. Every muscle in her body was braced for a call from Evan.
Still she jumped when the phone vibrated against the nightstand. Feeling even more like a fool, she snatched it up. “Hello?”
“How was the ice?”
Why on earth would the sound of Evan’s voice bring a lump to her throat and make her eyes burn with a hint of tears? She forced herself to answer lightly, hoping there was no hint of emotional turmoil in her succinct response. “Cold.”
He chuckled, but she wondered if his humor was just a bit strained. “Yeah, I figured. Did the kids have fun?”
“They had a great time.”
It had been a magical setting in the twins’ eyes, with the colored lights strung in the pavilion above them, the Arkansas River running alongside, inky beneath the starlit sky, reflecting the lights of the cities lining its banks. Had she not been so conscious of Evan sitting inside with the beautiful Emma Grainger, Renae would have been as enchanted as her kids by the cheery holiday atmosphere. As it was, she had worked hard to concentrate solely on her children, snapping photos, laughing with them, cheering them on as they’d played on the ice. Lucy, too, had made an effort to keep up a happy front for the kids, though Renae could tell that seeing Evan had dimmed her mood considerably.
“I had no idea you’d be at the River Market this evening.”
“I know. I didn’t mention it to you.”
“Just didn’t want you to think I deliberately arranged that encounter. Emma needed to ask my advice about a quandary she’s having, and that was just a convenient spot for us to meet.”
“I never thought you expected to see me,” she assured him, remembering the surprise on Evan’s face when he’d seen her. She thought there had also been pleasure in his eyes at the sight of her, but then Lucy had made her appearance.
“I hope running into me didn’t spoil your outing.”
“Of course not. Why would it have?” she asked, deliberately obtuse.
He didn’t let her get away with it. “I could see that Lucy hates me now as much as she did seven years ago.”
Lucy had not mentioned Evan since. Not in the car on the way home, not while the twins were preparing for bed, nor when Lucy had announced that she was turning in early. When Renae had tried to bring up the incident, Lucy had cut her off with a shake of her head, making it clear she wasn’t ready to discuss it. As much as Renae loved her mother-in-law, she was aware that Lucy could be very stubborn.
“Lucy doesn’t hate you, Evan.” At least, Renae didn’t think Lucy’s antipathy could be described as hatred. It was just that Lucy still identified Evan with grief and loss. As unfair as that might be to Evan, Renae wasn’t really sure how to change Lucy’s mindset.
“Hmm.” It was obvious he didn’t believe her, and she supposed she couldn’t blame him for that.
Because there was nothing more to say about Lucy, she changed the subject. “Emma seemed nice.”
“She is. I consider her a good friend.”
The way he emphasized the last word made her think he was assuring her that there was nothing more than friendship between himself and Emma. Not that it was any of Renae’s concern, of course.
“Anyway,” he said when the silence stretched a bit too long, “I just wanted to tell you it was good to see you today, and I’m sorry I made things awkward for you with Lucy.”
“It’s okay.”
“So, what about lunch Wednesday? Want to join Tate and me with our friends so you can get to know them before the party?”
She moistened her lips. “This is a very busy time at the clinic. I’m not sure I can get away for lunch on Wednesday.”
“That’s cool,” he assured her, his tone studiedly casual. “But you’re welcome, if you’re able. And if not, I’ll be at my place at the usual time Wednesday evening.”
Renae leaned her head back against the headboard and stared at the ceiling, wishing she could find words of wisdom written there. “This is getting too complicated, Evan. I don’t really know what to do.”
“Seems pretty simple to me. Do you want to see me again?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“I know there are issues, but the question still stands.”
Issues. She guessed that was one way of putting it.
“Renae? Do you?”
“Yes,” she said with a sigh.
She heard the satisfaction in his voice when he said, “You know where to find me.”
“You aren’t making this any less confusing for me.”
“I want to be with you. I think I’ve made that clear enough. The next move is up to you.”
“And if I decide it’s just too problematic? We can just go back to being comfortable friends, like you and Emma?”
“You and I have never been comfortable friends, Renae. We tried, and it didn’t work. I don’t see it happening now.”
Her fingers tightened around the phone in response to his somber comment. “And you think this will work? This...what would you call it, Evan?”
“Maybe it’s about time we talk about that.”
A ripple of panic coursed through her. “I—”
“Not now. But the next time we’re together.”
She exhaled quietly. She really wasn’t ready for that talk just now, though it was becoming inevitable if she and Evan were going to continue to see each other. Unless she carefully avoided talking to him by making sure she and Evan weren’t alone together again, of course.
Coward.
“Good night, Renae. Call if you need me for anything.”
She knew he meant that. Just as she knew it was very unlikely that she would call. “Good night, Evan.”
Returning her phone to the nightstand, she groaned and buried her face in her hands, feeling more torn than ever between the two facets of her personality that had emerged in the past weeks. She knew she should focus on her responsible, dutiful, maternal side—but she wasn’t sure how easy it would be to put that long-neglected adventurous, impetuous and sensual part of herself back into the mental closet where it had been safely hidden for so long.
* * *
“Ouch.”
Evan froze midcaress, in response to Renae’s involuntary grimace. “What? Did I hurt you? What’s wrong?”
Sheepishly, she eased her left arm from around his neck. “Sorry. It’s a little bruised.”
“Let me see.”
“Oh, well, I—”
But he had already eased her purple cardigan from her shoulders, leaving her arms bared by the sleeveless purple-and-gray-striped sweater she’d worn beneath. The color of her outfit coincidentally matched the deep eggplant blotch that spread from her elbow almost halfway to her shoulder on the outside of her left arm.
&nb
sp; “What in hell did you do to yourself?”
She made a face, instinctively attempting to cover the bruise with her other hand. “It’s a long story.”
She’d arrived at his apartment only a few minutes earlier after several days of debating with herself, and several hours of being convinced that this time she would finally be strong enough to stay away. She’d gotten into her car thinking she would maybe go visit her favorite bookstore, but when she’d reached Evan’s apartment complex, she’d turned into the parking lot in resignation, knowing she’d simply been fooling herself all along.
For all Evan’s warnings about how they needed to talk, he had barely let her into his living room before he had her in his arms.
But now he was more focused on her injury. He moved her hand out of the way and traced a fingertip lightly over the bruise, barely making contact with her skin. Still, it was enough to make her shiver.
“Looks bad. Does it hurt?”
She craned her neck to look at the arm. “Not too much. And it actually looks better than it did. It’s fading some.”
“When did you do it? How?”
She laughed softly, ruefully. “It was one of those silly TV sitcom moments. A stepladder, a pair of overexcited twins and a hyperactive dog.”
“You fell?”
“I caught myself before I hit the floor. But I smacked my arm on a cabinet when I flung it out to steady myself.”
“What were you doing on a ladder?”
“Putting a star on the top of the tree. It would have been fine if Daniel had left the dog outside, as I’d instructed him to do. He spent some time in his room reflecting on why he should do what he’s told.”
Evan bent his head to press his lips to her shoulder. “Did you see a doctor?” he asked, his mouth moving against her skin.
“Um...” She swallowed, her eyelids going heavy. “No, it was just a bruise.”
“I told you I’d help you with the decorations.”
Her eyes flew open. She drew a few inches away from him. “You know why that isn’t going to happen.”
Evan sighed, impatience radiating from him.
“Besides,” she added quickly, “I’m perfectly capable of decorating my own tree. Next time, the dog will stay outside.”