His Best Friend's Wife Page 4

  Lynette, a physical therapist, and her coworker friends had started the Wednesday lunch outings almost a year ago. Lynette had invited her brother and Evan to join them a few weeks later. That was when Tate had met Kim. Now Tate and Kim were newly married.

  Though Tate and Kim’s wedding had been a spur-of-the-moment event, none of the others had been particularly surprised when they paired off. Sparks had flown between them from the start, though it seemed that the couple had been the last to acknowledge the attraction between them.

  “I’m sorry I caused Tate to miss your scholarship meeting last week,” Kim said to Evan.

  “It wasn’t your fault your car wouldn’t start,” he assured her.

  Evan remembered how hesitant he’d been to tell Renae that Tate had to cancel. He had sensed that she had been more comfortable at the thought of meeting with both of them rather than with Evan alone. He’d done his best to set her at ease, and he thought he’d succeeded for the most part—with the exception of their rather emotional parting.

  He still didn’t know for certain if Renae held resentment toward him for Jason’s death. After all, it had taken several years for him to stop blaming himself. Being outright accused at the funeral by Jason’s grieving mother had certainly not helped him with that slow healing.

  “How was your meeting with Mrs. Sanchez?” Emma asked curiously. Like the others, she’d heard about the scholarship launch, and had been told that the widow of the man in whose honor it was established wanted to be involved.

  It still rather startled Evan to think of Renae as Mrs. Sanchez, a name he associated with Jason’s mother. Renae had been so young when she and Jason married, and not much older when she’d been widowed. She was still young, for that matter, and yet she lived quietly with her children and her mother-in-law. Was she still in mourning for Jason?

  “It went well,” he said, keeping his thoughts to himself. “We made some decisions, outlined some of the things we need to do next.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Kim offered. “I’m still so grateful to you both for making my brother your first recipient.”

  “He wouldn’t have gotten it if he hadn’t been deserving,” Evan reminded her, not for the first time. “I’ll let you know if there’s anything you can do.”

  “I’d like to help, too,” Lynette offered. “Maybe we can come up with an idea for a fundraiser.”

  Evan nodded. “That would be good.”

  “We’ll all help,” Emma said. “It’s definitely a worthy cause. But I’d like to hear more about Jason Sanchez. You guys haven’t told us much about him, other than that he was a high school teacher who died in a motorcycle accident. What was he like?”

  Evan and Tate exchanged glances, and Evan was sure memories were flashing through Tate’s mind, just as they were his own.

  “Jason was great,” Evan said finally. “Smart, funny, outgoing. Every kid’s favorite teacher in school, you know? He made a real effort to keep his classes interesting, to bring history to life for his students. He’d only been teaching a couple years when he died, so I guess you could say he hadn’t had time to burn out yet.”

  “He wanted to teach college history,” Tate contributed. “He liked academia, enjoyed the challenges and even the politics of it all.”

  Evan nodded. A good-looking guy, Jason had savored being the center of attention, knew he was admired by his female students, fancied himself in the role of popular professor. His dad had died when Jason was a young teen, leaving him an only child to be pampered and indulged by his adoring mother.

  Several years his junior, a lonely young woman with a deep-seated longing for family and stability, Renae Ingle had fallen under Jason’s spell while she was an occupational therapy student and Jason was studying for his master’s degree. Evan had been doing an internship in urban gardening in Chicago that year. By the time he returned home, Renae and Jason were a couple.

  Which made it all the more wrong when Evan had fallen for Renae himself.

  “You knew him from childhood?” Emma persisted.

  “I did,” Evan confirmed with a nod. “Jason and I became friends in junior high and remained close after that. I met Tate in college, where we were both studying landscape design. I introduced him to Jason and the three of us spent a lot of time together after that.”

  “Jason was a good friend,” Tate agreed. “We had some fun times, didn’t we, Ev?”

  Evan nodded.

  “I saw Jason a couple of times when he stopped by the house on his motorcycle to meet up with Tate and Evan,” Lynette volunteered. “He was really good-looking, had a smile that made my teen knees melt. I had such a crush on him, and I think he knew it.”

  “Did you ever meet his wife?” Emma asked.

  Lynette shook her head. “No. The guys weren’t hanging out as much when Jason started dating her.”

  Tate shrugged. “We got busy. I was working for a landscape design company in Dallas, Evan was away doing an internship, Jason was getting his master’s degree. Then Evan went into the army, Jason and Renae got married, and Jason started teaching and studying for his doctorate. After that, we were lucky to all be in the same town for an afternoon to shoot some hoops or ride our...”

  Tate’s words faded. Obviously he had suddenly remembered that final motorcycle ride Jason and Evan had taken. “Anyway,” he continued quickly, “Evan spent more time with Jason and Renae when they were dating, before he went off to the army, so he knows her better than I do.”

  Evan still clearly remembered Jason introducing him to Renae. Shaking his hand, she had gazed up at him with a smile in those vivid blue eyes and Evan had felt his heart take a hard flop in his chest. Clichéd, maybe, but true. During the next few months, he’d spent some time with Jason and Renae, even double-dating on a few occasions, though his own dates hadn’t led anywhere. Maybe because he’d had a hard time taking his attention from Renae whenever she was in the vicinity though he’d done his best to ignore his attraction to her.

  There had been times when he thought he’d sensed an answering awareness in her when their eyes had met, but he’d tried to convince himself he was only projecting. It had been easier for his peace of mind to believe he had no chance with his buddy’s girlfriend, and he thought Renae had made an equally determined effort to ignore the sparks between them. Until the night they had found themselves alone in a pretty little garden at a friend’s house, standing beside a moonlit fountain.

  “Jason has asked me to marry him,” barely twenty-one-year-old Renae had confided tentatively, her face young and vulnerable in the pale light as she had gazed up at Evan.

  He’d felt his stomach twist, even as his fingers tightened around the beer can in his hand. He’d downed a few too many at that gathering to celebrate Jason’s master’s degree in education. Yet he found Renae’s eyes more intoxicating than the beverage as he asked in a gravelly voice, “What did you tell him?”

  Glancing downward, she had hesitated, moistening her lips and nervously tucking a strand of long, bleached hair behind her ear. “I told him I’d think about it.”

  Evan used his free hand to lift her chin so that he could look hard at her expression, as if he could read her thoughts in her glittering eyes. “Do you want to marry Jason?”

  “I’ve been alone a long time,” she had whispered. “Jason and Lucy love me and want me to be a part of their family.”

  Lucy had been all in favor of Jason marrying Renae. There had been times when Evan had wondered even back then if Lucy had pushed the match even harder than Jason had. Though Jason had seemed oblivious, maybe Lucy had sensed Evan’s attraction to Renae. Maybe that was part of the reason Lucy had been so cool toward him before Jason’s death, and downright hostile afterward.

  “That’s not what I asked you,” he had growled. He’d told himself he was asking for Jason’s sake, not his own. “Do you want to marry him?”

  “I—” She had paused with a hard swallow before saying, “I think
I do.”

  Evan had felt his heart drop. His first reaction had been pain—his second, an illogical anger.

  “Well, let me be the first to kiss the bride,” he’d said on a beer-fueled impulse. And he had pressed his lips to Renae’s, intending nothing more than a brief, forbidden, curiosity-satisfying kiss.

  It had instantly flared into so much more.

  “I’m sure Mrs. Sanchez is pleased that you guys want to memorialize her husband with this scholarship.”

  Emma’s comment brought Evan abruptly back to the present. Realizing he had been staring at the noodles on his plate for several frozen moments, he stabbed his chopsticks into the pile, avoiding Emma’s entirely too-perceptive dark eyes. “Yes, she seems to be. Tate and I will tell her this evening that the three of you want to be involved with fundraising. I’m sure she’ll be touched.”

  To his relief, Tate changed the subject then with a funny story about something little Daryn had done the night before. Though Evan participated in the conversation, he still found himself drifting back to that night so long ago, to a kiss that had flared into a hungry, passionate embrace that had almost burned out of control before Renae had broken it off with a shocked gasp.

  Staring up at him with tear-filled eyes, she had asked in a choked voice, “What was that?”

  “Something I’ve been wanting to do for weeks,” he had admitted grimly. “But if you’re going to marry Jason, it will never happen again.”

  “He loves me,” she had whispered, wringing her hands and looking at Evan with raw vulnerability. “Can you give me any reason I shouldn’t marry him?”

  Evan had felt the words trembling on his lips. But then he’d stared down at the crushed aluminum can in his hand and asked himself what in the hell he was doing. Jason was his friend. And Evan had plans that did not yet include marriage or children.

  Renae was young, confused, maybe suffering cold feet at the thought of major commitment, but he knew she cared deeply for Jason. He would do nothing more to come between them.

  “I’m sure you’ll both be very happy,” he had said as he’d turned to walk away without looking back. A month later, he’d been in boot camp, and Renae had been wearing a diamond on her left hand.

  For a long time afterward, he had wondered what Renae would have said if he’d told her that Jason wasn’t the only one who loved her.

  That was something he would never know, he reminded himself as he finished his lunch with his friends. Too much had happened since, too many reasons for him to keep his distance—not the least of which included her mother-in-law who blamed him still for Jason’s death.

  Chapter Three

  “Renae.” Holding her right hand in his, Tate greeted her with a warm smile Wednesday evening. “It’s so good to see you. You look great.”

  She returned the smile, noting that time had made few changes in him. Though his cheerful, guy-next-door good looks had never affected her in quite the same way as Evan’s darker, more solemn appeal, she had always liked Tate. “It’s nice to see you again, too, Tate. Congratulations on your new marriage.”

  He grinned. “Thanks. I got lucky. I have a beautiful wife and an adorable little girl who’s almost a year old. Want to see a picture?”

  Standing nearby, Evan shook his head. “You’re in for it now, Renae. Tate whips out those photos every chance he gets.”

  Rather charmed by Tate’s enthusiasm for his family, Renae assured him that she would love to see the photo. She smiled when he handed her his phone, on which was displayed a sweet snapshot of an attractive, honey-haired woman and a laughing baby.

  “This must be your wife.”

  “Yes. Kim. And the baby is Daryn. The next picture is a close-up of Daryn.”

  Renae dutifully admired several more shots, then returned the phone to Tate. “You have a lovely family.”

  “Thanks. They’re hanging out with Lynette this evening, watching a chick flick on TV—though I imagine Daryn will expect them to pay more attention to her than the movie. What about you? Do you have photos of the twins on you?”

  After only a split-second hesitation, Renae handed her phone to Tate. Evan moved closer to look over Tate’s shoulder at the duo displayed on the little screen.

  “Wow.” After studying the photo, Tate lifted his eyes to Renae. “Your son is a carbon copy of Jason.”

  She nodded. “Yes. If you set their first-grade photos side by side, you can hardly tell them apart.”

  “Leslie looks very much like him, too,” Evan observed quietly. “Definitely has his eyes.”

  “They both do,” she agreed.

  She slipped her phone back into the pocket of the black slacks she wore with a gray-and-black-striped sweater. Though she’d been told the twins shared many of her mannerisms, and that both had her smile, she knew there was little physical resemblance between them. They had inherited Jason’s near-black hair and eyes rather than her blond, blue-eyed looks. She saw him so often in them, as she knew Lucy did, and the resemblance comforted them both, letting them feel that Jason lived on in the children he’d never had the chance to meet.

  Just as his memory would live on in this scholarship in his name, she thought, reminding herself firmly of the reason they were all here now.

  “I brought the donation request letter for the two of you to look over,” she said, digging into her bag. “If you have any recommendations, feel free to let me know.”

  Seeming to understand that she needed to bring the topic back to the present, Evan moved toward the table. “Let’s get comfortable. We’ve got deli sandwiches this time. Turkey or veggie on whole wheat with fruit cups and chocolate chip cookies for dessert. Help yourself. I’ll get drinks. Iced tea, soda or bottled water?”

  “You don’t have to keep supplying food, Evan,” Renae said even as she took a seat and reached for a plate and a sandwich.

  He shrugged as he set a glass in front of her. “I’m always hungry after work and I figured you might be, too. Let’s see that letter.”

  As Renae had expected, it was a little easier having Tate to defuse some of the tension between her and Evan. The undertones were still there, though she hoped Tate was unaware of them. Maybe they were all in her own mind, but still she was grateful to Tate for his easy chatter and ready laughs while they made several big decisions about the scholarship fund.

  Only forty-five minutes after they’d gathered, Tate glanced at his watch and pushed away from the table. “Sorry to jet, but I’ve got a late business meeting in Benton in less than an hour. I’d better head out. I’ll give you a call later to let you know how it goes, Evan.”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  Renae set down her pen, thinking of the decisions still to be made. “Do you want to meet again next week to talk about the website?”

  Standing, Tate reached for his jacket. “I’ll be out of town next Wednesday, but I’m fine with whatever arrangements the two of you make. I know we’re under pressure to get everything up and running by the beginning of the new semester after Christmas break.”

  So she and Evan would be alone again next week. Renae cleared her throat and glanced briefly at Evan. “We can wait until the following week when Tate can join us again.”

  Evan shook his head. “Tate’s right. We don’t have much longer to get this all ironed out. If you’re available, I think we should go ahead and have our meeting.”

  The scholarship, she reminded herself. That was what was truly important here. “Yes, all right. But I’ll bring food next time.”

  Evan smiled. “If you’re sure you have time.”

  “Later, guys.” Tate dashed for the door, snatching a cookie from the table to take with him. Because he had always been casually demonstrative, he brushed a kiss on Renae’s cheek on the way past her. It startled her a little, but made her smile nonetheless.

  The apartment seemed smaller somehow with Tate gone. More intimate. Definitely quieter.

  Renae gathered her notes and stuffed them into he
r bag. “I guess that’s all we can do today. I’ll compile that list of state high schools this week so we can start mailing the application forms as soon as we have it printed. We’ll start sending the donation requests out at the same time. With the potential donors we’ve identified, I think we should have a decent response, especially since we’re making it clear that no contribution is too small to be appreciated.”

  Evan seemed to have no issues with her summary of their progress. Once again, she was pleased with how much input he and Tate wanted from her, even though the scholarship had been their idea and was initially being funded by their company.

  “We should need only a few more meetings to finalize all the details,” he said, “and then we can take a break until we start reading applications in April.”

  She told herself it would be a good thing when there was no reason to see Evan every week. She found herself thinking of him entirely too often during her days, and rarely solely in connection with scholarship business.

  She insisted on helping him clear the table this time, since they’d finished a bit earlier than the week before. She carried glasses into his galley-style kitchen and placed them in the dishwasher, turning just as he entered with the leftover cookies, so that he unintentionally blocked her exit.

  “Sorry,” he said, setting the cookies on the counter.

  She moved to pass him, but he didn’t immediately step out of the way, bringing them even closer together.

  His gaze held hers when he reached up unexpectedly to brush the ends of her angled bob, his fingertips just brushing her cheek. “Your hair is different,” he murmured. “Shorter and darker.”

  Self-conscious, she shrugged. “I stopped bleaching it. And it’s easier to wear it shorter with my busy schedule now.”

  “It looks good.”

  Uncertain how to take the compliment, she said merely, “Thank you.”

  He continued to search her face, as if noting every slight difference. “More than just your hair has changed.”