His Best Friend's Wife (Bachelor Best Friends 2)

She traced the curve of his lips. “Nothing.”

He kissed her fingertip. “Okay.”

“I have to leave soon.”

His smile turned instantly to a frown. “Already?”

“It’s getting late, Evan.”

His sigh was both reluctant and resigned. “I know.”

She sat up, holding the throw to her breasts and glancing toward the neat pile of clothing on the nearest chair.

Evan pushed himself upright beside her and ran a hand down her bare back. “It seems like you’re always running off just as we’re getting comfortable.”

“A little too comfortable,” she countered lightly, though his touch made her shiver. “Much longer and I’d have fallen asleep.”

“I’d have been okay with that.”

She turned her head to look at him. His knees drawn up in front of him, he rested his arms atop them, unself-consciously nude. Not that he had any reason to be self-conscious—he looked like a statue of masculine perfection sitting there. She was conscious of her own imperfections—softness that could be a bit more toned, a few faded stretch marks from her pregnancy—but Evan never seemed to mind, or even notice, those flaws. Even now, he studied her with open admiration.

“You know I can’t sleep here,” she reminded him.

He nodded. “I know. But I still can’t help thinking about how nice it would be to wake up with you.”

It would be nice, she thought wistfully. But it wasn’t going to happen. “I’m sure you

’re not used to seeing women who have to rush home to their kids after a rare free evening with you.”

She wasn’t sure why she’d spoken that thought aloud. Was she reminding Evan or herself of the reality that lay outside this firelit fantasy?

“This is a first for me,” he admitted. “In a lot of ways.”

She wasn’t sure quite how to take that.

He leaned forward to kiss her shoulder. “I want more, Renae.”

She swallowed hard in response to both the kiss and the husky murmur. “More what?”

“More than an occasional stolen hour. I want to see the other part of your life, too.”

“There’s nothing exciting about my life.” Other than those stolen hours he’d mentioned, of course. “I go to work... I go home. I have dinner with my family, make lunches for myself and the kids. When I’m not at a school or church function with the family, I spend the evenings watching TV or playing board games with the kids and after they’re in bed, I read or play gin rummy with Lucy. On weekends we shop or see G-rated movies or visit the zoo or a playground.”

She spread her hand that wasn’t holding the fleece throw. “With the exception of the occasional social or business function like tonight, Wednesday evening is the only time I’m completely on my own. And for the past couple of months, you’ve had those, so I’d say you know pretty much everything about me.”

He had to have noticed how prominently Lucy figured into her life away from him. Had to understand the obstacles between them.

Still, he wasn’t notably dissuaded. “It sounds like a good life.”

“It has been,” she admitted. Especially for the past couple of months, she added silently. Despite the doubts and anxiety he had caused her, these stolen hours with Evan had filled a gaping hole in her otherwise contented existence. The thought of how much she would miss these encounters when—not if—they ended filled her with dismay.

His hand slid down her back again. “I understand why you’re reluctant to risk change. And I don’t want to mess up a good thing. I’d just like to be a part of it. I know it’s going to take a while for Lucy to come around, but maybe you and I could do something with the kids next weekend? Maybe we could take them to one of those pizza arcade places. Kids like those, don’t they?”

“You, um, want to take the twins to an arcade?” She had a little trouble wrapping her head around that image.

“Your kids are such an important part of your life,” he said simply. “I want to see that part, too.”

She twisted a corner of the throw between her fingers. “I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.”