“Lucy is going to have to accept that you’re a part of my life now, just as she is,” she said firmly. “She tried to make me choose between you, but I refuse to make that choice. There’s room in my heart for both of you.”
His mouth twisted in a grimace. “It’s not going to be easy.”
“I think you’re the one who pointed out once that nothing between us has ever been easy,” she reminded him with a slight laugh, reaching for her coat. “We’ll make it work.”
Heading to his closet to get his gear, he smiled over his shoulder. “I believe we will.”
* * *
A snowball hit Evan square in the middle of his back. Turning in the trampled snow to teasingly confront Daniel, he found Renae grinning at him instead, while her children giggled in delight.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he warned her.
She grinned. “We’ll see about that.”
Her face was red with cold, surrounded by strands of damp blond hair that had escaped the striped knit cap pulled down over her ears. A striped scarf wound thi
ckly around her neck, and her puffy coat and gloves were covered with clumps of snow, as were her jeans from knees down and her waterproof boots. She looked silly, disheveled—and so appealing his blood heated despite the cold.
Dressed in their warmest clothing, the twins romped around them, throwing snow, wrestling with their hyperactive dog. A funny-looking snowman watched them play, his stick arms outstretched, his pebble smile beaming approval. The sounds of other children enjoying the snow drifted from other homes on the street.
Evan heard a distant siren and figured there’d been a fender bender nearby, ruining someone’s snow day. Thinking about Renae jumping into her car to go to him earlier still made his stomach lurch. It had been challenging enough driving her back home in his four-by-four truck. Still, despite his exasperation with the risk she had taken, he couldn’t help but be glad she’d come to him, he thought, smiling as he watched her playing with the twins.
As if they’d sensed him watching them, the trio turned en masse and rushed toward him with gloved hands full of cold snow. Laughing, he tried to ward them off, but they surrounded him, aiming for any small patch of exposed skin. Feeling a trickle of snow slide down the back of his neck, he growled and caught a twin in each arm, lifting them off their feet kicking and squealing.
“After I toss these two in the nearest snowbank, I’m coming back for you,” he warned Renae.
Standing only inches in front of him, she hefted a snowball meaningfully. “You think so, do you?”
He simply couldn’t resist brushing a quick kiss over her smile, savoring the feel of her cold lips beneath his.
“Oooh, Evan kissed Mama,” Leslie crooned.
“Yuck,” Daniel proclaimed, though he, too, seemed rather pleased.
Something made Evan glance toward the house. Lucy stood framed in the kitchen window, looking out at them. She turned and disappeared before he could see her expression.
He sighed and set the kids on their feet. So it wasn’t all going to be laughter and kisses. He still didn’t regret the commitment he had made to this family.
“We’d better go in now,” Renae said a few minutes later, igniting a chorus of protest from the kids.
“You’re cold and wet,” she told them with a firm shake of her head. “You can play in the snow again later, but for now you need to go inside and get warm.”
They stopped on the back stoop to stomp and brush off as much snow as possible. Renae had left a stack of towels just inside the kitchen, and they all made use of them as they stripped out of wet outer gear. Lucy was nowhere in sight, though a big pot of homemade chicken noodle soup sat on the stove, the burner turned low to keep it warm, and a covered pan of corn bread was on the counter.
Making sure they were both dry, Renae sent the kids to wash up for lunch. “It’s almost an hour after they usually eat,” she confided to Evan when the kids ran from the room. “I’m sure they’ve worked up an appetite.”
Sniffing the air appreciatively, Evan nodded. “They aren’t the only ones.”
Renae chuckled. “If that’s a hint, it isn’t necessary. Of course you’re welcome to—”
He looked around at her when her voice trailed off. “What’s wrong?”
She was staring down at a sheet of paper in her hand, her expression a mixture of frustration and distress. She looked up at him with eyes suddenly luminous with tears. “Why does she have to be so damned dramatic about everything?”
It wasn’t necessary for her to identify the “she” in question. Evan sighed. “What does it say?”
“Lucy’s moving out,” she said dully. “She said she has come to the realization that her grief and fear of being alone has caused her to hold me back from having my own life.”