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

“Unless they heard ‘Jingle Bells’ playing from your radio earlier.”

He made a face at her. “Funny.”

“I’d better go,” she said with a wistful sigh. “Thank you for the lovely evening, Evan.”

He kissed her again, slowly, but drew away without trying to change her mind. “I’ll call you.”

She nodded and reached for her door.

His hand fell on her shoulder. “Renae.”

“Yes?”

“That party Emma’s family is giving Saturday evening? I’d like you to go with me.”

“I said I would be there,” she reminded him. “I promised to represent the scholarship fund with you and Tate and Kim.”

He shook his head. “I don’t mean I want you to attend as part of the group. I want you to go with me.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip, suddenly realizing what he was asking. “You mean, like a date?”

He shrugged. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

So he had viewed tonight much the same way she had—as a shift in their...well, relationship was the only word she could come up with.

“I could meet you there,” she said, though she wasn’t sure he would be satisfied with that offer.

She was right.

“I’d rather pick you up, so we can go in together.”

She twisted her fingers in her lap. “You know what you’re asking of me.”

Holding her eyes steadily, he nodded. “You have to tell her sometime, Renae.”

“Do I?” she murmured.

After a pause, he asked, “Did you think we could just keep doing this indefinitely? Meeting on Wednesdays for a couple hours of lovemaking or maybe an occasional secret dinner out without Lucy ever being the wiser?”

She sighed ruefully. “It had crossed my mind.”

“As much as I’ve enjoyed having you to myself these past few weeks, it’s time to decide where we’re going from here. I’m thinking a first step would be for us to see each other openly. We got a start on that tonight, but maybe the party would be a chance for us to take it a step further.”

Renae had been relatively confident tonight that they wouldn’t run into anyone who knew them. What Evan was suggesting was a far bigger step than having dinner in a dimly lit, out-of-the-way restaurant.

And she didn’t know if she was ready.

“I’d have to think about it. I’d have to decide what to tell Lucy.”

His dark brows furrowed. “How about telling her you choose your own friends?”

Friends? She could figure out what to say if she and Evan were simply friends. Surely he understood how much more difficult it would be to tell Jason’s mother that she was sleeping with the enemy.

Not that she would

be quite that blunt about it, of course. But Lucy could be a little too perceptive.

“Just let me think about it, okay?”