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

Maybe he should have mentioned that little detail to Renae first, but he answered honestly, “Yes.”

“Do you understand what you’re getting into? Her children will always come first with her. You’ll be expected to be a—” she stumbled, but continued doggedly “—a father to them. Your presence will be expected at school programs, sports meets, dance and piano recitals. You’ll be there when they’re sick. There will be tantrums and emergencies and fights, first dates and traumatic breakups, the expense of braces and clothing and college. Are you prepared for that?”

He swallowed, understandably nervous at the litany of responsibilities he would be taking on. “As prepared as I can be.”

“You’ll never be prepared for growing to love them and then losing them,” she whispered. “Whether it’s because they grow up and move away or...or something else….”

“No,” he admitted, pushing a hand through his hair. “I can’t imagine being prepared for that.”

They both sighed.

“As for whether you and I can be comfortable together,” Evan continued, “that’s something we can work on for the sake of the family.”

She looked down at her hands, trying to hide the tears that had started to leak from her eyes.

This must be the day for opening old wounds, he figured. But maybe that was the only way they were ever going to heal.

“I know you blame me for Jason’s death, Mrs. Sanchez,” he said brusquely. “I could argue that he made his own decisions and that it was only fate that let me get through that intersection ahead of him. I could tell you that I loved my friend, and that I would have given anything to trade places with him that day. But none of that would bring him back.”

Still looking down, she sniffled and wiped at her face with one hand. His heart twisting in response to her misery, Evan

pulled out the handkerchief his Southern mother had trained him to carry. “It’s clean,” he said, offering it to her.

Without meeting his eyes, she accepted the handkerchief and dried her cheeks, though moisture continued to leak from the corners of her eyes. “Renae said that seeing you, for me, is a painful reminder that Jason is no longer here.”

“I’m sure she’s right.”

“Yes. But she doesn’t blame you. She said the only person we should blame is Sam Abbott.”

“No. She doesn’t blame me.” Not anymore, anyway. “But she wasn’t Jason’s mother,” he added gently. “I can’t fault you for having resentments against me, Mrs. Sanchez. I just hope we can find a way to make peace now.”

Lucy drew an unsteady breath. “I suppose we can try.”

It was a tenuous truce, at best, but he would take what he could get. “Then come home, will you? The kids want to show you their snowman before Boomer knocks it down, and I’ve got a bowl of pretty delicious-looking soup waiting for me. I’d like to eat it before it gets cold.”

At the mention of the word home, she rose, though she still looked at him with a measure of misgiving. He figured it would be a while before he proved that she could trust him. With her daughter-in-law, with her grandchildren—and with her own future security.

“If we’re going to live together eventually, I guess you might as well call me Lucy,” she told him rather grudgingly.

He chuckled wryly. “Thank you.”

They turned together toward the doorway only to find themselves face-to-face with Renae, watching them both with tear-filled eyes.

Lucy gave a little gasp of surprise. “Where are the children?”

Renae straightened and swiped quickly at her face with the back of one hand. “Maxine and Daisy are with them. They sent me here, in case either of you needed backup. But you both seem to have been holding your own.”

“How long have you been standing there?” Evan asked with a slight wince.

She met his eyes with a smile that made his heart pound. “Long enough to know to expect a proposal.”

“And do you have an answer ready?” he asked huskily.

Her smile turned to a shaky laugh. Though the answer was in her eyes, she shook her head. “You’ll have to ask me before you find out. And as much as I love my mother-in-law, I’d just as soon we do that in private.”

“I’ll get my coat,” Lucy said, moving toward Renae. She patted Renae’s arm on the way past, a gesture that looked to Evan like a mixture of affection and apology.

Evan moved toward Renae, sliding a hand down the arm of her coat. “You could have let me know you were there.”