14

Evan Reese was tall and leanly built, though not scrawny. Rangy, that was the word. He had the look of a man who spent his life outdoors. A well-to-do man, though not born to money. He had met his wife, Christina when she used to own a food truck, and after two failed attempts, had finally found the guts to ask her out on a date.

Christina had accepted to go out with him because she liked him. She liked his sense of humor and the way he looked too. A strong-featured face, the deep-set gray-blue eyes crinkled at the corners, framed by dark lashes. His hair was black, cut far too short to be fashionable. A practical style. What on earth did a man like him see in a woman like her? Christina had wondered. If any other stranger had tried to strike up a conversation with her and ask her out on any other day, she’d have spurned him. Maybe the fates had indeed intervened to bring two kindred spirits together, in which case it would be unwise of her not to follow their lead, so she had accepte