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Her Best Friend’s Husband
Justine Davis
Table of Contents
Justine Davis lives on Puget Sound in Washington. Her interests outside of writing are sailing, doing needlework, horseback riding and driving her restored 1967 Corvette roadster—top down, of course.
Justine says that years ago, during her career in law enforcement, a young man she worked with encouraged her to try for a promotion to a position that was, at the time, occupied only by men. “I succeeded, became wrapped up in my new job, and that man moved away, never, I thought, to be heard from again. Ten years later he appeared out of the woods of Washington State, saying he’d never forgotten me and would I please marry him. With that history, how could I write anything but romance?”
Chapter 1
“It’s time, Gabe.”
Gabriel Taggert looked at his father-in-law and wanted to punch him out. Which was odd, because he admired, respected, and yes, loved the man. And he would never do it, since at his own six-foot-one he towered over the slighter man.
“He’s right, dear,” Gwen Waldron said quietly, agreeing with her husband. She usually did. Not that she wasn’t more than capable of standing up for herself if she truly disagreed; it was just that the forty-years’-married couple rarely differed in opinion.
“Just like that?”
Gabe’s voice came out low and harsh, which startled him. Shouldn’t he be over it by now? They all—meaning every well-intentioned person who knew what had happened—told him it was a process that was individual, that everyone had to do it at their own pace and in their own way. But despite the platitude, he was fairly certain most of them would expect his world to have gone on by now.
“Do you think we like this any more than you do?”
For the first time the undertone of emotion broke through in Earl Waldron’s voice. Somehow that made the tightness in Gabe’s gut ease a little.
“But it’s been eight years.” Gwen put her hand on his arm then, a touch he treasured because of who she was and hated because of who she wasn’t. “You know she’d have been in touch, no matter what happened, if she could.”
He supposed the worst part of what he was feeling was the knowledge, somewhere buried deep, that they were right. He fought to keep it buried, but with both of them digging at it now, he wasn’t sure he could. The simple fact was, his wife was gone, vanished so completely that not having found a body didn’t make it any less likely she was dead.
“We’re not asking for a decision here and now. Just promise you’ll consider it,” Earl said. “Really consider it, son. We need to move on. And so do you.”
“All right.” He owed them that much, and he couldn’t help it if the words came out a little sharp.
He stood there on the deck of the hundred-and-forty-nine foot boat that was his world these days and watched them walk down the gangplank. They’d been a huge part of his life for so long—accepting him as the son they’d never had and still treating him that way, even though the link
