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 grey-blue eyes crinkled at the corners, framed by dark lashes. His hair was black, cut...