* * * *
“So could you.”
“Hey, that’s not
my
job.” Frankie took the seat recently vacated by Eric, sipped his beer.
“He should have taken my word at face value.”
“Why? You don’t take anyone’s word at face value.”
“Whose side are you on anyway?”
Frankie threw his hands in the air as if in surrender. “I ain’t got no nickel in this dime. I’m just an innocent bystander.”
“Ain’t nothing innocent about you.”
He chuckled. “I stopped Tabby-Cat from getting her swerve on,” he teased.
“That’s not funny.” None of this situation was a bit funny.
The man had had the nerve to leave in a self-righteous huff. Like she had done something wrong or offended him in some way. He was the one in the wrong, and she would not apologize. Especially when
he
had popped up on her unannounced in those black jeans and that black turtleneck and black leather jacket, looking like a sexy sinful cat burglar, and sending her hormones into irreversible overdrive with his barely contained heat.
“What are you thinking?”
“Nothing you need to know.”
“You really should have just told him.”
“It wasn’t something he needed to know.” At least not yet. Maybe never.
“He’ll come back you know.”
“Since when are you such an expert on human relations?”
“I’m not an expert. I just know what I saw, and the look in his eyes when he left said he’s going to come back, at least as soon as he realizes he fucked up.”
“I’m glad you realize that he’s the one who…fucked up and not me.”
“Oh, I didn’t say that. You both kind of fucked up if you ask me.”
116
Beneath the Surface
“Thanks a lot.”
“Happy to help. Oh, and speaking of…” Frankie dug into a jeans pocket, extracted five crisp twenties and pushed them into Tabitha’s hand. “Not that it comes even close to paying you back for all you’ve done for me. Or for me interrupting your groove session.”
Tabitha laughed. “Are you sure?” She knew he’d be coming back for some, if not all of it.
He always did but who knew, maybe the tides were finally starting to turn.
“It’s about time I started pulling my weight around here, at least for the time I’m staying.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, got up and headed down the hall to the bathroom, leaving Tabitha sitting in the living room with her head spinning.
God, there must have been a full moon out tonight. First Eric stopping over out of the blue, randy and ready and turning her inside out with his hot hands and his even hotter mouth, and now this. War and Armageddon were surely on the horizon.
117
Gracie C. McKeever
Jade knew EJ was home. She had spoken to Jodie and knew he had gotten back into town.
So why wasn’t he returning her calls?
Even if he was writing, he eventually found a free moment to return her calls once he came up for air and realized that there was a big wide world of sex rushing by without him.
Jade didn’t pretend he abstained when he wasn’t with her. She knew how he was, knew she wasn’t the only one EJ was seeing and that he would not do without for long, even though she knew that he could. Evidence of the latter plainly apparent the last time she’d come over and he hadn’t wanted to do anything.
What was the point of her coming over? Sure she liked spending time with him, liked playing Scrabble and watching sports on TV with him., but half the fun of their relationship was the unpredictable excitement of their sex life. Without that, what was there to keep him close to her when he could get sex from another sexy stand-by if he wanted?
Someone like Ms. Uptight Personal Shopper.
Jade ground her teeth as she fine-tuned and finalized the concept for one of her latest campaigns. She’d soon be swinging the layout over to her art director to start on mock-ups.
Thanksgiving Eve and she was stuck in this place knocking herself out to ensure the agency met its deadline for a big retail account and that she kept her job for another day.
Jade flashed to her first campaign when she’d handled the advertising for her best friend’s lemonade stand back when they were both seven and Jade had—bullhorn and hand-printed flyers in hand—announced the stand’s grand opening.
118
Beneath the Surface
She’d gotten the bug and been hooked ever since, hadn’t yet regretted a moment in the business, loved working in an arena where her gifts for persuasion were rewarded and respected.
Lately, though, she wondered if perhaps EJ had had the right idea when he’d gotten out.
He certainly seemed happy enough these days, on the road pushing his bestseller and pushing up on Ms. Tabitha Lyons when he wasn’t on the road she was sure.
She didn’t know what little Ms. Uptight had that she or any of EJ’s other past women didn’t, didn’t know what made her special enough for EJ to rebuff
her
advances, except perhaps her resemblance to Sinclair in that dark, tragic, naive damsel in distress sort of way.
Hell, it had been so obvious he had been thinking about another woman the last time Jade had been with him, and the only reason Jade knew the woman in question had been Ms. Lyons was her memory of the way EJ had acted when Jade had come onto him after his precious personal shopper had left.
She’d never seen him so absorbed with one woman, unless it was her, and the thought that she no longer held that place of distinction and honor in his life pissed her off almost as much as not getting off when an available and willing cock was in the vicinity.
“Hey Jade, I’m going out to get a quick bite. You want something?”
She glanced up to see one of the agency’s programmers, Jeff Dudikoff, a bright young thing who’d just joined the company eight weeks ago and during one of the busiest seasons of any large ad agency right before the holidays.
Jade was surprised he seemed so amiable and upbeat this late in the day.
Her delay in getting the layout to her art director would surely put a crimp in any holiday plans Jeff had since his schedule was directly affected by the speed of work coming from his superiors, one of which was her.
She pulled a twenty out of her purse and handed it to Jeff when he crossed the floor to her desk. “Whatever you’re getting.”
“You’re taking a risk.”
She glanced up and noted a stud in his left nostril and left eyebrow, the several rings and studs lining each of his ears, the long sandy-blond hair, the shaggy-like whiskers, and the black polish on his fingernails.
He was a typical creative, an essential cog and the lifeblood of any ad agency, but so low on the totem pole and kept far away from the clients that it almost didn’t matter how he looked or dressed as long as he could bear the heavy workload of generating completed products.
Jade noticed his grin and dark-blue eyes, that he had the most entrancing dimples she’d seen this side of EJ Vega.
119
Gracie C. McKeever
He was kind of young at twenty-three, and normally blondes didn’t do anything for her, but he was alluring enough to make her pussy tighten inside the crotch of her dress-down black pinstripe slacks wondering how he’d be in bed. Just to take the edge off of EJ’s latest rebuffs.
At least until her next campaign. Because the competition wouldn’t nearly be over until she got Ms. Uptight Personal Shopper out of the way and claimed EJ as her own once again.
* * * *
Dinner and seconds was a near-distant memory, everyone happily full and indulging in calorie-burning endeavors, like EJ’s Mom who’d gone out for a walk with two of his sisters, while the rest of the women cleaned the kitchen—or lounging like satiated conquering Vikings enjoying the spoils of their latest raid.
EJ had spent the beginning of the day before dinner recounting tales of his life on the road, trying to convince his nieces and nephews that no, he didn’t know Stephen King or John Grisham, while appeasing their curiosity of what it was like to be a “big time author.”
Angie’s son Vincent especially had been interested in his bestselling status, was trying to sell his parents on sending him to art school and using his uncle as an example that great success could be achieved in the creative arts.
EJ sheepishly tried to keep the peace between the boy and his parents, convincing him to at least study for a more stable career as a backup in case the art thing didn’t work out.
Angie flopped down on their Mom’s country floral sofa in the family room now and ruffled EJ’s hair as their dad, brother and her sons stretched and went in search of more snacks during the commercial break.
“Thanks for what you did earlier with Vince.”
He chuckled. “What kind of responsible self-respecting uncle would I be if I didn’t try to steer him down the straight and narrow?”
“He really does look up to you.”
“I look up to his mother.” EJ leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek.
“So, how are things going with Tabitha?”
“Wow, you let dinner and two football games go by before you dug in with that one.”
“You are such a wise-ass.” She playfully punched his ribs. “Well?”
“Who says anything’s going with Tabitha, Ms. Matchmaker?”
“What have you done?”
120
Beneath the Surface
Damn, there was just no hiding anything from the woman, and EJ doubted that he’d be able to hide anything from her even if she wasn’t gifted. Angela was too intuitive, and too damn nosy to let anything like a busted relationship that she’d initiated get by her.
“I haven’t done anything.” At least that’s what he’d managed to convince himself of during the last twenty-four hours. What else could he do? He had to stand by his decision, didn’t he? Except when he thought of her—the bewildered look on her face, her surprise when he’d walked out—he wondered if walking out had been the right thing to do at all.
“Don’t lie to me, EJ. I know you’ve done something to ruin it.”
“What makes you think it’s me and not her?” He crossed his arms over his chest in a childishly stubborn and defensive gesture that usually made Angela more tenacious and determined to get to the truth than not.
“Don’t be such a spoiled brat. Own up to a mistake if you’ve made one.”
Did she have to know him so well?
Angela laughed at the disgruntled expression on his face as their brother Nick came back into the room bearing three bottles of Heineken.
He took a seat beside Angela sandwiching her between himself and EJ. He handed two beers to her and Angela passed the extra one to EJ.
“Thanks bro,” Angela and EJ chorused.
“She trying to fix you up with another of Freddie’s friends?”
“For your information, I’ve already fixed him up with his soul mate.”
“Do I hear wedding bells in the distance?” Nick cupped a hand around an ear and laughed before tipping his bottle to his lips and taking a long swallow.
“Not if he doesn’t take what’s wrong and make it right.”
“Oh, shit, guru-sis is at it again.” Nick shook his head. “I’m glad it’s you she’s after this time and not me, bro.”
“I’m not after anyone. I just want to see my little brothers and sisters happy.”
Angela reached out to ruffle each of their fluffy dark heads, stood and glanced at EJ.
“Remember what I said. Make things right.” Then she left the family room.
“What the hell is Obi Won going on about this time?”
EJ shrugged, morosely sipped his beer before putting his bottle on the mahogany coffee table in front of the sofa.
Once again, his sister had struck the heart of the matter, and left him feeling as if he were a rebellious teenager who refused to do his chores or homework, except his refusal to apologize to Tabitha wasn’t as simple or easy, especially when his mind was clouded with suspicion.
121
Gracie C. McKeever
Before Tabitha, he hadn’t realized he had a jealous bone in his body, and if that guy hadn’t walked in the other night and interrupted them, he might never have realized it, happily going about his business thinking he was invincible and too easygoing to care.
Frankie’s arrival changed all that.
He didn’t think there was anything other than sisterly love between them on Tabitha’s part. EJ had felt no passion in her for the guy, seen no overt signs of a sexual relationship and refused to believe that Tabitha would lead himself on with her words and her body the way she’d been, if she were serious about, or living with someone else. Call him a male chauvinist but he didn’t imagine the woman promiscuous enough to do that, too chaste and principled to juggle more than one guy.
But the simple truth was his judgment was clouded with desire. As much as he tried and wanted to read her, EJ knew next to nothing about Tabitha Lyons except that he wanted to get inside her so badly he hadn’t been able to function right the last couple of days thinking about it, and as far as Frankie was concerned, the only thing he knew for sure about him was that the man was in love with Tabitha; he’d recognized this as soon as he’d shaken Frankie’s hand. This alone had him doubting any familial relationship and doubting Tabitha’s words.
But who was he to doubt anyone, or begrudge Frankie his feelings when he was only in lust with Tabitha himself and promising nothing more than enjoyable and passionate several rolls in the sack that might or might not lead to anything more than he and Tabitha being friends?
More like enemies if Tabitha had anything to say about it because despite her big bad bold act, he knew she was too uptight not to take serious anything that happened between them, too passionate not to want all or nothing. Once she opened up and gave her trust, there would be no turning back for Ms. Lyons.
EJ had already made a commitment to open her up for him, to him, right from the beginning, and had no intentions on turning back either. Hell, he knew
she
wouldn’t apologize, and when he got right down to it, he needed to swallow his hot-headed Italian pride, go over there, do a rendition of
American Idol’s
Ruben Studdard’s
Sorry For 2004