Beneath the Surface (39 page)

Tabitha was deeply asleep beside him.

He turned to stare at her for a long silent moment, the idea of waking her making his fingers itch until he realized how much he enjoyed watching her girlish features relaxed in slumber.

God she looked so soft and vulnerable! He loved her so much he didn’t know what to do with himself, and now after last night his secret was out.

EJ got out of bed as quietly as he could, tried not to let the fact that she hadn’t returned his I-love-you bother him. The notion that she didn’t reciprocate his feelings a weight pressing on his chest, a lance piercing his heart with a pain he hadn’t felt as sharply since Sinclair’s death.

He swallowed hard as he cut on the light in the kitchen.

227

Gracie C. McKeever

He’d make breakfast, get his mind off of the omission, think about how she’d looked when she’d opened his Christmas gift, think about how to make her look like that every day of her life with him.

However long that lasts.

He wanted it to be forever, as unrealistic as that duration appeared, especially with someone as wounded and unpredictable as was Tabitha Lyons.

EJ shut off his maudlin thoughts and went on autopilot as he got out the ingredients he’d need to make a filling and tasty breakfast.

An hour later Tabitha came into the kitchen clad in one of his university T-shirts, a blue NYU number that reached a couple of inches above her knees and gave him a delicious peek of copper, toned thighs.

The image of those thighs wrapped around his waist, imprisoning and squeezing him tight nearly knocked the breath out of him.

As it was, EJ had to close his eyes tight and take a deep breath as she padded across the floor on bare feet, leaned up on her toes to kiss a cheek.

“I know I’ve got a serious case of bed head, but it’s not that bad, is it?”

He opened his eyes to leer at her. “You’ve never looked sexier. Or more edible.”

She chuckled, gave him a lingering kiss on the lips and said, “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year to you.”

She stood on her tiptoes to peek over his shoulder and see what was cooking.

“Ooh, pancakes. Much more edible than me.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I wonder if they’re as good as my French toast.”

“Do I hear a challenge? Because we could have a cook-off right here, oven mitts off.”

“I like a man who takes his cooking so seriously.” She glanced at the marble island where a stack of fluffy pancakes was in a serving platter next to a plate of bacon and sausages.

“You don’t cook like this often, do you? Because if so, we’re going to have to start working on lowering your cholesterol and fat intake and soon.”

His heartstrings jerked at the allusion to them being together for any length of time. “You plan on being around long enough to see the results?” he asked. He couldn’t help himself and almost regretted his words at the traumatized look on her face. Almost.

“I do.”

He frowned, purposely dense, staring at her until she elaborated.

“I plan on being around to see the results. That is, if you want me to be.”

228

Beneath the Surface

EJ gritted his teeth, angry with her for dancing around the issue, angry with himself for letting her.

He needed to be a man, just lay his cards on the table like he had already laid his heart.

Tabitha almost instantly soothed his ego, calming his stormy thoughts when she sidled behind him, put her arms around his waist and leaned a cheek on his back a moment before he turned from the stove, holding the last pan of pancakes aloft. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, Eric. I don’t want you to—”

“Have a heart attack like my father?”

She nodded as she released him and stepped back.

EJ flipped the finished pancakes onto the batch on the island and turned to face her again. “I don’t plan on it.”

“I know you don’t plan on it but things happen.”

“I had a clean bill of health my last physical four months ago, and my cholesterol is a healthy one-sixty-five in case you’re wondering.”

“I should have known you’d know the numbers. I think you were an accountant in another life, Eric.”

He chuckled and hugged her. “What about you?”

“A pretty healthy one-seventy-five.”

“Hmm, we’re going to have to work on lowering that a little, just to be safe.”

She cut her eyes at the breakfast on the island. “Not with meals like this.”

“I don’t eat like this often, in answer to your earlier question.”

“That’s good to know.”

They separated and silently took seats at the island adjacent each other.

“You’re beginning to sound like my sister,” he said.

“Angela?”

He nodded.

“She is rather protective of you.”

“You can say the word. It’s
over
protective, and yes she is.”

Tabitha giggled as she helped herself to a few pancakes and a couple of bacon strips while EJ related how Angela and Evelyn had run out onto the field during one of his Pee Wee League games when the pitcher had clocked him in the head with a ball high and inside.

Tabitha doubled over hysterically laughing as he described how his father and other siblings had to run out onto the field and pull Angela and Evelyn away from the poor kid.

229

Gracie C. McKeever

When she’d caught her breath she looked at him, face solemn. “Your family is so close.”

“We are.” He waited for her to fill in with something about hers, just any little tidbit to feed his curiosity and she surprised him when she said, “I guess you know I’m not. Close to my family that is.”

“I guessed.”

She was silent for along time, eyes averted before she looked at him again. “You might as well know my father—or the man I knew as my father—left home when I was about eight. My mother abandoned me in a bus station shortly thereafter.”

He waited as long as he could for the rest, knew that there was more, but couldn’t let on that he knew, and didn’t want to discourage her from sharing the part of herself he’d been needing her to share. Finally he gave in and said, “You said the man you knew as your father. I’m guessing he wasn’t really.”

“My mother…God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I’ve never told anyone…”

He caught a free hand and squeezed, urging her to go on as his heart squeezed in his chest, urging him to share more than the I-love-you he already had.

“My mother married my dad when she found out she was pregnant, pushed me off as his. My biological father was, or is, some rock musician she…screwed backstage after a concert, and the result was
moi
.”

Oh, God, it was coming together. His comment about wanting to be a rock star, how she’d suddenly turned cool when he’d asked her to be his groupie. “You never knew him at all?” He had such a big immediate and extended family the idea that she didn’t know half of her heritage, where she came from, was inconceivable to him.

She shook her head. “My mother was, uh…is, since I guess she hasn’t been cured, a manic depressive, what we know as bipolar affective disorder.”

“That must have been rough on you.”

She shrugged. “It made for a pretty unpredictable and colorful childhood . At least when she was around and not on one of her many trips and sprees. She disappeared a lot when I was little. Before that final disappearance.”

He wanted to tell her that he’d never leave her like that, that he’d never disappear but the words clogged in his throat.

“So, now you know.”

Like these few facts made up her entire life story, but at least it was a start. He could work with it. They could work with it. “Now I know.”

She searched his face as if for support or contempt and he wasn’t sure which she thought she’d find, or which he transmitted, tried to make his expression as neutral as possible.

“Would you like to come with me to the hospital to visit my father? Unless you have other plans?” He automatically slid down his shields anticipating her response.

230

Beneath the Surface

“Of course I’ll come with you. What other plans would I have?”

He caught the unspoken
besides being with the man I love
and instantly, but far too late to matter, slid up his shields.

EJ swallowed hard at the idea of his treachery, having invaded her privacy yet again. but damn it had been worth it to know how she felt, that he wasn’t drifting alone in a sea of emotions, that he wasn’t alone in the world with his feelings. How was he ever going to tell her about himself now?

231

Gracie C. McKeever

Tabitha didn’t know what to do with herself surrounded by so much warmth and concern and natural affection. She should have been used to it by now having spent so much time with Eric’s family, but she didn’t think she’d ever get used to Emilia’s bright, ever-present smile, Donna’s sarcastic wit, Angela’s protectiveness for each and every one of her younger siblings, or her ability to read everyone’s needs and thoughts in an instant, and Nick and Evelyn’s outspoken opinions that made Eric’s honesty pale in comparison.

Actually, the entire Vega clan suffered from the latter, along with a healthy dose of affection of which the family had been unconditionally showering her with different levels from hugs and kisses upon greetings and departures, to careless touches on the arm or back during idle chit-chat. She was so unused to the closeness, the touching she was starting to feel like she was a weirdo and an ingrate, but couldn’t stop her claustrophobia around them.

Tabitha was currently on a break, down at the floor’s vending machine getting a few cans of soda for the family and taking her time before returning.

She was ashamed of herself for her cowardice, but every time Angela or Viviana glanced at her they reminded her of Eric’s declaration and all the things she could have said to him, but hadn’t. Reminded her of all the things she could have with him if she were just honest and told him how she felt.

Tabitha made her way back to the waiting room where Eric and his mother and siblings had been gathered since ten this morning, almost four hours ago.

She handed Viviana, Donna and Angela the sodas that they’d requested and took the empty seat next to Eric.

He immediately put an arm around her, kissing her temple as he squeezed her arm, making her feel wanted and missed.

232

Beneath the Surface

She realized that was a Vega trait, too. At least one they’d exhibited in abundance with her, making her feel welcomed whenever she arrived and that she’d be missed when she left.

“No news yet?” she asked for lack of anything else to say.

“Nah, not yet.”

“We’re going down for a smoke,” Evelyn announced as she and Nick stood from their seats and headed for the elevators.

Tabitha followed them with her eyes, for once wished she had the vice if only to get her out of the room, afraid of having to be a solid column of strength if bad news came down from the doctor.

Sheesh, you’re a pessimist!

She wasn’t even prepared for good news, couldn’t conceive of it, though she hoped and prayed with everyone else, for a positive outcome.

“Are you okay?” Eric asked.

“I should be asking you that.” She glanced at him, twined her fingers through his, enjoying the warmth of his hand, the lifeblood pumping through his veins next to hers.

She had so much on the tip of her tongue, so much she wanted to say to him but old mistrust and fear kept her mute.

She used to think she was fearless, at least where making decisions in her life was concerned, but since she’d met Eric, especially since last night, she feared everything about their relationship, especially the feelings he evoked. She feared their unknown future together, and she feared a future alone and bereft of his easy humor and positive outlook. She feared his love and the burden it had placed on her the minute he’d said the magical three words. She feared the burden her own feelings placed on her, growing heavier and heavier by the day.

Why not relieve herself and tell him?

Because she knew in her heart that the repercussions of letting out all those emotions would be far more than detrimental to her well-being and the health of the relationship than keeping it to herself. Surely telling him would be so much easier than keeping everything in, restraining herself like she’d been doing since she was a little girl.

Holding in her fear, her love, her trust because there was no one in her orbit that deserved them, much more who wanted them.

The doctor came into the waiting room then and everyone was instantly on his or her feet.

The scrubs-clad young man barely looked as old as her, but Tabitha was immediately comforted by the slight smile on his lips.

He made a beeline straight to Viviana, put a gentle hand on her shoulder and told her how her husband’s surgery had gone. “He did very well, Mrs. Vega. We’ll be bringing him from Recovery soon and you’ll be able to visit with him for a little while 233

Gracie C. McKeever

but not too long. He needs to rest up and build his strength so that he can leave in a few days.”

Viviana grabbed one of the man’s hands with both of hers and vigorously shook it as she thanked him for his efforts and time.

Nick and Evelyn came back into the room as the doctor was leaving, joined their brother and sisters to gather around and hug their mother.

Tabitha stood just outside their circle, her heart in her throat and tears in her eyes, more thankful and relieved than she could ever remember being.

The circle broke and Eric automatically went to her, pulled her into his arms and kissed her on the lips. He pulled away after a moment to stare at her. “What are you doing over here?”

“Just thinking.”

“Pretty hard from the looks of it.” He frowned, pulled her close again. “He’s going to be okay.” He murmured it as if to reassure himself.

“How could he be anything but with all of us in his corner praying for him?”

“Were you?”

“Was I what?”