Beneath the Surface by Gracie C. McKeever Read Free Book Online

hormones get the better of her and mixed business with pleasure and thought she could play the no-strings-attached game with the big boys.
    She regretted the way she’d treated Michael while in her new and not necessarily improved, selfish mindset, hadn’t enjoyed playing against her nature for the short time she was with him. She’d decided if she couldn’t win the game of love and romance her way, then she’d rather not play it at all, unprepared to compromise her principles of commitment just for the sake of scoring a hard dick and available male body.
    How she’d handled Michael after this epiphany had been the biggest mistake she’d made in her twenty-eight-year-old life, and she didn’t intend to make it again.
    Tabitha clutched her leather satchel close to her middle as she drifted towards the entertainment center, drawn by all the similar faces smiling out at her from the shelves, bodies poised in varying degrees of relaxation and formality.
    She saw Evelyn’s familiar face peeking at her from one group shot that also showed Eric surrounded by several kids as well as his own brother and sisters.
    She smiled at their expressions—Eric’s playfully harried, and Evelyn’s supremely sisterly and aunt-like.
    Everyone looked happy. More than happy. They looked serene, at peace with themselves and each other and comfortable in the knowledge that they would always have each other.
    “Evie must have mentioned the lot of us to you.”
    Tabitha started again, then nodded as she turned to see him behind her, patting his face and chest dry with a towel before he flung it to land on the bike handle several feet away.
    He had the most disconcerting habit of sneaking up on her and it was starting to catch up with her more than she wanted to admit.
    At least he could have exercised the common decency it would have taken him to put on a shirt and cover up those hard, glistening, bronzed pecs and abs, for Christ’s sake.
    What ever happened to the sedentary lifestyle writers purportedly led? From the look of Eric, evidently, it was an urban myth.
    Tabitha didn’t feel she had the right to mention his state of undress, especially in his own house, despite her momentary discomfort, despite the fact that they had an appointment and he hadn’t seemed to remember until she’d shown up at his door a couple of minutes ago.
    “Are you like Freud and have several of the same pantsuit in your closet at home?”

    26
    Beneath the Surface
    She glanced at him, saw the grin as he eyed her outfit—a sensible gray tweed pantsuit and a black turtleneck beneath—and knew she wasn’t going to like the next words out of his mouth unless she stopped him from saying them first. “We’re not here to analyze my fashion choices, Eric. We’re here to analyze yours.”
    His eyebrows shot up, a mischievous gleam lighting his eyes as he bowed at the waist and made a sweeping gesture with his hands. “Analyze away, ma’am. My closet awaits.”
    She followed him, passing the green leather sectional and entertainment center towards a large bedroom to their left, paused on the threshold immediately engulfed by the scent of him—a combination of sandalwood, citrus aftershave, shower gel and shampoo all blending into the potent masculine cocktail that was Eric.
    She glanced around and took in the full effect of the color scheme, could feel him in every bold stroke of paint, versatile traditional wood furniture, the walls and fixtures a comfy combination of blues and browns. “I like it,” she stated.
    “Glad to hear it.” He sidled past her and opened up the door to what she thought was another room, but was actually a walk-in closet. “It’s all yours.”
    She wandered closer, not knowing what to expect where Eric was concerned, still surprised by the scarcity she found.
    Wow, Adonis had an Achilles’ heel!
    Tabitha had never met anyone with so little fashion sense. The man had a Hawaiian shirt hanging in his closet, always a fashion