her?
No way! She was only what? Five-five, maybe five-six tops and at a hundred-and-thirty pounds? A deadly combination of toned muscles and voluptuous curves sure, but smaller than his six-three, almost two hundred pounds by far. He could handle her.
I can handle him okay.
EJ swallowed as Evelyn leaned in at the door to peck him on the cheek.
“You be nice to her.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“I trust you fine. It’s your libido that’s suspect.”
“You leave me and my libido alone.”
Evelyn giggled, fidgeting with the strap of her bag for a moment.
EJ peered at her—stomach dipping at the look on her face—and impulsively broke a cardinal rule for him: lowered his shields to scan her thoughts. Just a brief mental touch, lightly brushing the surface of her mind to see what had her uncharacteristically on edge.
30
Beneath the Surface
He’d suspected all along Evelyn had had an ulterior motive behind this whole makeover business, and he was sure Angela, the family’s self-professed matchmaker, was in on the plot too.
Glimpses of them at Angie’s kitchen table, Tabitha’s name coming up in conjunction with his, vague images of a sisterly pact.
Evelyn shifted her weight, her restlessness confirming what he’d just seen, what he’d just felt. Nothing close to guilt—his sister had little self-blame in her, unapologetic for the life she led or the things she did with her family in mind—but he definitely felt her uneasiness.
He wanted to read her but good, almost regretted that he hadn’t probed her when she’d first come to him with her personal shopper suggestion but for the fact that it had brought Tabitha Lyons into his world and into his bedroom.
What was done was done. He couldn’t change it even if he wanted to.
But neither would he let Evelyn completely off the hook for her prying.
“You’ve pulled some elaborate schemes through the years to hook me up, Evie, but this is over the top even for you.”
Evelyn blinked. “What scheme?”
“Tabitha. Me. You and Angela behind the scenes.”
He saw the slight shake of her hand as she clutched her bag, knew he’d hit his mark before his sister rebounded with her usual unmitigated flair.
“Don’t be paranoid. You needed a personal shopper—”
“So you said.”
“And I introduced you to one.”
“Hmph.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
Evelyn stared at him, her uncertainty clear in the unusual brightness of her hazel eyes. “You’re not going to do anything rash, are you?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“EJ…”
“I’ll be nice to her. It’s not her fault I’ve got two buddinsky sisters.”
Evelyn sighed with relief. “I’m glad you’re being so reasonable about this.” She leaned in to give him another peck on the cheek as if to secure his assurance before she stepped into the hallway. “Love you.”
“Don’t think I won’t get you two back for this.” EJ grinned and closed the door after her.
31
Gracie C. McKeever
Chapter 4
Tabitha stood in front of his closet extracting and examining each piece of clothing, appraising its worth and assessing its salvagability before putting it back to go on to the next piece.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. She’d found some gems during her search. Deep in the bowels of the closet, including several vintage Oxford shirts in solid shades of light blue and white, and two double-breasted blazers—one olive, one navy—
designer pieces at that, and apparel she expected to find in the closet of a former Madison Avenue ad man.
Where had all his stuff gone? Surely he’d had more dressy outfits than what was here?
Tabitha put back the last piece, withdrew from the closet and closed the door, feeling momentarily disoriented standing in his large masculine bedroom.
She wandered over to the king size four poster bed, ran a hand over a mahogany knob, surprised to find such a quaint piece of furniture in the house of a comparative playboy, until she
No way! She was only what? Five-five, maybe five-six tops and at a hundred-and-thirty pounds? A deadly combination of toned muscles and voluptuous curves sure, but smaller than his six-three, almost two hundred pounds by far. He could handle her.
I can handle him okay.
EJ swallowed as Evelyn leaned in at the door to peck him on the cheek.
“You be nice to her.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“I trust you fine. It’s your libido that’s suspect.”
“You leave me and my libido alone.”
Evelyn giggled, fidgeting with the strap of her bag for a moment.
EJ peered at her—stomach dipping at the look on her face—and impulsively broke a cardinal rule for him: lowered his shields to scan her thoughts. Just a brief mental touch, lightly brushing the surface of her mind to see what had her uncharacteristically on edge.
30
Beneath the Surface
He’d suspected all along Evelyn had had an ulterior motive behind this whole makeover business, and he was sure Angela, the family’s self-professed matchmaker, was in on the plot too.
Glimpses of them at Angie’s kitchen table, Tabitha’s name coming up in conjunction with his, vague images of a sisterly pact.
Evelyn shifted her weight, her restlessness confirming what he’d just seen, what he’d just felt. Nothing close to guilt—his sister had little self-blame in her, unapologetic for the life she led or the things she did with her family in mind—but he definitely felt her uneasiness.
He wanted to read her but good, almost regretted that he hadn’t probed her when she’d first come to him with her personal shopper suggestion but for the fact that it had brought Tabitha Lyons into his world and into his bedroom.
What was done was done. He couldn’t change it even if he wanted to.
But neither would he let Evelyn completely off the hook for her prying.
“You’ve pulled some elaborate schemes through the years to hook me up, Evie, but this is over the top even for you.”
Evelyn blinked. “What scheme?”
“Tabitha. Me. You and Angela behind the scenes.”
He saw the slight shake of her hand as she clutched her bag, knew he’d hit his mark before his sister rebounded with her usual unmitigated flair.
“Don’t be paranoid. You needed a personal shopper—”
“So you said.”
“And I introduced you to one.”
“Hmph.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
Evelyn stared at him, her uncertainty clear in the unusual brightness of her hazel eyes. “You’re not going to do anything rash, are you?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“EJ…”
“I’ll be nice to her. It’s not her fault I’ve got two buddinsky sisters.”
Evelyn sighed with relief. “I’m glad you’re being so reasonable about this.” She leaned in to give him another peck on the cheek as if to secure his assurance before she stepped into the hallway. “Love you.”
“Don’t think I won’t get you two back for this.” EJ grinned and closed the door after her.
31
Gracie C. McKeever
Chapter 4
Tabitha stood in front of his closet extracting and examining each piece of clothing, appraising its worth and assessing its salvagability before putting it back to go on to the next piece.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. She’d found some gems during her search. Deep in the bowels of the closet, including several vintage Oxford shirts in solid shades of light blue and white, and two double-breasted blazers—one olive, one navy—
designer pieces at that, and apparel she expected to find in the closet of a former Madison Avenue ad man.
Where had all his stuff gone? Surely he’d had more dressy outfits than what was here?
Tabitha put back the last piece, withdrew from the closet and closed the door, feeling momentarily disoriented standing in his large masculine bedroom.
She wandered over to the king size four poster bed, ran a hand over a mahogany knob, surprised to find such a quaint piece of furniture in the house of a comparative playboy, until she
Similar Books
