Wicked Beat
Page 64

He hugged her again. “I missed you. Did I tell you that yet?”
“Yeah. I missed you too.” It wasn’t a lie. She had missed him. But as he held her, she realized she’d never really loved him. At least not romantically. Her feelings were the same as they’d always been. That of a really close friend. A friend she could count on to be there for her no matter what. Isaac was her best friend, but they weren’t meant to be lovers. She knew that now. Now that she had Eric, she could tell the difference.
Rebekah pulled away from Isaac’s embrace and smiled, knowing everything was as it should be. They weren’t meant to be together as a couple, but they meant too much to each other to be kept apart. She was really glad to see him, and that was okay. It wasn’t a betrayal of her feelings for Eric, because they weren’t the same feelings she had for Isaac. Realizing that was such a huge relief, she couldn’t help but beam at Isaac. “Tell me all about Africa,” she said and took a seat at the counter to listen to him talk about his adventures while he chopped vegetables for their salad. Her admiration grew as he told her about all the people he’d helped while living under abysmal conditions in the bush.
“So the baby survived?” she asked, her eyes wide with wonder.
Isaac nodded. “There was another woman in the village who had lost her baby to cholera, so she took the newborn as her own. I wish I could have saved the mother too, but the crocodile had done too much damage to her spine, and I lost her on the table.”
Rebekah’s vision blurred with tears. “That’s so horrible,” she said. “And you. You are absolutely wonderful, Isaac.”
A sudden intake of breath alerted her to Eric’s presence. He looked like someone had punched him in the stomach. “Eric,” she said. “Come here. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
***
Eric had wondered who the too-attractive-to-be-believed man was. Rebekah was hanging on his every word like she’d been struck dumb by his charm and charisma. When she’d said his name—Isaac—and called him absolutely wonderful, Eric was certain his soul had been sucked from his body. And now Rebekah wanted Eric to meet the guy? No, thank you.
“I was looking for the can,” Eric said. A lie, but he in no way wanted to be anywhere near Dr. Perfect over there.
“I’m sure you can hold it for a minute,” Rebekah said. She hopped off the stool and took his hand before he could flee the kitchen.
“Eric, this is Isaac. A dear, dear friend.”
Isaac looked none too happy to be called her friend. Eric extended his hand. “I’m Eric, Rebekah’s very possessive boyfriend.”
Isaac’s eyes widened.
“And lover,” Eric added. “We get it on constantly.”
Isaac’s tan face paled several shades, but he took Eric’s hand and shook it cordially.
“Eric,” Rebekah chastised. “There is such a thing as need-to-know information, and that definitely wasn’t it.” She giggled, but didn’t deny his claim. Eric felt marginally better.
Rebekah’s mother bustled into the kitchen. “Rebekah, help me mash those potatoes,” she said. “Isaac, would you get the roast out of the oven? I need to get the biscuits in.”
“Sure.” Isaac put on a pair of oven mitts and headed for the oven.
“Can I do anything to help?” Eric asked, his heart thudding. Rebekah’s mother scared the shit out of him.
“Don’t be silly. You’re a guest. Go sit down with Bill and Dave until dinner is ready.”
“Isaac’s a guest too,” Rebekah reminded her mother.
Mrs. B offered Isaac a one-armed hug as he struggled not to drop the roast. “Don’t be ridiculous, Rebekah. Isaac is family. Just set that on the stove, dear.”
Isaac set the roast on the stove.
Eric watched Rebekah drain the potatoes and start whipping them with a mixer. Mrs. B cut biscuits from dough and arranged them on a baking sheet. Isaac took it upon himself to carve the roast. They did look like a family. Something Eric had never had, but had always wanted. He wouldn’t be getting one now either it seemed.
Dave bumped the door open with his wheelchair. “Come on, Sticks. I need help setting the table.” Dave pulled plates and bowls from a china cabinet and set them on his immobile legs.
Eric smiled, grateful for a task.
“David Adam Blake, don’t ask Rebekah’s guest to do your work,” Mrs. B said.
“I don’t mind,” Eric insisted.
“Go sit down in the living room,” Mrs. B said.
Eric had no choice but to obey.
Father Blake, or Bill, as he insisted Eric call him, looked up from his war movie when Eric sat in the empty recliner beside him. “Did you get shooed out of the kitchen?”
Eric nodded. “Apparently I’m a guest, but Isaac is family.”
Bill chuckled. “Isaac is family.” He patted Eric’s forearm. “Great kid. He’s a doctor, you know.”
“Yeah, Reb mentioned that.”
“He just got back from Africa. He said taking over his father’s practice could wait a year. Wanted to go where people needed him most. You don’t come across many men as selfless as Isaac in this day and age.”
True, but Eric still hated him.
“Dinner’s ready!” Mrs. B called.
Eric rose to his feet. Mrs. B steered him to the end of the table. “Guests get the seat of honor,” she said.
Eric sat at the far end of the long table, and Bill sat at the opposite end. A chair had been removed from the side of the table to accommodate Dave’s wheelchair, and his mother sat beside him. That left Rebekah and Isaac to sit next to each other. The dinner was delicious, but though Eric ate everything on his plate, he scarcely tasted it.
Everyone was so enthusiastic for Isaac’s tales of Africa, which were amusing and heroic. Eric couldn’t deny it. He felt like an unwanted outsider. Rebekah scarcely glanced at him the entire meal. She was too busy laughing with and fawning over Isaac, who was so f**king charming, it was nauseating. When Isaac started passing around pictures of himself treating the sick and wounded in some village in the Congo, Eric said all the appropriate things, but his heart sank. How could he compete with that? He’d never done anything remotely honorable. After dinner, Mrs. B brought out a cheesecake smothered in cherries.
“I know it’s your favorite,” she said, beaming at Isaac as she served him a huge slice.