by Lori Leger
Tex stared at the figure on the screen, noting that, although she wasn’t model thin, thank God, she was shapely, which was fine with him. Even as a younger man, Tex had preferred his women with a little extra meat on their bones. Squeezing something soft and pliant was a hell of a lot more of a turn on than trying to hold a brittle bag of skin and bones. Some of those freaking runway models were downright scary looking, in his opinion. “I can’t see her face from here.” Meagan touched the screen with two fingers to zoom in before turning the phone his direction. He took it from her to study the face of the woman with long reddish, curly locks and big green eyes, staring back at him. “Nice. What’s the story with her? Why is someone who looks like that single?”
Mitch rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a long handled basting brush. “Her husband dumped her for another woman, and honestly? The only thing I can figure is that she wouldn’t lower her standards enough to make him happy. The dude seems to like his women a little on the trashy side.”
“And she’s definitely not trashy; I can vouch for her,” Meagan added, hurriedly.
Tex studied them both before giving a slow nod. “Okay, but if her laugh sounds like a jackass braying, or she farts in her sleep or something—” He pointed a long finger at Mitch. “I’m going to kick your ass, bro.”
Mitch raised his hands. “It wasn’t my idea, it was Meagan’s.”
Meagan gave a slight cough. “Wow. Thanks for having my back, babe.”
Mitch turned to her. “Did I, or did I not tell you this man didn’t like to be set up?”
“You did.”
“And I told you he’d be pissed, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did.”
“And I told you there was a possibility he’d want to kick my ass, didn’t I?” He continued at her nod. “Yet you insisted on inviting Aubrey without consulting him first, did you not?”
“Excuse me, but I do not need to get permission to invite someone into my own home.” She walked right up to Tex and stood there, with arms crossed and one hip cocked. “So, what, are you going to kick my ass now?”
Tex had to admire her sauciness. He couldn’t help but think that living with a roommate who possessed an abundance of the trait for so long, it was bound to rub off on her. God knows, nobody did saucy better than Nicole. Waves of regret washed over him—devastating, tsunami sized waves that, according to Megs, appeared too damn late to be of any assistance. Pushing aside the thought, he placed his large palm on Meagan’s head and gave her a gentle push, keeping his hand in place.
“Hey!” She started swinging playfully at Tex, her arms nowhere near long enough to reach him.
“Relax short-stuff. No real man ever hits a woman, especially with her crazy-ass fiancé standing watch like some kind of rabid, pit-bull bodyguard. Something tells me if anyone ever laid a hand on you, including me, size wouldn’t matter one damn bit.”
Meagan stopped swinging and threw a wink in Tex’s direction before turning to Mitch. “You see, babe? I told you size doesn’t matter.”
Tex bellowed with laughter as Mitchell’s jaw dropped open in shock. “You know that’s a load of crap, right?”
Tex only laughed harder.
Mitch turned to Meagan. “Okay, tell him you were joking.”
Meagan grinned at Tex before giving Mitch a brief nod. “Go ahead, Marine. Throw me under the bus again like you did a minute ago.” She walked out of the room, fist bumping Tex on the way out. “Like the man said. Don’t mess with Texas, baby.”
Tex wiped tears of laughter from his eyes as he finally caught his breath enough to speak. “She burned you, man. She burned you good.”
Before Mitch could come up with an adequate comeback, Buck came bounding into the room with all the energy of an unleashed puppy.
“Uncle Tex! It’s going to be a whole new yeaw, tomowwo.”
Tex lifted the four year old, resting him on his hip. “Hey man, look at you. You’re growing like the weeds in my grandma’s back pasture.”
Buck gave him an exaggerated nod. “Mama says she’s going to hafta buy me new pants soon, cause all mine aw going to look like high-wataw pants.”
“That’s a fact. I can see those pants rising up your leg right now.” Tex grabbed the hem of the boy’s pants leg and gave it a gentle tug.
“Yep, being on crutches didn’t put a stall in his growth spurt, that’s for sure. Next thing you know, he’ll be as tall as me.” Mitch ruffled Buck’s hair then tickled his neck, setting the child off into a fit of giggling.
Tex spoke in an overloud whisper. “That ain’t saying too much, Buckaroo. How about you set your sights on growing as tall as your Uncle Tex, instead?”
Mitch laughed. “I think he lacks that particular gene of freakishly tall height in his chemical makeup.”
Tex reached out to lay a heavy hand on Mitchell’s shoulder. “It’s all right bro. We can’t all be descendants of Goliath or the prodigy of gods.”
“Yeah, some of us can actually walk through a door without ducking—”
“And don’t forget about getting your picture on that box of ‘magically delicious’ cereal, short stuff.”
“Oh, that is low, bro.”
Tex grinned. “Almost as low as your eye level.”
Meagan walked between them with an armload of towels on her way to the laundry room. “Are you boys still arguing over size?”
“I’m six foot tall. That is not short.”
“That’s a half a foot less than me.”
“Six inch difference—big deal.”
Meagan closed the laundry room door and stopped in front of her fiancé, hands on hips and biting her lower lip. Mitch crossed his arms and looked down his nose at her. “Don’t even think about it, Megs.”
“What’s it worth to you?”
He leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Tex couldn’t hear it, but whatever he said had her blushing to her hair follicles.
“No difference. No difference at all.” She giggled then let out a screech as Mitch sent her on her way with a firm slap to her behind.
Buck chortled gleefully. “Mitch spanked mama’s butt.”
Meagan turned with a gasp. “Christopher Buckley! That is not something to say.” She glared at Mitch, who at least had the good sense to assume a hangdog expression.
Tex’s chest rumbled with laughter as he set Buck down. He watched the boy run to his mama, pleading with her to go outside, then reduced his voice to a low murmur. “Speaking of genetics and DNA, anything new going on with him? Like, maybe more ghostly appearances of the dead paternal Marine in his bedroom?”
Mitch shook his head. “Not since he woke from his coma after the accident.”
Tex watched his friend’s face pale slightly. No doubt, he was revisiting the terror of seeing Buck thrown fifteen feet by a speeding car during trick or treating on Halloween night.
“Buck is still adamant about what happened. He says Chris told him he’d always be with him, even if he couldn’t actually see him anymore.”
“Strange happenings, man; the kid seeing his dad in that #8 Texans jersey, and holding a conversation with him.” Tex gave an involuntary shiver.
“And Chris telling him that he couldn’t pronounce his R’s either when he was his age.” Mitch straightened his spine suddenly. “It’s funny you should bring up DNA, though …” His voice trailed off as Meagan re-entered the room, apparently having heard the last of the conversation.
“We have bigger fish than that to fry now. Did Mitch tell you we got a letter from an attorney representing Chris’s parents?”
Tex couldn’t help but envy the references to the two of them as ‘we’ in her comments, even though her tone foretold of impending complications. “A lawyer?”
Her mouth twisted in a sardonic grin. “I know, right? They’ve spent years ignoring him, refusing to even consider he could be their grandson. Now they want to obtain evidence as to whether or not he is, in fact, their blood.”
&nb
sp; Tex frowned. “That’s kind of a ballsy move, and not in a good way, either.” He didn’t miss the unmistakable clench of Mitchell’s jaw as he moved closer to his girl, a sure sign of his protective instinct kicking in. “A word of advice? Don’t make a move without first retaining an attorney of your own.”
“I don’t want to bring lawyers into this, Tex. They’re Buck’s grandparents, and I know Chris would want them to be a part of his life.” Meagan glanced from Mitch, to Tex, then back up to Mitch. “Maybe this will be the thing to open up the line of communication between me and my parents as well.” She lifted her face for a kiss from her man. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see.” A grunt from Mitch accompanied her exit from the room.
Tex picked up two aprons from the counter, comparing them, and chose the more masculine of the two. He lengthened the adjustable neck strap and slipped it over his neck before tying it around his waist. “She’s entirely too forgiving. That sounds like trouble to me.” He followed Mitch out the back door to check on the pit. The sweet aroma of smoking meat infused with pecan wood clung heavily in the cold, crisp air.
“Don’t I know it. I’ve begged her to let me help in retaining someone. She refuses. She’s adamant that this is what Chris would want for his son—to know his grandparents—but I can’t trust anyone who can turn their backs on their own kids as easily as they did. It reeks of a need to control everything and everyone around them.”
“I agree with you. I’m sure Chris wants his parents to know and accept his son as their flesh and blood, but sure as hell not to take total control of his life. Considering her past experience with them, it seems to be the norm for those people.”
“Roger that, but I can’t make her see the danger in this situation. Ever since we got that letter, red flags have been popping up in my mind.” Mitch laid a fist on Tex’s shoulder. “Maybe you can help me persuade her before you leave to go home?”
Tex gave him a determined nod. “You know I’ll do anything I can to help.”
By 6:00 p.m., all of the guests had arrived. Tex got to see, with his own eyes, that those phone shots of Aubrey hadn’t done her justice. By 7:00, everyone had stuffed themselves with delicious southern barbeque, along with all the traditional fixings.
Serious vibes between Drake Leblanc, Mitch, and Meagan, caught Tex’s attention. He turned from his beautiful not-a-date to listen in on the conversation pertaining to the legal documentation their hostess had received. It hadn’t taken long for Drake to insist she not move a muscle without retaining an attorney, specifically him.
“I know this guy and his firm’s reputation, Meagan. They don’t mind playing dirty to get what they want. His only concern is winning the case for his clients in order to earn his high-end fee, no matter how dishonest or immoral their wishes are.”
Tex turned to the woman he’d had no trouble attaching himself to. Several minutes of conversation with Aubrey had revealed both intelligence and a keen sense of humor. The girl was a beautiful package of long-legged voluptuousness, with a little bit of plump in all the right places. Just what the doctor ordered to get over Nicole. He took a moment to question her quietly. “What’s your opinion of all this?”
Aubrey sipped from her wine glass and nodded. “I think Drake is absolutely correct. Meagan should be careful with this. I mean, think about it. They could have sent her a sincere correspondence from two people who wanted to get to know their grandson. Something that says they’re sorry for past judgments that lost them their only son. That isn’t a personal letter from concerned grandparents, it’s a legal threat. Thinly veiled for now, I think, but a threat, none the less.”
Tex turned back to his friends. “Meagan, let Drake represent you, hon. It’s better to be safe and prepared, than not and get shot in the back.”
Several different responses, all in agreement, came from the room’s occupants. Annie McAllister LeBlanc, Drake’s wife of nearly two years, placed her arm around Meagan’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry, Megs. My hubby is the best at what he does, and that will be to protect Buck. Please, I don’t think any of us in this room will be able to sleep if you don’t let him handle this.”
Meagan let her head fall back, issuing a long sigh. “Okay, even though I’m not convinced we need protecting from the Martins, though. I’ve known them all my life.”
“As you have your parents, but that didn’t stop the four of them from turning against you and Chris when you needed them most, did it?” Mitchell’s words, though Tex knew they hadn’t been intended to hurt her, seemed to hit home as she winced at their obvious truth.
“I know. I know you’re right, Mitch.” She looked around the room at her concerned guests. “You’re all right, and yes, Drake. I’d love it if you’d represent us. I still can’t help feeling sad about this. Why couldn’t they have picked up the phone and called? Or better yet, come to see us? I would have welcomed them.”
Mitch drew her in close to him with one arm. “I know, babe. I think that’s why the rest of us are all so pessimistic about their intentions. They chose this path over something much simpler. That translates to control.”
Tex’s stomach churned with an uneasy feeling that foretold of trouble for his two good friends. He watched as Mitch pulled Meagan closer, as though trying to shield her from all things harmful. Tex’s gaze clashed with his Marine brother’s, and they exchanged nods. Mitchell’s look of steely-eyed determination said it all.
God help anyone who tried to hurt Meagan or Buck.
The group of eight entered the club around 8:30 and headed for the roped off section at the corner of Red’s club, reserved for family and VIP guests of Red.
Tex pulled out a chair for Aubrey and seated her. “What are you drinking tonight, pretty lady?” She seemed to mull it over before answering.
“I’ll have a Margarita—on the rocks and no salt, please.”
“Very good, I’ll be back with that—” He paused to glance over to the line of customers waiting at the bar, “—as soon as I can. I hope you’re not too thirsty, this could take a while.”
She scanned the line and gasped. “Sheesh, look at that line. Make it a beer. Domestic. Surprise me.”
He pushed his way to the crowded bar and joined the line of animated customers. Trying to tune out the hum of conversations around him, he scanned the patrons seated along the length of the bar. The sight of the tall, auburn-haired man seated three chairs down had him doing a double take. Bo McAllister stepped aside, revealing his date, the voluptuous blonde wearing some kind of body clinging, shimmering, contraption of a dress that screamed “Look at Me!” in any and every language on the planet.
“Son of a bitch.”
There was no possible way she could have heard his murmured curse, but it only took a second for their gazes to clash. He nearly stepped forward when her lips formed his name, but then Bo leaned over to block his view of her as she spoke to him. The man turned and waved at him, then took Niki’s hand to lead her over.
“How you doing, Tex?” Bo gave him a hearty handshake. “We’d decided to wait at the bar until you guys made it here. Are the rest at the table already?”
He nodded. “I’m good, McAllister. Yeah! Yeah, they’re over there.” As Bo turned to see where he’d pointed, Tex took the opportunity to sear Niki with his gaze. “Good to see you, Nicole.”
“Tex.”
Bo turned back to them. “I know the others, but who’s the redhead? Is that your date?”
If Niki had bothered to watch him instead of giving herself a case of whiplash to stare at the table, she would have noticed his wince at Bo’s words. Even though it was a non-truth, why did he feel as though it was an accusation, or a sign of his guilt?
Before the words ‘set-up’ or any other excuse left his mouth, Niki swiveled around to face him.
“Funny, she doesn’t look like a pole dancer.”
“How the hell would you know a pole dancer when you see one?” He leaned closer. “Or maybe you shop at the same st
ores? You’re looking very … available, by the way.” He shrugged. “I’m assuming that’s the look you were going for.”
She raised one brow. “Assume away, Mr. Broussard.” She turned on her spiked heels, her short blonde tresses disappearing into the crowd as she made her way to their table.
Tex met Bo’s gaze in the lingering tension of her departure. “Sorry, bro. She’s got a perpetual case of the hates-my-guts beyond repair.”
“I know. But you can’t be all that surprised, right? I mean, that’s Niki we’re talking about. There isn’t a man on earth that girl will take shit from.”
“Yeah, but I thought we could at least be friends without all the sarcasm and insults.” He raised both hands, palms outward. “That’s all I want, man, I swear.”
Bo grabbed the two drinks he’d ordered from the bar. “Want in one hand—”
“Crap in the other,” Tex finished for him as they both chuckled.
By the time he got the drinks, Tex was about to jump out of his skin. Niki had been over there with his ‘date’ for too long already. No telling what kind of bullshit she’d filled Aubrey’s head with. He headed back to their table, groaning inwardly at the sight of Nicole and the redhead deep in animated conversation. Tex approached, setting a drink carefully next to Aubrey. “Here you go, pretty lady. Margarita, on the rocks, and no salt, as you requested. You look too damn good tonight to settle for a domestic beer.”
“Aw, thank you, Tex.” She took the drink and sipped from the straw, rolling her eyes. “Oh that’s a good one.”
“So, Aubrey …” He settled into the chair next to her, eyeing Nicole, who’d chosen to sit directly across from her. “Have you been introduced to Nicole and Bo, yet?”
“I have; a delightful couple, if I do say so.”
Tex grunted. “Yes, indeed, delightful and informative, no doubt.” Not to mention judgmental as hell.
Aubrey’s head pivoted his direction. “Informative?”
Tex kept his silence as Niki jumped in with her own explanation. “I think he means gossipy, which is a jump to an incorrect conclusion on his part. I mean, that he’d think I’d find him interesting enough to even want to gossip about him.”