by Leger, Lori
“I didn’t tell her that part.”
Annie’s mouth gaped open. “Why the hell not?”
Red gave the group of onlookers a shrug. “I didn’t want to hurt her. I let her think I hit him because of getting me kicked out of Jackson’s first wedding.”
His mother clucked her tongue in distaste. “Honestly, you men and your fists. Can’t you settle anything without fighting?”
Pete grunted. “Don’t listen to your mother, Scott. As far as I’m concerned, you could have broken a rib or two along with the nose. Really give him something to think about next time he wants to go poking where he shouldn’t.”
“Pete! Carrie, you tell him how foolish they’re being.”
“Sorry Vivi, I have no sympathy for Tanner Collins. When Jackson was still in surgery, even knowing Giselle was his girlfriend, that slimy son of a gun still tried to play touchy-feely with her. A few broken ribs would have served him right.”
Vivienne turned to Red. “He tried something with Giselle while poor Jackson was in surgery?”
Red nodded. “Giselle said he was the pretty boy type that couldn’t be trusted.”
“Oh, well—I can understand that.” Vivienne gazed up at her husband and smiled. “Your father saved me from marrying someone like that.” She touched Pete’s face tenderly and he leaned over to give her an indulgent kiss.
Annie groaned and rolled her eyes. “Oh, good Lord! Somebody stop them before they cause a scene.”
Red gaped in disbelief at his sister. “Are you ever going to accept that you weren’t the product of a virgin birth? You’re the last of eight children, Annie. They did it, okay? You should be thankful our parents still show affection for each other.”
“I know that, but must they do it in public? It’s embarrassing,” she hissed.
“Infant,” Red pushed playfully at her.
“Bully,” she shot back, shoving him.
“Was I a bully when I rescued you from Tanner?”
”I didn’t need rescuing. I’d already put him on his butt once. If he’d tried anything else I would have kicked him in the bal…”
“Annie Nicole!” Vivienne’s bark had Annie’s mouth snapping shut, any and all remaining commentary cut short. “Surely you two can find a better topic of conversation.”
“Yes ma’am,” Red mumbled, knowing better than to argue with her. He caught the look of amusement in Carrie’s eyes. “Where’s Sam, Carrie?”
She pointed at her approaching husband. “Here he comes, now.” She waved him over and linked her arm through his.
“Hey, Sam,” Vivienne said. “You know, it’s obvious how happy you’ve made Carrie the past fifteen years.”
Sam nodded. “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate that. She’s the reason I’ve been so happy for the last fifteen years, too.” He smiled down at his wife as she touched his face lovingly.
Red nudged his sister. “Hey Annie, I bet Carrie and Sam still do it, too.”
Annie looked at her brother in disgust. “Oh, you are such an ass!” She stormed off as the group dissolved into laughter. Before she got too far, she stopped and turned. “Hey Red!”
The smirk on her face gave him fair warning. All he could do was suck in his breath and wait for it.
“Did you ask Mom to start planning your wedding yet? It’s only a matter of time.”
Red watched his imp of a sister spin about and dart off, cackling like a little bantam hen. He turned slowly, seeing four sets of eyes boring into him. He raised his hands and started backing away slowly.
“She doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about, I swear she doesn’t.” He turned on his heel and hauled his butt out of there before either of the two salivating women could fire any questions at him.
Red joined the groom and his Uncle Bill, already deep in conversation. “Hey, Bill, is it true you’re thinking about selling this ranch?”
Bill Broussard nodded brusquely. “Yep, my new wife and I bought a pretty little spread just west of Kenton so our daughter wouldn’t have to switch schools. You know somebody who’s interested?”
“I sure do. I want it.”
Bill gave him a curious gaze. “I thought you liked living in downtown Lafayette.”
“I love Lafayette, but I’d like to be close to the club I’m building in Lake Coburn.”
“Not to mention a certain doctor,” Jackson mumbled.
Red punched Jackson playfully on the shoulder. “Keep your opinions to yourself, Jack.”
Bill chuckled. “Well, make me an offer and I’ll see what we can work out. I’d love for you to have this place. It’d almost be like keeping it in the family.”
“I’ll have one for you by Monday.” His DJ kicked off another oldie-goldie-belly-rubber and Gwen and Giselle walked up to claim dances with their husbands. Red watched the two couples blend into the crowded dance floor and couldn’t help remembering the feel of having Doc in his arms. He rubbed his cheek, wishing she’d parted with a somewhat better impression of him.
Once more, he couldn’t help but consider that Tanner Collins must be the biggest fool in the world.
Late November – Wednesday before Thanksgiving Day
Red barely had time to set the huge turkey on the counter before his landline began ringing. He grabbed for it, wondering which family member needed directions to the ranch. “Where are you?”
“Closer than you think.”
He pulled back the phone and checked the screen. No info, other than a number he didn’t recognize. “Who is this?”
Nothing.
“Look, I don’t have time for this.”
“One of these days you’ll have all the time in the world to think about what you did.”
“What I did? Look buddy, I think you have the wrong number.”
The deeply masculine voice, muffled and unrecognizable, continued. “No mistake, McAllister.”
The use of his name shocked him. “What is it I’m supposed to have done?” The low chuckle that followed had the hair on the back of his neck standing.
“Like I said, one day.”
“Bring it on. I’m not afraid of you.”
“Your mistake, asshole.”
The line went dead. Red stared at the phone, jumped slightly at the sound of the doorbell. He set the phone down, already determined to dismiss any and all signs of negative energy. This was his first holiday in his new home, the ranch he’d coveted for years. His family had decided the day before Thanksgiving was preferable, so his siblings could spend time at their in-laws this year. It worked out well for everyone.
He approached the door and pulled it open to greet the first arrival for Thanksgiving lunch. He opened his arms to Giselle, only to have her rush past him. Red stared after her. “Hey, where’s the love?” He turned at the sound of her two little girls giggling.
“It’s not you, Uncle Red,” Lexie explained. “Momma needs to pee really bad `cause she’s preganunt and the babies pressing on her bratter.”
Red’s brow furrowed. “She needs to pee—because she’s pregnant—and the baby is pressing on her bladder, right?”
Jackson followed the girls inside, hefting a large roaster, and grinning like he got the last platter of boiled crawfish in the batch. “You’re pretty good at deciphering five year old,” Jackson said.
“Put that on the stove top.” Red nodded toward the kitchen before hefting both little girls in his arms. He kissed his honorary ‘nieces’ until they giggled, then released them. He followed Jackson outside to help him unload the car.
Jackson grabbed the last bag and slammed the hatchback. “We definitely need a bigger vehicle, something with more cargo area.”
“And a third row of seats for that infant car seat you’ll be hauling around by next summer.”
Jackson smiled mysteriously as he nodded. “Are you settled in the ranch house yet?”
“Yep, I closed two weeks ago and started moving in the next day. I sold the house in Lafayette, at a good profit
, too. That pool really raised the value. The new owners love the grotto.”
Jackson placed the box he carried onto the floor and stared at him, his mouth agape. “You mean a couple bought it?”
Red nodded. “A family with two kids, and don’t look so shocked.”
“I thought for sure it would go to some other playboy type, like you.”
“Your ass!” Red snorted. “I told Giselle once that the closest that grotto’s ever come to seeing any action was you and her. I like it in a bed.”
Jackson groaned. “That wasn’t action—that was agony.”
Red elbowed his friend in the ribs. “I guess you’re getting it pretty regular now, huh?”
Jackson’s eyes rolled back in his head. “Aw man, you have no idea. I never dreamed I could be this happy. I love going home every day to my three girls.”
Red moved the roaster to the center island and turned to hug Giselle as she re-entered the kitchen. “Hello, beautiful, how’s that baby doing?”
She beamed up at Red. “Just fine, and the due date’s been narrowed down to June twenty-fifth, but my doctor thinks I may deliver earlier.”
“I guess that’s always a possibility,” Red agreed.
“More like a probability—with twins,” Jackson added. He pulled out an ultrasound picture showing two distinct fetuses.
Red studied the snapshot then embraced Giselle in a hug. “Twins!” He kissed her on the forehead then shook Jackson’s hand and slapped him on the back. “Way to go, stud.”
Jackson flexed his arm and grinned. “Who’s the man now?”
“I can’t wait to see those kids,” Red exclaimed.
“Me either. I can hardly wait till June.”
Giselle shook her head and chuckled. “That’s because you don’t know what it’s like to be sleep deprived for months at a time. Carrie said to put them on the same feeding schedule immediately, or we’ll never get any sleep.”
“She should know,” Red commented, referring to Carrie’s set of fully grown twin girls.
Jackson pulled his wife into his arms. “Hell, I’m already sleep deprived, what with my wife waking me up for sex in the middle of the night.”
Giselle slapped his arm and blushed. “It won’t happen again if you’re going to tell everyone about it.”
Red shook his head in disgust. “Yeah, and quit bragging.”
“I’m just basking in the glow of marital bliss, my friend.” He wrapped his arms around Giselle’s abdomen. “It sure is nice to be loved.” He cocked his head as if he suddenly remembered something. “And speaking of loves, I hope you don’t mind, but I invited someone extra for today.”
“Not at all, who’d you invite?” Red took a swig of water.
“Tiffany LeBlanc.”
Water spewed from Red’s mouth as he broke into a fit of coughing. Eyes watering, he finally caught his breath. “How the hell did you manage that?”
Jackson grinned. “She loves this place, so I invited her. I may have left out the fact that you bought it from Uncle Bill.”
Red shook his head, exasperated with his friend. “You know how pissed she’ll be when she sees me here, right?”
“Maybe, but she was depressed about not having any other plans. Tanner left last night to spend a couple of days with his parents. She has to work Thanksgiving Day and Friday. I told her we were coming to the ranch, and she was welcome to come along. She’s bringing dessert, by the way.”
Red sighed, accepting the inevitable. “Is she still mad at me?”
Jackson shrugged. “Ask her when she gets here.”
“I’m not bringing it up if she doesn’t. Has she said anything to you about me since then? Do you know how it’s going with her and Tanner?”
“Not a word and I have no idea. Sounds like a question for you to ask her. Is all of your family coming?”
“Yeah, they should be getting here any minute. All except for Chad, he’s got a flight. Enjoy the peace and quiet while you can, bro, because the noise factor is about to multiply tenfold.” He went to answer his doorbell, expecting to see one of the twenty or so of his family members scheduled to attend his first holiday celebration in his new home. His breath hitched as he opened the door to see Tiffany standing there, dressed in what was a far cry from scrubs. Her short black skirt made from some kind of suede material hugged slim hips, and he prayed she’d leave its matching jacket draped over her arm. It’d be a damn shame if she covered up any part of that red, form-fitting sweater. He could have done without the black leather boots, knowing they covered far too much of her shapely legs. Damn if she didn’t look hot, anyway.
She wore her silky blonde hair down around her shoulders. Red finally managed to speak. “Happy day before Thanksgiving, Tif—Dr. LeBlanc.” He reached out to take a large casserole dish from her hands before she had the chance to run. “Come on inside. Giselle and Jackson are already in the kitchen.”
Her breath caught at first sight of him. Handsome as ever, but wearing a mysterious smile that seemed a little on the resolute side, if anything. Did he know something she didn’t? “Happy Thanksgiving, Mr. McAllister.” She stepped inside, supposed she should at least act surprised to see Red here, although she wasn’t. The truth is, when Jackson invited her, a small part of her wondered if his best friend would be present.
Nor was she surprised by the fact that she still found him extremely attractive. If she were to be honest with herself, she’d hoped to see him here. Then again, she was lousy at being honest with herself. She tried to look casual as she studied the way he carried himself. The rugged good looks, along with his beautiful blue eyes, still commanded her attention. He didn’t have the pretty boy good looks that Tanner did, but he was far more appealing to her in other ways—unfortunately.
Red lifted the glass lid of the only extra-large casserole dish she owned.
“Oh, man. Is this banana pudding?”
She nodded. “Yes it is. It’s kind of my favorite thing to make since I got the recipe from a nurse at the hospital. I love it.”
“I know you had no idea, but this happens to be my all-time favorite dessert.” He replaced the cover.
“Seriously?”
“Oh yeah—so serious I’m thinking about shoving this to the back of the refrigerator until everyone leaves. This won’t go far.”
She frowned. “Well, I made a double batch. Jackson said something about a large crowd.” She had to wonder at the look he sent her. “What?”
“Something tells me you’re about to be overwhelmed.”
Giselle broke into their conversation. “Hey Tiff, Happy Thanksgiving. I’m glad you could make it.”
Tiffany gave both Giselle and Jackson hugs.
Giselle stared at the dish, her eyes round with expectation. “Ooh, what is that?”
Red lifted the dish out of her grasp. “It’s banana pudding, and just because you’re eating for two doesn’t mean you can hog it all.”
Giselle pushed him playfully. “Hey big boy, I’m eating for three, and I can’t believe you’d deprive your Godchildren of their mother’s favorite dessert.”
Tiffany set her purse on the barstool. “Eating for three?”
“Yep, look here.” Jackson whipped out the snapshot again.
Tiffany studied the ultrasound. “Look at those twins. You two sure work fast. Congratulations.” Tiffany scanned her surroundings, looking for their host and hostess. “Am I too early? Where are Bill and Gwen?”
Jackson cleared his throat as Red placed the dish in a huge custom installed refrigerator. “They should be getting here soon. They actually live just west of Kenton now.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that.” She surveyed her surroundings. Someone obviously lived here. “So, who lives here?”
“Um …” Red cleared his throat, passed a hand through his hair, obviously nervous. “I do. I bought the place from Bill and moved in two weeks ago.”
Tiffany leveled a gaze on Red, to Jackson, then back to Red. Red’s house
… for an early Thanksgiving celebration. Oh. Hell no. “I see.” She reached for her purse, got her keys, and spun around toward the door.
Jackson attempted to explain. “Come on, Doc—It wasn’t like that, I swear.” He quieted suddenly, as Red fired a stony glare in his direction before following Tiffany out of the kitchen.
He caught up with her at the front entrance and followed her outside. Closing the door behind them, he restrained her gently by placing a hand on her arm.
“Look, Doc, I didn’t know until five minutes ago that he’d invited you but we can be adults about this, can’t we?”
Tiffany turned on him. “You’re kidding, right? I’d never hear the end of it if Tanner found out I spent Thanksgiving at your house. You broke his ‘precious’ nose! You have no idea what I’ve had to put up with since then. The swelling, the black eyes, and nosebleeds—the endless bitching, whining, and complaining—Jesus, Red, you didn’t just break his nose. You made my life a living hell, too.”
Red grunted, surprisingly pleased at the extent of Tanner’s discomfort. “I guess I messed up that aristocratic profile of his, but whether you want to believe this or not, he had it coming. I am sorry if he took it out on you. Maybe you should have moved out for the duration.”
The narrow-eyed glare she fixed on him had all six foot four inches of Red taking a step back—just in case she decided to take a swing at him.
She shook her head. “Are you still playing that old fiddle? You hit him for something that happened fifteen years ago! Come on, Red, how old are you?”
‘Red’ instead of ‘Mr. McAllister’—that’s progress, anyway. “Haven’t we already exhausted this discussion, Doc?”
She spun haughtily away from him.
Undaunted, Red followed, pulling her to a halt by the arm. “Look, you can leave after I’ve had my say, but you need to know what kind of asshole you’re engaged to,” he sneered.
“I know everything there is to know about Tanner. He’s not perfect, but at least he’s not a Neanderthal like you. He doesn’t believe in using his fists to settle ancient arguments.”
Tiffany jerked her arm free and disappeared around the corner of the house. He followed, and unexpectedly plowed into her backside. She stood frozen in place, giving as good an impression of Lot’s wife as he’d ever seen in his life—as the dozen or so men, women, and children of clan McAllister blocked her escape route to her car.