by Leger, Lori
He held her gaze for a moment before letting his head fall forward. “People will start ugly rumors about me, and I don’t want you to feel trapped if you start believing them.”
“Look at me, Red.” He lifted his chin, revealing a look of total despair. “I know you, and I know what a good man you are. I know that nobody who came from a family like yours could be capable of doing anything that could make me lose faith in you. I’m here for you, and so is Drake. That detective I spoke to, Mike Harper—he believes in you, too. You have friends in that department who respect you enough not to let you get railroaded into paying for something you didn’t do. That is what comes from being a good man. That is what comes from being the best man I know.” She prayed he found comfort in her words, hoped they acted as a healing balm to soothe his wounded soul.
He closed his eyes and let the weight of his head fall forward into her hands as she began to gently massage his scalp.
“They’ve identified the body as a woman from New Orleans. Someone I’ve never even seen or heard of,” he murmured.
“How do they know?”
“The dental records match with the ID found in a purse near her body. Poor girl was only twenty-five.” His voice cracked as he pressed an open palm to his forehead. “God, this is a nightmare—I still can’t believe it happened.”
“I know, Red.”
He grabbed her shoulders, touching his forehead to hers. “I need you, Doc.”
“I’d be lost without you,” she said before his kiss clouded her mind completely. She pulled away, flushed with the heat of a soul-searing need. Their gazes locked and she gave him an encouraging nod. Wordlessly, they slipped out of their remaining clothes.
Tiffany resumed her position, straddling him, knowing he was ready for this also. She braced her hands on his shoulders and slowly lowered herself, releasing a long, appreciative sigh as the length and breadth of him filled her completely.
“Wait—” His voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “We need a c-condom.”
She didn’t budge. “I’m healthy. Are you?”
“Absolutely. But—”
She placed a finger across his lips. “Hush, Red. Make love to me.”
He stared at her a long while then drew her to him for a deep kiss.
They made love quietly, as if they were afraid to disturb the haven they’d created for themselves. Maybe later they could allow their passions to find a voice, but for the moment—just for tonight—they needed to bond with each other in the silence of this room, letting the peacefulness of their time together fill any voids in their hearts—heal all their hurts.
Tiffany’s head fell back as the wave built, slowly beginning to overtake her. Red gently pulled her head forward.
“I want to see you come, Doc.”
His blue eyes, bright with passion, burned into hers and she barely managed a nod. He lifted her, filled her once more, one stroke, a second, and another, filling her completely. She gave in to the wave, letting it crash down on her. “Red!”
“I love you, Doc.” Her eyes flew open at his confession, barely a moment before she began to shudder against him.
When she could focus again, she looked down to see that Red was on the verge of his own release. His eyes were closed tightly in concentration, she suspected in an effort to hold back until she finished. She placed her hands on his face and he opened his eyes, gazed lovingly up at her.
“Let go Red. I love you too.” She covered his mouth with her own.
He released a low primal groan, and did as she asked. He did more than that—he let himself believe she could love him, despite the threat of impending disaster.
The strength of his release left him trembling, unprepared for its ferocity. She kissed him once more before leaning back to settle her gorgeous brown eyes on him. She smiled, obviously pleased with what she saw.
“Hey,” she murmured.
It took some effort and several blinks to keep his eyes from rolling blissfully back into his never-more-satisfied-than-this-moment skull of his. “Hey.” He pulled her close to his chest then rolled over until she was completely under him.
“I have a confession, Doc,” he murmured, brushing her curls away from her face.
“Hmmm?”
“That was my first time without a condom. Ever.”
She grinned, nipping playfully at his chin with her teeth. “How was it?”
“It was—It was fantastic.”
“If you marry me you’ll never have to wear a condom again,” she said, nipping at his lip.
“Hell, I’d marry you tomorrow if I could.”
“I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d ask.”
“Marry me, Doc.”
“All right.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Red.”
He pulled back to look at her. “Are we crazy?”
“I’m crazy about you. Does that count?”
“I love you, Tiffany.” He began to move inside of her.
She smiled, thinking how wonderfully strange her given name sounded coming from his lips. “I love you too, Scott. Are you ready again this soon?” She sounded shocked, but in a good way.
“Apparently so.” He placed several soft kisses at the base of her throat. “Is that a problem?”
“Not at all.” She closed her eyes in what he hoped was bliss. “I just thought you’d need some time.”
“Apparently not …”
Red blinked the grogginess from his eyes and stretched his free arm and leg hard enough to hear the bones pop and crack in the room’s silence. He lifted his head, squinting at the bright blue digital numbers of his alarm clock. He did a double take, then dropped his head back on the pillow and smiled.
Sleep. Heavenly sleep.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept this many uninterrupted hours. Then again, he’d never experienced a night like he’d just had.
He stared down at her, still asleep in his arms. He assumed she needed to get up soon to get ready for work, and decided he’d better let her know how unbelievably late they’d slept. He reached down and began to trace the outline of her face with one fingertip, smiling at the unconscious twitching and scrunching of her facial muscles. He brushed his fingers through her soft curls, wondering again at the miracle of them finding each other at this time in their lives.
After a minute more of touching and tickling, Tiffany’s beautiful eyes finally opened, and gazed lovingly up at him. She smiled and he returned it.
“Good morning Red,” she whispered.
“Good morning Doc.”
“I’d be a very happy woman if I could hear those three words first thing every morning.”
“Let’s take care of that. Let’s get a license, a J.P., and a couple of courthouse workers to sign as witnesses so you can be my wife.”
“Don’t you think your family might be a little upset if we deprive them of a wedding? Especially since your poor mother has waited so many years for this?”
“We could always do what Jackson and Giselle did, have another ceremony later and invite everyone we know.”
Tiffany beamed at him. “I like that idea. I’ll meet you at the courthouse on my lunch break.”
He gazed down at her, as the heaviness of his troubles came flooding back to him again. “Maybe we should wait and see how all of this mess with the club turns out first.”
“I’ve got faith in you, Red. I know that whatever happened, you had nothing to do with it. That’s good enough for me.”
He pulled her close for a hug. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Probably live another thirty-eight lonely years as a bachelor. Your poor mom would die without seeing a grandchild from you and she’d haunt you for the rest of your life.”
“Lucky I have you to save me from that miserable existence.” He kissed her nose.
“Very lucky—could you do me a favor?”
He nibbled at her neck. “Anything for you, baby.”
“Would you let me be the one to tell your mother?”
He chuckled. “Are you sucking up to the mother in law already?”
“I’m not sucking up! I just know how much it would mean to her,” she said, punching him playfully on the chin.
He pinned her to the bed and kissed her again. “You don’t need to suck up,” he breathed into her ear afterwards, rejoicing at her shiver of pleasure. “I got the feeling if I had let you get away, she would have disowned me.”
Tiffany pinched his cheeks. “Only for a little while, McAllister. There’s no way she’d stay angry at you for long, not with those genes!”
He grinned. “Ah, yes—it’d be such a waste if they weren’t passed on, or so I’ve been told hundreds of times over the years. This will make her day, especially coming from you. It’s a little after six now. What time do you have to be at the hospital?”
“My first surgery isn’t scheduled until ten this morning but I normally start my rounds by eight.”
Red crawled over her to get out of the bed. “We need to get you showered and fed. I’ll cook breakfast for you.”
She gazed at his gorgeous body as he stood there and immediately felt the need for him again. “I’ve seen your shower you know, and it seems spacious enough for two.” Her tone was more than suggestive.
“That’s what the previous owner, Bill Broussard, told me,” he grinned. “Care to find out?”
“Go on in and get that water all warm for me and I’ll join you in a bit. I’m going to call your mom, first. Do you think they’re up yet?”
“Absolutely, and use my phone.” He brought up a speed dial entry. Here’s their number, Doc. Knock yourself out.”
“Thanks, I’ll try not to keep you waiting too long.” She gave him a quick kiss before he walked to the bathroom.
Tiffany supported herself on one elbow to gaze at Red’s retreating figure, a hair under six feet and five inches of scrumptiously lean muscle with broad shoulders that tapered down to a narrow waist and hips. She watched him, amazed at the gracefulness of his movements for a man of his size. And yes, true to his word, all parts of him were built in perfect proportion to his body size. She flushed at the memory of how completely he’d filled her.
The door closed and she shook herself mentally to clear her head before reaching over the bed to pull her phone from the pocket of her jeans. Once she heard the water start in the shower, she called Drake.
“Hey, ya Tiff, what’s going on over there with McAllister?”
She filled him in quickly with the current happenings then paused. “That’s not actually why I’ve called this morning, Drake. I was wondering if there’s any way you could get here for noon today. It’s very important to me.”
“I can have a friend of mine fly me over there in his private plane if it’s important enough. What’s up?”
“Red and I are getting married at the Lake Coburn courthouse today around noon, and I really want you there.”
“Well hell, Sis, I’d be happy to.”
“Really?” She was slightly shocked at his reaction. “You’re not going to tell me I’m crazy and try to talk me out of it?”
“Nope, McAllister’s Grade A, in my opinion.”
Tiffany beamed at her reflection in the mirror. “He is, isn’t he?”
“I can’t think of a better husband for you, and I know he loves you. You don’t nurse a woman back from a hangover unless you’re in love with her.”
“I love him so much, Drake.”
“I know you do. I’ll be there. What about the folks?”
“No,” she said, tight lipped.
“All right, I won’t mention it to them.”
“Thanks. Love you little brother.”
“Love you, too.”
Tiffany disconnected, and walked into the hallway before calling Red’s parents.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. McAllister? Vivienne? This is Tiffany LeBlanc.”
“Tiffany! Is everything all right?” Red’s mother sounded a little panicked.
“Yes, ma’am, everything is fine. I’m calling to tell you that Red has asked me to marry him and I’ve said yes. Would you mind terribly having me for a daughter-in-law?”
Vivienne laughed in delight. “I would absolutely love it! You two were made for each other, you know. Pete and I could tell at Thanksgiving.”
“Thank you so much Vivienne. Now I’d like to ask a favor of you. Red and I are getting married at the courthouse today to make it legal. We’re planning on having another celebration later on so everyone can be there. But, I’d really love it if you and Mr. Pete could be there as witnesses for us today. My brother is coming in from Houston also. I didn’t want to do this with no family around.”
“We would love to, and I feel honored that you asked us.”
“Thank you so much. Could you not let on to Red that you’re coming if he calls you? I want to surprise him.”
“I promise I won’t, dear.”
“Thank you so much. I want you to know that I love him and I’ll be here for him.”
“I know you do Tiffany. Welcome to the family.”
“Thank you, Vivienne.” Tiffany ended the call and walked back into the bedroom. She smiled as she heard Red’s deep, resonating voice singing something by James Otto. She opened the door quietly and stepped into the shower with the man she loved. “There’s plenty of room in here, isn’t there?”
“Sure is,” he replied, pulling her into his arms. “What did mom have to say?”
She grinned. “That they could tell we were made for each other at Thanksgiving, and welcome to the family.”
“It sure will be nice coming home to you every night.”
“I’m kind of looking forward to waking up with you every morning,” she countered.
“Mm. That sounds pretty damn good, too.”
He soaped up the rag, letting it glide softly over her skin, her breasts, her belly, and lower. In moments, he’d awakened new desires in her.
“Now,” he growled. “Let’s see how many ways we can break in this shower.”
It was seven fifteen before Tiffany walked into the kitchen, dressed and ready for the hospital. She walked up behind Red, who stood at the stove taking the last of the bacon out of the pan. She put her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. “Is there anything I can do?”
“You can hand me those two plates.” He stirred the scrambled eggs one last time before distributing them and the bacon into each plate.
Tiffany placed them on the breakfast table while Red poured two cups of coffee for them.
“Do you want juice this morning?” he asked her.
“Just coffee, please. I need to leave here early enough to go by my place to get my birth certificate and pick up something to wear to the courthouse. I know it’s informal, but I refuse to marry the love of my life in scrubs.”
“Just so you know, I’d marry you in scrubs—or barefoot in a pair of daisy dukes—or in jogging attire—or better yet, wearing nothing at all.”
“I bet you would—but I’m not sure how the JP would feel about that,” she laughed, accepting an eager kiss from him.
“I have a ring to buy this morning,” he said. “Any style in particular you’d like?”
“I do not want a solitaire engagement ring. I wore one of those for two years and it left a bad taste in my mouth. Besides, it got caught on everything. I want an old fashioned wedding band.”
“Just a band? No engagement ring?”
“That’s right—matching bands—and I trust you to pick them out.”
He walked her to the door after breakfast, making it difficult for Tiffany to tear herself away from him. “I have to go,” she said, going back for one more kiss before turning away from him. She heard him call out and glanced in his direction.
“Check your phone messages often, Babe,” he said, sending her a wink that had her wishing it was “take your fiancé to work” day.
; Red unlocked his house and walked inside, loaded down with the purchases he’d made that morning. He made his way to the master bedroom and hung the garment bag containing the Scala gown he’d chosen to surprise his intended bride. He placed the bag bearing his other purchases on the bed: a pair of size seven ivory pumps to match the dress, and two boxes from a top of the line jewelry store. One containing the set of matching bands Tiffany had requested, the other holding the diamond dinner ring he hoped she’d accept in lieu of the solitaire engagement ring she did not want.
Red was primed for this. He could feel in his bones that he and Tiffany were meant to be together. He knew how much he adored her and could only hope she felt the same way about him.
He suddenly laughed out loud at the picture he must have made. Confirmed bachelor, club owner and entrepreneur, Red McAllister—damned near infamous for wanting to remain single and unattached. Here he was, surprising his bride to be with wedding gowns, shoes, and rings, and he was happy as hell to do it. He didn’t care how many clubs of his were burned down. As long as he had Tiffany by his side, he knew it wouldn’t matter one iota.
He pulled out his Armani suit, chose one of his many tailored shirts and silk ties, and laid out a pair of dress shoes and socks. He walked into the bathroom, whistling, as he turned on the shower jets. He was picking up Tiffany in two hours and he had to be ready for her. Life was good.
As he reached for a towel, his phone began to ring.
“McAllister here!”
“Well, aren’t you the happy camper this morning?” the mysterious voice snarled.
“What’s wrong, asshole? Couldn’t get your rocks off this morning, so you decided to get your jolly’s by trying to ruin my day? It ain’t happening buddy. I’m too pumped up to let a punk like you piss on my parade today.”
The deep, raspy chuckle crackled from his phone’s earpiece. “Wrong again, McAllister. Life, as you know it, is about to end. Wait for the call you pompous bastard.”
Red stared at the dead phone in his hand and pushed aside the sudden feeling of dread. He put the phone down and waited for the feeling to pass, but it only got stronger.