by Leger, Lori
“But Melinda and Greg got back together. And if your mother is to be believed, and personally I think she knows what she’s talking about, it looks like they may have found their daughter.”
“But look at all the time they lost. They’ve missed out on a lifetime of seeing their child grow.” She swiped uselessly at the tears running down her face. “It’s just so sad.”
He couldn’t help but smile as he watched her sniff and dab at her tears with the cuff of her sweater. “Yeah, it’s a sad thing when people miss out on a chance for happiness. At least Melin and Greg have the excuse that it was out of their control. It wasn’t because of his or her stubbornness.” He spoke quietly, hoping his words sunk in.
She turned her back on him again. “Give it a rest, would you?”
He laid his hands softly on her shoulders. “Not as long as there’s the slightest chance of wearing you down.”
“It’s not going to happen, Drake.” She turned on him, her voice hard with impatience. “You need to face that—and stop tormenting me.”
“What are you so damned afraid of Annie?”
“I’m not afraid.”
“That’s not what you said at the club that night in the parking lot. You said I scared the hell out of you.” He slipped his hands on her waist and pulled her closer. “So what is it? Are you afraid of being happy?”
“I am happy.” She twisted out of his hold. “I’ve got a wonderful career just starting and a full life ahead of me. I don’t need to be side-tracked.”
“But we could at least be friends.” He was willing to take that—for now.
She snorted. “We couldn’t just be friends if our lives depended on it, and you damn well know it. This is how it has to be. I’m not putting my life on hold for you, or anybody.” She walked back inside, leaving Drake to stare after her.
Inside the emotional tear-fest of the house, Red rushed to his wife’s side to console her. “Babe, what’s wrong?”
“Red—they’ve been separated for so long. First, Melinda and Greg, then from the baby wh-who-co-could be Giselle.” She wiped at her eyes, continuing with her emotional babbling. “Your mom thinks she is and I bet she’s never wrong. I just feel so—oh, I don’t know!”
“Aw, Doc,” Red groaned, holding his sobbing wife in his arms. He looked to his parents’, caught the knowing look they exchanged.
Vivienne left her husband’s side to collect her daughter-in-law. “Come on dear, let’s go have some girl talk.” Within seconds, the majority of the women had disappeared down the hall into the master bedroom.
Red furrowed his brow, torn between wanting to comfort his wife and distance himself from the emotional turmoil and tears. His father’s reassuring hand on his shoulder had him looking toward him, his brow furrowed in concern. “Is that a normal reaction?”
Pete McAllister’s face spread with a knowing grin. “Oh, it may be normal for a while, but believe me, it’ll pass, Son.”
He turned away, still wearing the grin, but not soon enough to keep Red from hearing his low chuckle and comment.
“It always passes.”
Red stood at the front of the church, fidgeting in his classic black tux, anxious for the first glimpse of Tiffany. He scanned the church full of family and friends, thankful the two of them were blessed with so many, while waiting for his bride to appear. At her request, the church wedding was a simple affair. The only items they’d added to the traditional Christmas decor gracing the apse and altar were several more poinsettia plants.
Red had been right when he said every girl needed her father to walk her down the aisle. It turned out, that’s all Tiffany needed. She’d requested no bridesmaids or groomsmen—only her father.
The doors opened at the far end of the nave, revealing Daniel LeBlanc, dressed in his own black tuxedo, and the center of Red’s world. His breath caught at the first sight of his beautiful bride, stunning in a simple, but elegantly cut gown of ivory satin.
As they approached, he noticed more details—how she wore her hair pulled up, her golden brown curls strategically escaping from their loose binding of crystal adorned combs. She was perfection. Her beautiful brown eyes sparkled with happiness—no sign of a tear or trace of nervousness. Daniel hugged his daughter tightly, took a moment to whisper something in her ear. Whatever it was, had her prolonging the hug she gave him.
Daniel finally handed her over to him and gave his hand a firm shake.
“Thank you, Sir.”
Daniel’s eyes grew misty for a second, and he blinked several times to clear them. “Thank you, Red—for opening my eyes. You brought my daughter back to me.”
“You’re welcome.”
Daniel nodded. “I don’t have to ask if you love my daughter; it’s obvious that you do. You two will be fine.” He turned and left them alone at the altar. Red’s gaze locked onto his beautiful bride and for several moments, everything else, everyone else in the building faded away.
“You take my breath away, Doc.”
“Thank you, Red.” Her right brow quirked as she passed an appreciative gaze over him.
He grinned. “Like what you see?”
She leaned close to whisper. “I’ll show you how much I like it when we get home tonight.” She gave him one last wink before they turned and took two steps up to where Father Mitch waited to join them in holy matrimony.
Red’s new club, again thanks to Tiffany’s simple, but elegant tastes, was beautifully decorated, even though it lacked the usual fuss and fluff of so many weddings he’d attended. The food, provided by a catering service, was delicious and artfully displayed, the champagne, high quality, and the music was Red’s D.J., playing every song from the couple’s carefully created playlist. Brandon had offered the services of his band, but Tiffany flatly refused, insisting this night was for family to enjoy. He was under strict orders to dance the night away with his wife. The couple had each chosen a song to dedicate to their spouses. Red smiled when the D.J. announced the bride’s choice for her husband, “This Love,” by LeAnn Rimes.
“Do you recognize this song?”
“Mmmm…our first time in the shower,” Red said mischievously. “You made an excellent choice, as usual. Have I told you how breathtaking you are today?”
She smiled. “I believe you have. It’s quite a change from me walking around the house with no make-up, jeans, or scrubs, and sneakers, isn’t it?”
“You always take my breath away—even in your no-frills running gear.” He nuzzled her neck. “Sing to me, Mrs. McAllister.”
She lifted her mouth to his ear, filled their personal air space with the voice that had captivated him a month earlier. He waltzed her around the floor, enjoying the feel of her in his arms, the way they moved together as Tiffany sang sweetly into his ear. Red stopped in the middle of the floor as the melody ended and closed out the song with a tender kiss for his wife.
They stood toe to toe, and motionless as the D.J. interrupted with an announcement.
“Okay folks, I have to admit, I’m not quite sure what this is all about, but the groom has dedicated this one to his lovely bride.”
All was quiet in the room when the sharp military tap of a single snare drum filled the air. Tiffany’s brow initially furrowed in confusion. But when the sprightly notes of a flute and piccolo joined to form the opening notes of The Yellow Rose of Texas, Tiffany’s eyes widened. Her mouth flew open in a show of semi-serious horror. “Red McAllister. Tell me you didn’t!”
He took two giant steps away from her—spread his arms wide, a huge grin plastered on his face. “Baby, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”
Excited screeches from Melissa and Bailey cut through the air as they approached the edge of the dance floor.
Bailey pointed toward Tiffany. “The tattoo!”
“Spring break in Panama City!” Melissa called out.
Bailey acted like she was pouring something from a bottle. “Somebody break out the te-qui-la!”
Both women
turned and touched a finger to a spot just above their right butt cheeks. The crowd erupted in laughter as the newly married couple played along. Tiffany leaned over, presenting her backside to the crowd as Red pointed out the exact spot of her tattoo. He looked up at the spectators, winked, and gave the crowd a big thumbs-up. The room exploded with more cheers, laughter, and finally applause. Tiffany straightened, her cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment.
Having teased her enough for one day, he motioned to the man in charge.
The DJ cut the song. “Yellow rose tattoos aside,” he announced, “here’s the real dedication song from the groom to his bride.” The familiar opening notes of Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl blasted from the speakers.
Red gave her a dramatic bow at the waist. “Is this more to your liking, my lady?”
Tiffany pointed to her husband then crooked her finger at him. “Now, that’s more like it, mister!”
Red took his wife’s hand, and delighted the crowd with a lively dance with her.
Later in the evening, Tiffany felt a pair of strong hands at her waist. She turned from Carrie and Giselle to look into her husband’s gaze.
“Excuse me ladies, but could I steal my wife for a dance?”
Red whisked her off in a waltz to a song she couldn’t help but link to this man. She let her head fall back and hummed along to Hold On To Me. She opened her eyes, catching her husband gazing at her, wearing his trademark sexy grin. “What are you thinking about, McAllister?”
Red nuzzled her neck. “Our last dance at Jackson and Giselle’s wedding reception. It was all good, right up until that slap.” He pulled back and rubbed his face.
She kissed the cheek that had once worn her handprint for several minutes. “That too, but I was talking about the first time I spent the night at the ranch, when neither of us could sleep. I walked into your office, and you were sitting there, all shirtless and buff…looking so damn sexy and playing this on your guitar. I was mesmerized.”
“You thought I looked sexy?” He kissed the tip of her nose.
“Like you didn’t know.” She slid her hands seductively up his torso. Her husband released a deep rumble of a groan and had her mind returning to the last time they’d made love, and wishing they were home—alone.
“If I’d known that’s what you were thinking, I’d have left the damn thing off a little longer. There I was, trying not to offend you.”
She scrunched up her face. “I was so disappointed when you put your shirt back on.”
He chuckled. “Every time I closed my eyes that night, all I could see was an image of you in that whirlpool tub. Every time I dozed off, I woke up in a pool of sweat and wanting you.”
“Wanting me?” She traced a nail softly over his lips and chin.
“Why the hell did you think I had my shirt off? It was freezing that night, but I was on fire. There you were, in my home, and I couldn’t tell you how crazy I was about you.” He shook his head, wearing a pained expression. “If you’d only agreed to go skinny dipping with me.” Her low chuckle had him smiling again.
He moved her gracefully around the floor then finished by pulling her close to him. “I can’t wait to get you home.”
She nibbled at his lower lip, smiling at the low growl it produced. “I’m ready, but we have a few gifts to open first.”
He dropped his head back in frustration. “We have to open those here? I thought we’d get to take them home and open them all later.”
“No, we have to do it here, babe. Your mom insists it’s a McAllister family tradition.”
“Aw man, why can’t we start our own family tradition?”
“Stop whining, Red. Come on, it won’t take that long. There are just a couple of dozen actual gifts. Most are gift cards.” She pulled him over to the gift table and enlisted Melissa and Bailey’s help to make a list of gifts and who brought them for thank you cards. As promised, they went through them quickly. Tiffany handed him the last gift on the table. “This one says ‘To be opened by Red’, so here you go.” She handed him the box and stepped away.
Red studied the square, flat box, wrapped in white ribbons. He removed the ribbons, then the lid, revealing several layers of tissue paper. Pulling the paper aside, he stared at the contents, gently nudging one, then a second, then the third of the three items inside. He covered the box and looked to his left, and then his right for Tiffany. A light tap on his shoulder had him spinning around to see his wife standing behind him, wearing an ear to ear grin.
He placed his hands gently on her shoulders. “Are you serious? Can it happen this quickly?”
She looped her arms around his waist, snuggled close for a kiss. “I think I’ve married into a very virile family.”
“What is it?” The call from the crowd had Red reluctant to release his wife. He finally did and turned to their wedding guests. Lifting the lid from the box, he removed the three different test sticks from three different pregnancy tests. Each one showed the same result in different ways—whether it was a blue dot, a pink plus, or simply the word PREGNANT.
He couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he made his announcement to the crowd.
“We’re having a baby!”
Whistles, applause and cheers ringing in his ears, he lifted his wife and spun her around before setting her down. He kissed her until she pulled back, breathless and flushed with excitement.
“I can’t wait to see our baby, Red. I’m so looking forward to bringing another beautiful McAllister child into this world. And I’m praying he’ll have that same gorgeous, strawberry-blonde hair and his daddy’s blue eyes.”
He gave her a seductive grin. “Not me. I’m hoping we break the cycle. Let’s inject a little curly haired cutie with huge brown eyes like her beautiful mama.” He nodded decisively. “Yeah, that’s what I’m putting on my wish list.”
“Oh, but I adore my red-haired, blue-eyed devil.”
He kissed the pretty pout from her lips. “Not any more than I love my brown eyed girl.”
Thank you so much for letting me share Tiffany and Red’s story with you. Please consider leaving me a review at your favorite e-book retailer and/or Goodreads. Reviews are a writer’s best friend. Even the bad ones if they’re constructive. Merci beaucoup! (Thank you, very much!) ~ Lori Leger
Blurb for Heaven in Your Eyes
Annie McAllister’s prospects for the New Year look rather grim. While other people are trying to keep resolutions, she’s busy dodging phone calls and threats from a man who came dangerously close to ending her life on New Year’s Eve. Rather than put her family at risk, Drake LeBlanc finally persuades her to let him help in the fight to keep her safe. The handsome Texas attorney has already saved her life once, so why not let him move in temporarily?
Though Drake would welcome the chance to become a permanent fixture in Annie’s life, he’s hampered by her determined efforts to protect herself from men like him. In his quest to win her trust, as well as keep her safe, Drake earns the loyalty of Annie’s pet cat, Martin, and wise-cracking parrot, Lewis.
With a relentless stalker creating constant turmoil in Annie’s life, Drake tries to break through the barriers she’s placed around her heart. Can his love and determination accomplish what no man has done since her last relationship ended in disaster? Or will a sadist find a way to get to Annie before Drake can make her admit her feelings for him?
Includes romantic subplot involving Annie’s oldest brother, Chad, and his wife Julia.
New Year’s Eve
Annie sensed his presence the moment his masculine-as-all-hell profile filled the doorway of her brother’s club. He drew her attention like a mosquito to a fresh supply of B-positive. She targeted him within seconds. Once again, she questioned God’s wisdom in gifting Drake LeBlanc with more than his fair share of All-American-southeast-Texan-buffitude. The man’s drool-worthy qualities: six-foot-plus of sinewy muscle, broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist—she could only imagine what he looked li
ke under that shirt—packaged with a strong jaw, chiseled features, and heavenly brown eyes. Male babies all over the world must have cried “Foul!” the millisecond he was born.
She sipped on her drink, able to admit the one thing eating at her. Despite his annoying habit of pissing her off in ways no other man could, the s-o-b was hotness personified. Why must he show up just in time to ruin her night? And why must he always look so damned good doing it? She groaned inwardly at how good he filled out his sexy attire of dark grey slacks paired with a burgundy shirt. As usual, tailored to torso-hugging perfection.
He turned in her direction, as though homing in on her presence. Annie ducked behind a column, hoping she’d purchased a bit more relief from the intolerable cockiness he flaunted like a Friday afternoon paycheck.
Drake inched his way through the crowd. The place was ass-to-ass people, great news for his brother-in-law and club owner, Red McAllister. It turned out New Year’s Eve made for a hell of a grand opening for the brand new club named, simply, Red’s.
Partiers on the packed dance floor moved rhythmically as the latest country chart-buster blasted from the sound system. Gorgeous women, dozens of them, swayed and gyrated in step to the pulse-pounding beats.
He scanned them in a quick, practiced search for the one face, the one particular shape in the crowd. He thought he spotted her but the vision vanished just as quickly. A familiar voice at his shoulder cut into his concentration.
“Hey, bro! We were beginning to wonder if you’d be able to make it.”
Drake grabbed Red’s outstretched hand and gave it a firm shake. “I’m late, I know!” He had to yell to make himself heard over the sound system. “But I’m working my ass off trying to get settled in. I unpack at the office until seven, go home, eat a little takeout, and unpack there until ten.”
Red gave him an understanding nod. “It gets easier.” He pointed to a corner of the club’s huge, open room. “Everyone is over there.”
It took a few minutes to get to the far side of the room, where the rest of their group had taken up three rectangular tables in the VIP section.