by Lori Leger
“I’m not! What is it with guys and skinny women?”
“You’re skinny.”
Tiffany’s jaw dropped. “I am not skinny. I’m athletic. Do you think any of your dates in the last five years could run three miles a day? I don’t think so. Now, let me see what you brought to wear, because I don’t think it’s a tee shirt and faded jeans kind of place.”
Drake lifted his bag by its strap. “I brought a set of decent clothes, I just didn’t want to drive in them.” He set the bag on her floor. “You let me worry about me and get yourself dressed to impress Mr. McAllister.”
“I’m not doing anything to impress Red. I just wanted to have a little fun with a good friend.”
“Yeah,” he said, still unconvinced. “Whatever you say.”
<><><>
Annie McAllister walked into Red’s club around eight o’clock and made her way over to the table by the band. After greeting Bailey, Brandon, and the rest of his band, she set out in search of Red, finding him deep in discussion with the bartender.
Red finished up and turned to her. “Hey Sis, you got your dancing shoes on?”
“Yep, it’s been a hell of a week. I’ll have the usual, Bobby” she said to the bartender before he handed her a light beer. “Where’s Tiffany? I thought she was driving in with you?”
“Her brother came in unexpectedly and she wanted to visit with him a little longer. She’s still coming but they’ll drive over together.”
“She has a brother?”
“Yeah, Drake—younger by a couple of years.”
“What does he look like?”
“I have no idea. We’ve only spoken once, and it was over the phone. He seemed pretty straight-up, like Doc.”
“Is he a doctor too?”
“He’s a lawyer.”
“Ugh!” she said, unable to hide her cringe. “I hate him already.”
“Give him a chance, Annie. If he’s anything like Tiffany, he can’t be that bad.”
She spun on her heels, tossing back her auburn locks. “I don’t have to give him a chance. I’m not in love with his sister.”
<>
Red finished up a phone call and exited his office toward the back of the club. He searched the area for Tiffany without success, realizing the full house was poor substitution for the woman he cared for. He headed for Annie, who stood talking to a group of women he didn’t know.
“Annie, have you seen Doc yet?” he asked.
One woman turned abruptly and he found himself staring into a pair of familiar brown eyes. He felt his mouth gape open, knew he must look like an idiot as he tried to come to terms with Doc as a gorgeous brunette instead of a beautiful blonde.
Tiffany’s eyes crinkled with laughter. “I won’t hold it against you since I barely recognize my own reflection.”
Somewhat recovered, but wanting nothing more than to get tangled up in those rich brown curls, he managed to close his mouth. He fought the urge to reach out for her, thinking he’d be helpless if she only knew the effect she had on him. “I can’t believe the difference it’s made.”
Tiffany’s left eyebrow rose in a delicate arch. “For the better, I hope.”
“Absolutely,” he said, nodding as he finally gave in and touched the silky softness of the curls shimmering with golden highlights. “Tanner is a fool. You are positively stunning.”
“Thank you, Red.”
“Hey,” Annie said, waving a hand in front of Red’s face. “I want to go meet Bailey, but judging from heat you two are generating, I’m not sure it’s safe to leave Tiffany alone with you.”
“Okay sis,” Red murmured, never breaking eye contact with Tiffany.
“Oh Lord,” Annie grumbled, as she turned away. “Get a room, you two.”
Chapter 9
Drake rounded the corner after leaving the men’s room and nearly knocked a tiny, though tightly-packed woman, clean off her feet. He reached out to keep her from flying backwards onto her diminutive derriere. “Excuse me, little lady,” he managed to drawl, just before his breath caught at the sight of the beautiful blue eyes, wide with surprise. He’d never been attracted to red heads, especially ones with curly hair. Until now, anyway. He gazed, transfixed by the silky auburn curls framing the delicate features of her face. Brows of the same hue lifted as her eyes widened.
“It’s...it’s okay...,” she stammered before visibly composing herself. She sidestepped him and made her way toward the ladies room.
Drake couldn’t help but stare at her tight little butt in the short brown skirt and body hugging sweater. The stiletto heels she wore accentuated shapely, toned legs though falling far short of giving her the height she obviously longed for. He’d dated more than his fair share of shapely women, but never had he been witness to a body as perfectly proportioned as that one. He watched her turn back, aiming a curious glance his direction, just before she ducked into the ladies room.
Well, hell to the yeah and that’s what I’m talking about!
Drake parked himself at the end of the hallway, where he’d be sure to see her when she exited. No way in hell he’d be losing that one’s coordinates. Meeting McAllister would just have to wait.
<>
Annie hoped the hunky guy was watching her, and chanced one last backward glance his way. He was watching, all right…with an intensity that nearly took her breath away. An unfamiliar shiver of excitement crept up her spine, making her wonder about the tall stranger. She forced herself to turn away and escape into the ladies room. He’s definitely not from around here, not with that accent.
There had been just enough light in the hallway to be certain about the color of his eyes. They were big and brown, the exact same color as her favorite candy, chocolate M & M’s. His neatly trimmed hair was sandy brown and looked like it would curl if left to grow out. Big boy had the slightest hint of a cleft in his otherwise perfect chin, a straight nose, and lips perfectly shaped for kissing.
She knew he was in shape because she’d nearly broken her nose on his rock solid abs. Every physical trait on that man was perfectly suited to her taste...except for one. He was too tall for her. Being just under five feet and a perfect size one, she was more comfortable with guys who didn’t make her feel like one of Jeff Dunham’s dummies. That being said, damned if she hadn’t been craving the touch of a gorgeous hunk of man lately. Besides, what would their difference in height matter when all she was interested in was one dance?
<>
The fact that Drake waited a full five minutes for her reappearance proved how attracted he was to her. Concealed by shadows, he watched as she cleared the hallway and stopped, scanning the area. He used the several seconds to study her delicate profile, thinking he’d never seen anything so lovely in his life.
“I sure as hell hope you’re looking for me,” he drawled, as she whipped around to face him. “Because I need a dance partner and you look like a dancer to me.”
“I never dance with anyone unless I know their name,” she answered confidently before extending her hand. “I’m...Nicole.”
He took it, filing away a piece of evidence, revealed by the slight hesitation in her voice. Not her real name...she’s either cautious or cagey. He could respect cautious, but cagey generally meant a husband or fiancé at home. “I’m Marcus,” he answered, choosing to give her his first name.
She gave him a pert nod. “I trust you can dance, Marcus, so don’t disappoint me.”
He led her onto the main floor, where they jumped into a quick paced Texas two-step. Drake held her, amazed at how good she felt in his arms. He felt larger than life, somehow, in a protective sort of way. He dismissed the thought, chalking it up to her being so vertically challenged. Besides, ideas like that were out of line when he didn’t even know her real name. Don’t think about it, Drake, old boy...this is a world apart from your life.
The two-step ended and the live band stopped for a break as the D.J. went right into the Eli Young Band’s Crazy Girl. Not bothering t
o ask if she wanted to continue dancing, he pulled her closer, feeling her respond with a slight tug on his shoulder.
An old feeling stirred in him, something familiar, something he hadn’t felt in years with the women he’d become so freaking bored with. Drake tried to act casual as he stole a glance at her, but what he saw blew that all to hell. As an attorney, he’d long perfected his ability to read people, their body language, speech patterns, and facial expressions. Nicole’s body language couldn’t be any easier to read if it was plastered in neon. He could see a passionate longing, accompanied with a desperate, though unsuccessful effort to hide it from him. He also saw terror, proving she was as unaccustomed to having this kind of reaction to a stranger as he was.
There was just enough of a pause between the song’s end and the next track for her to thank him politely and step away. Halfway into her retreat, the introductory bars of a soulful piano ballad had every woman in the club moaning, including Nicole. Drake smiled to himself, thanking God for Adele as she belted out the first lyrics of One and Only.
“One more?” he asked, hoping like hell she’d accept the offer. “I’ve got a fondness for the piano.”
She reached slowly for his hand and nodded. “I do too.”
Pulling her close, he considered himself lucky. He’d felt her reluctance to accept the third dance and wondered if it was the thought of dancing with him again that made her uneasy. And if that was the case, then why? He brushed aside his curiosity, telling himself it didn’t matter. This one last dance would be enough. He believed it, too...until he saw ‘Nicole’s’ head loll back as though hopelessly lost in the music.
Reveling in the feel of her in his arms, he knew he wouldn’t be satisfied without taking just a little more. Unable to resist the temptation, Drake defied his own conservative nature and leaned down to kiss her. If he was surprised at his own action, he was shocked all to hell with the intensity with which she kissed him back. She kissed him as though they were well acquainted lovers instead of virtual strangers. Her arms looped around his neck, and he was lost. He wrapped his arms around her, encompassing her tiny waist and then straightened, lifting her until her legs dangled a good foot above the floor.
Gasping, she pulled her lips from his. “Put me down, Marcus.”
He set her down gently, watching her, sensing that if there had been more light he would have seen her fair skin stained pink from embarrassment. As it was, she wouldn’t look him in the eye, and it flooded him with an unfamiliar, as well as overwhelming need to protect and comfort her.
“I’m sorry, Nicole, I couldn’t help myself. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She said breathlessly, turning her crystal blue gaze upwards.
“I can see that,” he mumbled, unable to keep himself from kissing her again.
Nicole’s arms returned to his neck, sending him into an all encompassing sensual tailspin. Totally absorbed in her presence, he became aware of his hands nearly encircling her tiny waist, her skin, silken and supple beneath the sweater that rode up with the lift of her arms. Her lips, so unbelievably soft...who the hell was he kidding? Everything about her was soft, unlike the runway models he usually dated, with their lean, angular lines. Nicole’s hair...and he suddenly didn’t give a rat’s ass what her name was or wasn’t...her skin, even her scent was all soft, supple woman. He wanted to immerse himself in her essence, was just thinking how he wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew everything about her, when she pulled free from his embrace. Her sudden disappearance left him with the strangest sense of loss, an emptiness he was totally unfamiliar with until this moment.
Drake scanned the shadows, and found her hurrying to a table. He watched her speak to its occupants, grab her purse, and make her escape out into the parking lot. He followed and caught up easily.
“Nicole, wait,” he called out.
“Please don’t follow me.” She said, never breaking stride.
He blocked her path. “Can’t we talk?”
She pointed to the club and sent him a wild eyed look of terror. “That’s not me! I don’t do things like that!” She shrieked, sounding just this side of hysterical.
“I know, I could tell...and neither do I. That’s why we need to talk.” His one step forward prompted her to back away.
She raised her hands as if to shield herself. “Don’t! You scare the hell out of me...you’re too...it’s...it’s all too intense. I don’t need this right now,” she said, her voice trembling with nerves or emotion or both.
He reached out, perplexed by his own desperate need to console her. “Can’t we at least exchange phone numbers? I’d like to talk to you again. We could take it slow.”
Her laughter, high and shrill from her state of near hysteria, rang out across the parking lot. “You’re kidding right?”
“Not at all,” he said, trying to maintain a modicum of composure. “I’d like to see you again. We could take our time and get to know each other.”
“Can’t do it,” she said. “We both know there’s no way in hell we could take anything slowly.” She brushed her curls back away from her face. “This is my time, my life. My career has just started.” She walked around him, her steps quick, sharp, and determined. “Don’t you dare follow me.”
She climbed inside her vehicle, a black Ford Escape with a sunroof, and barely gave the engine time to turn over before she drove off. Not before Drake got a good look at her Louisiana license plate. He went back inside, borrowed a pen from the bartender, and jotted down some figures on a napkin.
<><><>
Annie waited until she was out of the parking lot to make a phone call from her I-phone. “Hey,” she said when the other party picked up. “I’ve got to go home...A migraine...Yeah…I’m fine to drive. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She barely had time to end the call before bursting into tears. She drove the entire way home, crying intermittently, completely confused by her tears. By the time she made it to Kenton, she still hadn’t decided if she’d narrowly escaped a major stumbling block, or missed out on a golden opportunity for happiness.
Chapter 10
Drake searched for his sister and Red, hoping his possible future brother-in-law knew this Nicole or whatever her name was. He found them both at the other end of the bar.
“Here’s my brother now,” Tiffany said. “But where’ve you been all this time?”
“I got side-tracked, sorry.” Drake took a good look at the man standing beside her and held out his hand. “Drake LeBlanc.”
Red gave him a firm handshake, exuding confidence and a straight-forward attitude. “Scott McAllister, but you can call me Red. It’s nice to meet you, Drake.”
Drake nodded. “I hear good things about you from Tiff.”
Red aimed an unabashed gaze of admiration at Tiffany. “Likewise,” he said.
Oh yeah...he’s crazy about her, Drake noted, before clearing his throat. “You’ve got a nice place here.”
“Thanks man, it’s been a few years coming.”
“When’s the one in Lake Coburn opening?”
“New Year’s Eve; it should be a big party. I hope I can count on you to be there.” He passed an ice cold beer to Drake.
Drake thanked him before taking a much appreciated drag on the long neck bottle. “It’s possible. Tiffany tells me we got ourselves invited to Christmas dinner at your ranch. Are you dabbling in livestock too?”
Red gave his head an ardent shake. “No, the previous owner was a rancher, but I don’t have time for it. I just wanted to get out of the city. It’s nice not having to be grid-locked in traffic every day. I’m sure you can relate.”
Drake cringed. “Houston traffic is a bitch, man.”
Red looked up and grinned. “Here are two more members of my clan, Drake. My sisters, Melissa and Bailey and their husbands.”
Drake turned, doing a double take at the two beauties that joined them. Both had blue eyes like their brother, and both had red hair…not bright red, but a light auburn, burnished with
golden highlights. What’s more, they both looked remarkably like…Nicole. He kept quiet about his suspicions during Red’s introduction to the others.
“Where’s Annie?” Red asked, scanning the area. “She came by here with a group of friends from St. Gabe’s, but I haven’t seen her in awhile.”
“She had to leave,” Bailey said. “She developed one of her bad migraines.”
Drake’s excitement turned to worry when he saw the veil of concern pass over the club owner’s face.
“Was she alright to drive?” Red asked. “Those things usually hit her hard and fast.”
Bailey nodded. “She said she’d be fine driving back to Kenton.”
“I’m gonna do a little genetic profiling by assuming she looks a lot like her sisters, am I right?” Drake asked, trying not to give anything away.
“Yep,” Tiffany answered. “They all have the same gorgeous blue eyes and auburn hair. It seems to be a McAllister trademark.”
Drake nodded and fought to keep the grin off of his face. “I think I may have seen her. Was she wearing a brown skirt, with a tan sweater and some really tall heels...a little bitty ole thing…maybe five two with the heels?” he asked, holding his hands up to illustrate.
“Sounds about right,” Melissa said. “Did you meet her?”
“Not exactly, but I did see her,” he said, thinking a herd of wild ass buffalo couldn’t keep him away from Christmas dinner at Red’s place.
<>
Tiffany smiled up at her brother as they danced to an old country favorite of hers. “I wish Annie could have stayed, I was counting on her to be your dance partner.”
“Yeah,” he said, with an over dramatic sigh. “Who wants to dance with her brother when she could be dancing with the guy that looks at her like a half-starved man staring at a bucket of hot- wings?”
“Oh please,” Tiffany said, giving him a sisterly eye-roll. “I know how difficult it is for you, but try to keep the smart ass comments to a minimum.” When he answered her with a slight nod and a grin, she cocked her head to the side to study him. “What’s going on with you, brother mine? You seem a little quiet tonight.”