Authors: Lori H. Leger,Kimberly Killion
Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women
Red smiled, pleased to finally get the chance to get even. “That one was for Annie; this is for fifteen years ago.” He hit him square in the nose with a powerful right.
Tanner swore as blood poured from his nose. “Son of a bitch! You broke my nose!”
Red looked down his nose at Tanner. “You deserve worse than that, but I don’t want to ruin the wedding. If you go out there and make a scene, I may reconsider.”
Tanner pressed a handkerchief to his nose, as Red took Annie’s arm gently and turned her toward the exit.
“Could you at least get Tiffany?” he heard Tanner ask, his voice muffled and nasal sounding.“That’s the plan,” Red murmured, as he felt his sister’s suspicious gaze on him.
“You really like her, don’t you, Red?”
He shrugged, trying to make light of the situation. “I don’t think she deserves to be saddled with a jerk like Tanner, that’s all.” He cringed at her next words.
“You’re crazy about her!”
“I just can’t stand to see her with that asshole,” he insisted. “Did you see any new foals in the stable?” he asked, hoping to draw her away from the subject.
“Are you in love with Tiffany, Red?”
He stopped to glare down at the diminutive clone of his mother. “No...and quit trying to make too much of this. I want Tanner to suffer, that’s all.” He snorted, disgusted at his sister’s knowing grin, all too aware of what it would mean for him. He walked away from her then shook his head at the sound of her reciting an old jump rope song from when they were kids.
“Scottie and Tiffany sitting in tree…K…I…S…S…I…N…G…”
“You’re such an infant,” he called back to her as she began to laugh.
Red walked straight to his D.J. and requested two songs for immediate play, slipping the man a twenty. He approached Tiffany with his hand out. “Dance with me, Dr. LeBlanc?”
“Only if you call me Tiffany, Scott,” she said.
“I will if you call me Red, or at least Scott.” He led her to the dance floor, twirling her expertly around the perimeter, applying slightly more pressure on the small of her back than was necessary.
<>
Tiffany would have had to be dead not to realize how well they moved together...fit together...on the dance floor. Red was well over six foot and looked like he worked hard to keep up his athletic build. She was a slim, but well-toned, five and a half feet tall woman who could appreciate the, oh, so many physical qualities Red McAllister possessed. Their dance movements were perfectly synchronized, and she found herself wondering what other things they’d do well together.
Get a grip, girl...you’re engaged.
Ugh...to Tanner...a man she couldn’t trust as far as she could throw him. Just the thought of her wandering fiancé was enough to subdue her wayward thoughts.
<>
Damn, but they moved well together
. Red pulled her closer, realizing it would take a herculean effort
not
to think about other ways they’d move well together. They didn’t speak at all for the rest of the dance, which relieved Red. When it came to this lady, sometimes the less he spoke, the better off he was. He’d never felt so comfortable with a dance partner before.
She’s a perfect fit for me
. As the first song ended, he whisked her right into the second dance before she had a chance to protest.
He watched her head fall back, as John Michael Montgomery crooned
Hold on to Me
.
“God, I love this song,” she groaned.
He smiled down at her, pleased at her statement. “It’s an old favorite of mine,” he confessed as their gazes clashed.
“You’re a good dancer, Red.”
“So are you, Tiffany.” He gazed into her beautiful, brown eyes and wondered how Tanner could turn to other women when he had her. “Why the hell do you put up with him, Doc?”
She stiffened slightly and looked away. “We have things in common...and five years together.”
Red frowned. “Neither of which is good enough reason to marry him. Do you have any idea what a jerk he is?”
Tiffany shrugged. “He can be at times. At other times he can be very charming and sweet.”
Red emitted a barely audible snort then pushed all thoughts of Tanner aside, and tried his best to enjoy the feel of Tiffany in his arms before he’d have to let her go. He was under no delusions about her reaction once she found out what he’d done. She would be furious after she discovered that he’d danced with her
twice
before sending her off to her fiancé. If victory was fleeting, he’d enjoy it while he could. He rubbed his thumb gently on the small of her back, and felt her shiver through her silk blouse.
He lowered his head slightly toward the crook of her neck and inhaled. Some kind of floral fragrance combined with her unique scent to tantalize his senses. He’d fantasized about holding her in his arms this way. Red pulled her a little closer for the rest of the dance and neither of them spoke again until the last notes had faded. Reluctantly, he walked her off the floor and pointed toward the stables.
“You’ll find Tanner over in that building. He may need your assistance.” He turned and walked away, feeling her gaze on him.
<><><>
From his vantage point, he watched as Red McAllister left the pretty blonde’s side, wondering why he’d walk away from a looker like that.
Maybe I’ve given him more credit than he deserves.
He studied the woman carefully, for future reference, then flicked the toothpick over his tongue, and turned away from the crowd. He walked, unnoticed, back to his pick-up truck, itching to get his plan started. Soon...very soon...McAllister would begin to pay the price for what he’d taken from him.
<><><>
Tiffany studied Red’s retreating form, noting how he moved with such grace and ease. The man looked every bit as comfortable in that classy black tux as he did in a pair of tight jeans and a polo shirt. And his smell...God, he smelled divine. It had been all she could do not to bury her nose in his broad chest during that dance. He was one of those men whose masculinity oozed from his pores. He was obviously intelligent, but she sensed other qualities as well. She’d thought of him often in the past few months. Despite their somewhat awkward first meeting, she couldn’t deny the pull she felt in his presence. Pushing the thought from her mind, she turned to walk in the direction of the stables. Wondering “what if” never did anyone any good.
Tiffany walked slowly, observing the lovely grounds of the ranch. She’d always longed for country living. On more than one occasion she’d tried to convince Tanner to find something outside the city. It was one of many reasons she resented him—he said he wouldn’t be stuck like some bumpkin when he could be close to everything he enjoyed right there in the condo. She suspected his real reason was more along the lines of not having to drive so far to sleep around on her.
Why did she put up with him?
Because, according to her mother, all men cheated, that’s why. In the upper class household in Houston, Texas, where she and her brother were raised, their parents both had open affairs. Her father had mistresses, and her mother had her kept men.
The thought brought her back to Red McAllister and how both Jackson and Giselle had nothing but good things to say about him. He didn’t seem the type to take anything lightly, especially marriage vows. She dismissed the thought as irrelevant. She had five years invested in Tanner, and at thirty six, was too old and emotionally exhausted to start over with anyone new.
Tiffany walked into the stables and saw Tanner leaning against the wall with his handkerchief over his nose.
As she approached him he removed the cloth to speak to her.
“You took your sweet time getting here.”
“I was just told I could find you in here. What happened to you?” She checked out his nose. “Ugh...It’s broken.”
“I know that. You may be the great Dr. Leblanc, but I’m a surgeon too,” he snarled.
“What happened?” she asked, ignoring his attitude.
“That cretin, Scott McAllister hit me in the nose!”
She stared at him in disbelief. “Red hit you?”
“Red? You call him
Red?
” he sneered.
“Everyone calls him that.”
“Not everyone, Tiffy; only his low class family and white trash friends. His betters would call him Mr. McAllister, or Scott, or better yet, how about asshole?”
“That’s real classy, sweetheart,” she told him. “Besides, he just asked me to call him that when he...before he...he..aaah,” she said, closing her eyes as it all came together. She swore under her breath then eyed her fiancé suspiciously. “Why did he hit you?”
“He hit me because of something that happened fifteen years ago. It was nothing...
less
than nothing,” he snarled.
“Give me the keys,” she barked before he fished in his pocket and threw them at her. “I’ll bring the car around.” She walked off toward the parking area.
<><><>
Red watched her trudge to Tanner’s Mercedes and decided to run damage control. He walked up as she unlocked the car door. “Did he tell you
why
I hit him?”
She rounded on him. “Does it matter? Does it ever matter why somebody feels it necessary to break someone else’s nose? Really, Mister McAllister,” she sneered, “I didn’t think you were such a brute. I thought after thousands of years of walking upright, surely your people would have found a way of resolving issues other than with their fists; especially issues that are fifteen years old!”
Red’s mouth fell open
. Fifteen years old? Well of course that’s all he would have told her.
He longed to tell her the whole story, but suddenly got an image of her crying outside the hospital. The last thing he wanted was to cause her anymore distress. Instead, he took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Sometimes there is no other way.” The slap came out of nowhere, fast and furious, the sound resonating in the open air.
“
That’s
for not telling me about Tanner until after those two dances,” she hissed. “I despise being used to make someone else suffer.”
Red watched silently as she got into the car, started it, and drove to the stables to collect poor, pitiful Tanner. His gaze followed the car as it continued on out the driveway and onto the paved road that led back into the city.
He whistled under his breath as he rubbed his stinging cheek. “She’s got some fire in her after all,” he mumbled, as Jackson walked up to meet him.
“
Where’s Doc going?” Jackson asked.
“
She had to bring Tanner to get some medical attention. His nose got broken.”
“
By what?”
Red raised his right fist and flashed Jackson a smug grin.
“
No kidding?”
He nodded then related the story in its entirety to his friend. “I wasn’t trying to break it...that was a bonus...
lagniappe...
as my mother says.”
“
How’d Tiffany take the fact that he was trying to put the moves on your sister?”
Red paused a moment before explaining why he hadn’t told her, and how he ended up paying for those two dances.
Jackson chuckled lowly. “I saw you talking to the D.J. just before you asked her to dance. I knew you were plotting something. Did she slap you hard?”
“
Oh yeah.” Red turned his cheek to show him.
Jackson whistled. “I hope she didn’t hurt herself.”
“
Thanks for the concern, buddy.”
“
Hey, she’s a doctor, Red. She needs those hands.”
Red rubbed his cheek. “I assure you, her hands are fine,” he said, wondering to himself what else she could do with those hands of hers.
“
Oh man,
now
I know how Carrie and Uncle Bill could tell I cared about Giselle. I can see it in your face, plain as day.”
“
See what?”
Jackson poked Red’s shoulder. “You’re in love with Doc.”
“
How the hell do you figure that—just because I don’t want to see her cry? My mom taught me to be a gentleman, you know. Besides, she doesn’t think I’m good enough for her, with that ‘your people’ remark she made.”
Jackson chuckled. “I think she was making a comment about men in general, Red, not your fine Scottish-Cajun heritage. Damn, but you’re sensitive when you’re in love.”
“
Your ass,” Red sneered as he walked away.
“
Whatever you say, buddy.” Jackson was still laughing when they walked up to Giselle. “Hon, you’re going to love this. It seems my best man is in love with Tiffany.”
Giselle beamed up at Red. “You mean you’ve finally admitted it to yourself?”
“
No, babe, he wouldn’t admit a thing, but I can tell,” Jackson said, chuckling. “Wait...you knew already? How could you know?”
Giselle laughed “How could you not? He asked about her every time we saw him. Don’t you remember how he argued that you needed another week in the hospital?”
Red stared at Giselle, perplexed, as usual, when it came to most women. He cringed at her laughter.
“
Why do you think I asked you to drive Jackson to some of his appointments, Red? I did that so you could see Tiffany. Honestly—you guys are so clueless sometimes,” she said.