Brown Eyed Girl Read online

  “I’m fine, but I admit I’ve got some things to think about.” He led her back toward the table when the dance ended.

  As soon as Tiffany was settled in her chair, she picked up the questioning. What kind of things?” she asked, watching him take a swig of beer.

  “I’m considering a career change, as well as changing my state of residence.”

  “To what, exactly, and where would you move?” she asked, hoping it wouldn’t be too far.

  “Well, I was thinking Lake Coburn seems like a nice place to live and work.”

  Tiffany clapped her hands. “I’d love having you here, Drake. Are you finally going to set up your own practice?”

  “I’m considering it. I can’t do what I do anymore, Sis. My conscience won’t allow it.”

  Tiffany beamed. “Good for you. Have you told dad yet?”

  “Nope, you’re the first. Now, don’t you feel special?”

  “Ah, you know it,” she said, as the D.J. kicked off an old favorite, “Two Dozen Roses”. She saw Red cut his talk short with the bartender and make a bee-line for her, holding his hand out.

  “He’s playing my favorite song, Doc. How about it?”

  Tiffany gladly took his hand and let him lead her to the edge of the dance floor. God, the man could move, and it was remarkable how good she felt in his arms. Maybe it had something to do with him making her feel like she was the only woman in the room. That song ended, jumping right into a slow country ballad that she adored. Before she could even hint that it was a favorite, Red thrilled her without a single word by pulling her closer for another dance.

  She closed her eyes, letting her bones turn fluid, pliable in his arms. Her insides heated from the soul searing need produced by the nearness of the man. Not just a sexual need, though she couldn’t deny that…but also a rekindling of an urge she hadn’t felt in years. Tanner had excelled in quelling any desire to settle down, marry, and have a house full of babies. But this man awakened the need to do all of those things.

  Tiffany shook herself mentally, attempting to redirect her line of thoughts…tried to think about this morning’s knee replacement on Mrs. Lassiter and Mr. Bertrand’s rotator cuff repair this afternoon.

  Try as she might, soon her thoughts wandered back to what her and Red’s children would look like and what it would be like to wake up in his arms every morning. She sighed, giving in to the fantasy for a brief moment, and rested her cheek against his rock hard chest.

  <><><>

  From his spot at the bar, Tanner watched his fiancé dance with that red headed, white trash, and anything but blue-blooded asshole. He should have known McAllister would be behind this. Ever since Jackson’s wedding last month, the bastard had been a royal pain in the ass, as well as other body parts. He gave his realigned nose a gentle brush with his surgeon’s fingers. Walking over to the D.J., Tanner slipped him a fifty for an immediate play, and waited patiently for the current belly rubber to end.

  The sight of Red’s hand placed at the small of Tiffany’s back had him bristling as he watched them leave the dance floor. He smiled to himself when Tiffany faltered at the opening notes of What I Wouldn’t Give by Blake Shelton. He damned near crowed when she froze in place at the D.J’s announcement of a special request, but he had to be careful. Tanner knew Tiffany well enough to sense that any sign of hostility toward McAllister would have her turning her back on him for good. He moved from the shadows to stand between them and their table, and held his hand out toward Tiffany.

  “Could you find it in your heart to grace me with one last dance?” Tanner asked, forcing his facial features into a mask of calm composure while giving McAllister a nod of greeting.

  Tiffany stood, seemingly immobilized, as well as shocked speechless by his presence.

  “Please? One last dance, Tiff…for old time’s sake,” he pleaded quietly while reaching out to her.

  Scott stiffened as if he would step forward, but Tiffany stayed him with her hand before addressing Tanner. “One song, if you promise to leave afterwards.”

  Tanner nodded and pulled her to him, placing his own hand possessively on the small of her back. He walked her to the dance floor, angling his head slightly to see if McAllister felt confident enough to turn away. Uh…hell no. He struggled to conceal the smug grin he longed to throw his way. That troglodyte looked like he’d set his life savings on fire to have one more shot at his nose. Not tonight, Scott, old buddy. Tanner knew his song request was high on Tiff’s favorites list, and this was his chance to make sure she didn’t throw away five years on a loser like Red.

  “How’d you know I was here?” she asked, as they began a slow, but perfectly synchronized waltz.

  “I went to the hospital to look for you, and Sally acted surprised that I hadn’t gone dancing with you at ‘that new club in Lafayette’. I took a chance it was here.”

  “Why are you here, Tanner?”

  He brushed her hair back from her face. “I want another chance.”

  “I’ve given you five years of chances. Don’t you think that’s enough?”

  “Just one more, Tiff. Don’t you think five years is worth one more try?”

  She shook her head. “You’ve slept with dozens of other women since we’ve been together.”

  “I was wrong and I know that now. If you take me back I would never do that to you again, but you need to be honest about one thing. You never did fully commit to me, did you? Don’t you think I felt that?” he asked.

  Tiffany stopped dancing and stared up at him, her irritation obvious as her eyes flashed with anger. “Are you trying to blame me for your affairs?”

  Tanner put his hands on her face. “I’m saying I’ve always felt your reservations about our relationship. I’m saying give me one more chance, we set a wedding date, and I’ll be faithful to you, I swear I will.” He held his breath as she gave him a slow shake of her head.

  “It’s too late, it’s impossible to trust you now,” she said.

  “If we love each other we can get through it.”

  Tiffany closed her eyes, and took a deep breath as though to brace herself before returning her serious brown-eyed gaze to his face. “What if I don’t want to get through it?”

  Tanner studied the tight, grim line of her mouth. “But, we’ve built a good life together.”

  “Good for you, maybe, but it hasn’t been so great for me,” she said.

  “Look, I know you’ve been moody, but I thought you were happy most of the time.”

  Tiffany released a huff of nervous laughter as she pulled her hair back from her face. “Moody? I don’t suppose the fact that I haven’t looked like myself in five years has had anything to do with it. Or maybe that I can’t walk into a club or sit down for a meal at my favorite restaurant without meeting up with one of your—side dishes.” She shook her head slowly and gave him a sad little half smile. “At least you have the sense to look ashamed, whether you really are, or not.”

  “I am,” he confessed.

  “Look,” she said, “this isn’t easy for me to say, but you were never my choice. You were my parents’ choice for me. I don’t love you, I never have…not the way I should, anyway.”

  “Tiff…”

  The song ended and they stood facing each other at the far end of the dance floor. “Tanner, please just go. Find someone else, and learn to be happy.”

  “What if I can’t be happy without you?” he said.

  “I can’t be your reason for happiness, and you can’t be my reason to be miserable anymore.” She held up her hands as he started to reach for her. “I’m done with this, Tanner.”

  He’d learned to read her in the five years he’d been with this woman, and he knew she’d spoken from her heart. He lifted his gaze to clash with McAllister’s. The guy stood several feet away, Tiffany’s alert watchdog, bowed up and waiting for any sign of distress from her to pounce. What the hell did she see in that guy?

  “Is it McAllister? Are you sleeping with him?�
�

  She shook her head. “You have no right to ask me that.”

  He nodded with certainty. “I see...not yet.” He reached out and put a hand on her face. “I’m not giving up, you know.”

  She pulled away from him. “Go, Tanner. You got your dance, now leave me be.”

  Tanner backed slowly away from her then turned without sparing another glance at McAllister before leaving the club.

  <>

  Red watched Tiffany lower her head, looking heart sick as she headed slowly in his direction. He met her halfway and pulled her into an alcove where it was quieter. Placing his hands on her face, he gazed into her tear filled eyes. “Are you all right, Doc?”

  She wiped her eyes and nodded. “I’m okay. It’s just that he actually sounded sincere, and five years is a lot to walk away from.”

  Red felt the icy grip of an invisible hand over his heart. Oh God…she’s taking him back. He gave her a brusque nod. “I understand,” he said, and turned, not wanting to walk away, but not trusting himself to stick around. He felt her gentle touch on his arm and paused.

  “But I am walking away from it,” she said, her voice low but firm.

  He turned, saw the truth of it in her eyes and only then did the hold on his heart begin to lessen. The space around them felt heavy, dense with the type of silence that spoke volumes.

  Tiffany finally shattered the silence between them. “Dance with me, Red.”

  Red laced his fingers through hers and pulled her out to the dance floor with him. Alan Jackson’s voice crooned Like Red on a Rose as they moved in unison to the sultry ballad. He pulled her closer to him and folded her right hand close. Warmth enveloped him as she rested her head on his chest, filling him with the absolute certainty that she belonged there.

  Towards the end of the song Tiffany lifted her gaze to his. He smiled down into her dark eyes, made darker by the shadows. “Hey Doc,” he said softly. He saw the ghost of a smile on lips that looked soft and pliant, ready to be kissed. Unable to resist, he did just that. He’d meant it to be quick, but it turned into something more. A connection neither of them wanted to break until the end of the song forced the inevitable. He pulled away, studied her still closed eyes, as her long, silky lashes rested against smooth cheeks. Red threaded his fingers in her hair, giving her scalp a gentle massage. He watched as glossy curls looped over and around his long fingers, completely amazed at how he’d lived nearly thirty-nine years of his life without her in it.

  <><><>

  Angelique watched from her spot at the opposite corner of the room, furious to have been passed over by Red for a piece of insignificant fluff like that. She’d known the man too many years to have missed the subtle clues of him holding back from her. Always too curious for her own good, she’d decided to come back and check out the reason for his evasiveness. Clearly, the competition was no competition at all…skinny and flat breasted to boot. Red liked his women with a little more meat on their bones and, to her knowledge he’d always been a breast man.

  What could she do? With last night’s warning still fresh in her mind, she knew she’d have to be careful. She watched calmly as he led that woman into the second dance, this one an extremely slow one. Within a few short minutes, she’d formulated a plan and positioned herself to make her move at the earliest possible opportunity. Judging from Red’s ridiculous show on the dance floor, there wasn’t a moment to spare.

  <>

  Feeling flushed, as well as lightheaded, Tiffany excused herself to go to the ladies room. Still glowing from Red’s reluctance to let her go, obvious from the way he’d slid his hand slowly down the length of her arm before releasing his hold on her, she walked away, fully conscious of his gaze on her backside.

  She’d just finished washing her hands when the door opened and a buxom, dark haired woman walked in the room. Meeting the woman’s gaze in the mirror, Tiffany was rather surprised when the beauty stopped just behind her.

  “So, you’re Red’s latest lay of the day? Join the club,” the woman said with undisguised disgust.

  Tiffany turned to face the woman. “Excuse me?”

  “I wish I could tell you that it’s a very exclusive club, but unfortunately it’s not. The membership must be in the hundreds by now.”

  Tiffany dried her hands, feeling sick to her stomach as the other woman stepped closer to the mirror and began to touch up her hair.

  “You know he uses that music, don’t you?” the woman said. “He signals the D.J. or the band to play songs to help put you in the mood. Then he makes his move and kisses you, oh so gently, making you feel like you’re the only woman in the room…” adding with an exaggerated sigh, “…or the world.”

  Tiffany’s heart sank as the woman gave a soft chuckle and shook her head.

  “Oh yeah, Red McAllister has had years to perfect his irresistible little act, and, trust me, mon amie, when I say I’ve seen many women fall to his charm, including moi…et vous, and you…naturellement..obviously. My advice to you is to run like hell, honey. I almost decided to keep my mouth shut about it, but you seem like such a nice lady, and we girls have to stick together, non?”

  Tiffany watched as the dark haired woman turned and walked out. Her gaze returned to the mirror, watching the shameful red stain begin at the base of her neck and continue on up to her face. Of course Red was a player—the man owned dance clubs. Just like she said, he’d had years to perfect his lines because he’d been playing his game for decades. It only took a few minutes for her coloring to return to normal so she could rejoin the group at the table. Her mind was sharp, clear…damned if she would be the one to cower off. Determined to let him know he wasn’t playing with a child, she resumed her place at the table. She’d endured five years of Tanner’s antics and she could damn well put Red McAllister in his place.

  Red gave her a bright smile. “Hey, Doc, are you ready for another beer?”

  Tiffany gave him a look, one she knew conveyed confidence and self-assuredness. “Make it a Crown and cola—just a splash of cola.”

  The request seemed to surprise him a bit, but he called the waitress over and ordered her drink. She felt her brother’s gaze on her, felt his burgeoning curiosity. Drake had always known Crown and Coke was her drink of choice when she was upset. He must have decided now was a good time to prepare for the drive home, because he ordered a bottled water for the next round.

  <>

  When Red asked Tiffany to dance the next slow song, she smiled politely before taking his hand. He noticed the change in her immediately, the coolness to her demeanor that hadn’t existed before. They made it through the entire song without her uttering a single word to him. She allowed him to pull her a little close at times, but for the most part she kept her distance, keeping her back board-straight and rigid. By the time she finally made eye contact with him, any sign of previous emotion she may have shown for him earlier was nowhere to be found.

  Tense with frustration, he wondered what the hell he’d missed that produced the change in her. The prickling sensation at the back of his neck alerted him to what he’d find, and he began to search the room for someone in particular. He couldn’t see her, but he damned well knew she was here somewhere, watching, and totally responsible for this. Resigned to the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it until later, he thought of the clubs hidden security cameras—particularly the one in the hallway outside of the restrooms. The cameras were there to protect both the patrons and the business, but tonight it would solve the mystery for him.

  He finally caught sight of her standing on the opposite side of the room and swore under his breath. Damn, he hated to be a hard ass, but that woman had used up her last chance with him. Their gazes clashed briefly and he nodded, acknowledging her presence. I’ll deal with you later, Angelique.

  <>

  Tiffany ignored Red’s gaze as she ordered another Crown and Coke. She remained stone still when he leaned forward to speak in her ear.

  “Why don’t you ju
st shoot tequila?” he asked.

  She turned to face him, making sure the icy veil covered her face. “Not with you around.”

  Red nodded, seeming to accept her answer, also seeming to sense how this night would end.

  An hour later, Tiffany finished her fifth Crown and Coke and asked for another. She intercepted Red’s obvious look of disapproval and frowned at his next comment.

  “Don’t you think you’ve had enough, Doc?”

  Tiffany pointed at Red, stopping within inches of his face. “Are you my daddy?” she said, hearing the slur in her own voice.

  “No, but if I was…”

  “Then I don’t have to listen to you,” she said, cutting him off. “Besides, Drakes my designated driver, aren’t you, little brother?”

  <>

  Drake tried to assess the situation, wishing he knew what had soured his sister’s attitude so quickly. “Yeah, but I think Red is right,” Drake told her.

  She turned on him, but before she could reply he closed the gap between them. “Look, I don’t know what happened,” he said in a voice only she could hear. “But you may want to get the facts before you tear this guy a new asshole.”

  She raised her angry, hurt gaze to meet his. “That’s the problem, Drake, I already got the facts.”

  Drake leaned in closer and whispered into her ear. “Now isn’t the time, Tiff. You’re the one who taught me to control my emotion, to own it…so pull it together.”

  To her credit, he saw her do exactly that, even in her inebriated state. The veil came down over her face, effectively erasing all signs of hurt or anger. She gave him a tentative smile. “I think I’m ready to go home, how about you?”

  Drake nodded, admiring his sister’s gumption. “I am too, we have a long drive and I’m tired.” He stood up and helped her to her feet. “Red...Everyone...it was nice meeting all of you. Tell Annie I’m sorry I missed her. Bailey, tell your husband I think his band is excellent.”