Brown Eyed Girl Page 6

  Within seconds Red knew his half-assed attempt to hide his discomfort lacked the ability to keep said wolves at bay. He turned to his left and nearly ran over Bailey, who immediately tried to put a hand to his sweaty brow.

  “Red, are you okay? You look a little pale, and you’re sweating,” she said, her brow furrowed with concern.

  He batted her hand away irritably. “I’m fine. I just ate too much.”

  She didn’t look convinced. “Do you need something? I practically travel with a pharmacy.”

  He pushed her hand away as she tried to feel his forehead again. “For crying out loud, would you stop? I don’t have a temperature, Miss Nurse Practitioner.”

  Jackson leaned in close to Bailey so that only she and Red could hear him. “Besides, why would he settle for a nurse practitioner when all he really needs is a bona fide doctor?”

  Red glared at his friend, and sat back down in his chair. “There’s still thirty minutes to kick off,” he announced. “Any requests?” He kept his head lowered, feeling the heated flush suffuse his face. He glanced up in time to see Bailey and Melissa, heads together, whispering and staring at him. He watched, in horror as one by one, the women in his family gathered, the veritable pack of she-wolves in one corner of the room. Tiffany stood at his left elbow, talking animatedly to Jackson and Giselle, seeming oblivious to his sister’s actions, thank God.

  “Any more requests?” Red called out again.

  Annie looked up with a wicked gleam in her eye. “How about When a Man Loves a Woman,” she called out loudly.

  Red looked darkly at her. “No, pick something else.”

  “Gary Alan’s Loving You Against My Will,” Melissa threw in with a chuckle.

  Red shook his head. “Something else...”

  “The One by Gary Allan?” Bailey asked as he continued to shake his head and send his sisters looks that could kill.

  “Jake Owen’s Don’t Think I Can’t Love You,” Rebecca added.

  “Or maybe James Otto’s Just Got Started Loving You,” Kathleen chimed in.

  Red glared at his sisters, thinking he’d like to throttle every last one of them the first chance he got. He shook his head in disgust, and started up a quick paced tune by a popular country artist. It was a safe tune about a guy with no commitments, and it was something with no female vocalization, so he wouldn’t have to hear Tiffany sing.

  Afterwards, Jackson sang a favorite of his wife’s then he and Giselle performed a duet, prompting a standing ovation.

  Red checked his watch. “We’ve got time for one more.” His heart clenched in dread as his mom raised a hand, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Red, I’d like to hear something Christmassy to ring in the season.”

  He could feel the tension ease from his shoulders, so relieved at her request. He knew her favorite Christmas carol and it was safe, to say the least. His relief was short lived as his mother voiced her request.

  “I’d love to hear a duet...Baby, it’s Cold Outside...Please?”

  “But, isn’t The Little Drummer Boy your favorite Christmas song?” he asked, as an uneasiness crept back into his bones.

  “It is, but your dad and I watched that Elf movie last night and the duet those two characters sang was lovely.”

  He watched his mother weave her way through the crowd, stopping in front of Tiffany, just as he suspected she would. Here it comes…the final act of treachery

  “Do you know it, Tiffany?” she asked.

  Tiffany nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I surely do.”

  Red was already shaking his head no as Vivienne turned to him. “Mom, are you sure you wouldn’t rather hear The Little Drummer Boy?”

  “No, I’m sure I’d rather hear this one, dear,” she said, sounding convincingly innocent to everyone but him.

  “I bet he’s too scared to sing that with Tiffany,” Annie threw in, as everyone in the room snickered.

  Red glared at his sister then looked up at Tiffany as she stood beside his chair, her face, a pallet of amused smugness.

  “Bok...Bok,” she said.

  Red stared at her. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me,” she answered, before continuing her imitation of a chicken. “I said...Bok...Bok...Ba-cawk!” Soon, everyone in the room joined in with various chicken sounds.

  Red snorted then shook his head as he cursed under his breath. He looked back at Tiffany. “Are you ready to sing?” he asked, loud enough to make his traitorous family’s clucking and crowing get replaced with whistles and applause.

  Tiffany’s eyes crinkled with laughter. “I don’t know, McAllister—did I pass your test?”

  “Your ass!” he said, before calling his family a bunch of turncoats. “Get on up here…Tiffy.”

  Tiffany walked up to him and poked his chest with a finger. “Keep it up, chicken man,” she said, as he repositioned his guitar. Red started playing the mellow guitar opening as Brandon and the rest of the musicians joined along. Tiffany sang the first lines of each stanza with Red picking up the back-up lines. During the guitar solos she entertained both him and their audience by placing a finger on the top of his head as she pirouetted playfully around him. As their voices blended, ending the song in perfect harmony the room exploded in cat calls and cheering.

  Red put his guitar down to stand and take a bow along with his duet partner. Tiffany laughed delightfully as he pulled her close for a big hug. “Are you having fun yet, Doc?” he asked before releasing her.

  “I haven’t had this much fun since college,” she admitted.

  Almost as if Tanner could somehow sense the lifting of Tiffany’s spirits, Red recognized the tell-tale ringtone coming from her phone.

  “Why am I hearing Linda Rondstadt?” Melissa asked.

  Red snorted, but resisted revealing the ringtone’s owner as he caught Tiffany’s glare of warning. She stopped, listened for a few moments before switching off her phone.

  “Could I give the hospital your number?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “I’m on call and he’ll keep calling if I leave my phone on.”

  “He knows you caught him in the lie?” he whispered.

  “Of course, and he’s crawfish-ing trying to get out of it.”

  Red fought the urge to smile at the sound of pure disgust in her voice. Instead, he handed her a cordless phone and one of his business cards with his number on it.

  “Thanks,” she said, before disappearing through the patio door.

  He watched her from the window, turning when he heard Jackson’s voice at his elbow.

  “What the hell was that about?”

  “She’s giving the hospital this number so she doesn’t have to hear any more of Tanner’s lies. Apparently he’s not where he’s supposed to be.”

  “Imagine that,” Jackson said. “I think someone needs to tell Tanner he’s about to be replaced.”

  Red shook his head. “I don’t know about all that.”

  “The question is, are you willing?”

  “I’m not sure,” Red murmured. He continued watching Tiffany outside on his patio and suddenly knew nothing was further from the truth. “Yeah...I am,” he confessed.

  Jackson gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. “Your mom’s gonna kill you if you screw this up, you know that…right?”

  <><><>

  Tiffany hugged herself, wishing she’d grabbed her jacket before coming outside. She heard the door open, and knew without looking it was Red.

  “You okay, Doc?” he asked before placing her jacket around her shoulders.

  She thanked him, even as she kept her eyes on a pasture that was knee deep with winter grass. “It’s so peaceful out here. The condo Tanner and I live in is so...well…far from this.”

  “That’s an easy fix,” he said. “Just move.”

  “I’d never get Tanner to move out to the country. He loves being in the middle of things.”

  “Don’t you have anything to say about it?”

  “Sure I do. I tell him I hate it
and he says we’re staying put.”

  “Why does he have to be the one to get his way? Have you ever heard of compromising?”

  “I have, but Tanner hasn’t.” She shrugged and turned to face him, bracing for the effect the sight of him would have on her. Her breath caught anyway, the way it always did when he appeared in her line of vision…Always standing tall and straight backed, oozing a confident masculinity without being pompous. When was the last time Tanner had this effect on her? Had he ever?

  “It doesn’t matter. I let it happen, and it’s just like your mom said…Why should he stop if I don’t make him?”

  He shoved his hands into his pocket and looked down, scuffing his boots on the brick pavers. “My mom?”

  “Yeah, we had a talk in your pool house earlier.”

  “What about?”

  “Me, Tanner,” after a pause she added, “my parents.” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and cleared her throat. “You’re a very gifted musician. I love your voice.”

  “Thanks, but yours is better. Who do you get it from?”

  She answered with a careless lift of shoulder.

  “Don’t you know?”

  “We didn’t hear any singing in my family. I honestly don’t know where it comes from,” she said.

  He ran his right thumb and fingers lightly over his five o’clock shadow and seemed to contemplate her answer. “Do you play any kind of instrument?”

  “Mother forced me to take piano lessons, but I never took to it. I can play enough to bang out a few Christmas carols at the children’s ward hospital parties but that’s about it. Now my brother, Drake, on the other hand, is truly gifted. I guess he still plays,” she finished in a low murmur.

  “Don’t you see him?”

  “I see him twice a year, when we go to our parents for the two parties they require us to attend. One is for Christmas and the other is an annual fundraiser.”

  “So, you’ll be in Houston for Christmas,” Red commented.

  “The Christmas party is always the weekend before.” She crossed her arms and looked down at her shoes. “God, we both hate it.”

  “Then don’t go.”

  “I have to.”

  “Why?”

  “Good or bad, they’re still my parents.”

  “Will you be disinherited if you don’t go, or something?” he asked.

  She turned to him. “Now, why would you ask that?”

  He readjusted his stance under her scrutiny. “I’m wondering how important money is to you.”

  Her brow furrowed in annoyance. “I don’t need an inheritance. I make out well enough on my own.”

  “Me too,” he said, shrugging.

  “What exactly do you do?”

  “I’ve owned a string of business over the years, but I currently own a club in Lafayette and I’m about to open another one here in Lake Coburn.”

  “What club?”

  “Oh, you may have difficulty remembering the name,” he said, grinning. “It’s called Red’s.”

  She stared up at him, unable to hide the impressed look on her face. “You’re that Red?”

  He laughed. “I believe I’m the same Red I’ve always been.”

  “Some co-workers went and told me how nice it was. No smoking right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “What made you do that when Louisiana still hasn’t passed the law?”

  Red walked over to a flower bed and bent over to pull a stray weed. “My Uncle Ben, dad’s brother, died from lung cancer due to smoking. It’s the one thing I can do.”

  Tiffany followed him to the bed of pansies and leaned over to pluck some winter grass from between the bright purple and gold blooms. “Doesn’t it hurt business?”

  “There are a lot more non-smokers out there than smokers. I have four rules. No cigarettes, no drugs, no fighting, and no drunk drivers—we’ll call them a cab. We ask for a decent sized cover charge, and in return people have a nice time. So far, we have a lot of repeat customers.”

  “You said you went to LSU, right?”

  “Yes, business degree.”

  “Bachelors?”

  “Initially—I got my degree summa cum laude. I got a job after graduation and went to night school for my Masters.”

  “Top honors while playing Tiger baseball?” she asked.

  “You sound skeptical,” he said, flashing that devilishly handsome grin of his. “Would you like to see my degree? It’s framed and everything.”

  “How would I know it’s real?” she teased.

  He grinned down at her. “I’ve got the documentation to back it up. We had several Magna cum Laude graduates in my family, but you are looking at the one and only Summa cum Laude of the McAllister family, honey, and don’t think my mom wasn’t above throwing that around at the Garden Club meetings.”

  Tiffany smiled, imagining Mrs. Vivienne doing just that. “Did you study harder? Did you do less partying than the rest of your siblings?” she asked, curious to know more about this man.

  He chuckled. “I partied plenty—the truth is I have this ability to retain and recall information. Facts, numbers, notes, quotes, music, and lyrics, it all comes easily to me. If I read or hear something once, I remember it.”

  She snorted. “That’s the kind of thing that annoys a roommate.”

  “Yeah, it used to irk the hell out of Jackson. We bunked together during my sophomore year when he was a freshman. Then he got hurt and transferred out of the athletic dorm. You know about the shoulder injury, right?” When she nodded, he continued. “It didn’t matter though. By then we were best friends.” He looked down at his watch. “You know we missed the kick-off, right?”

  Not wanting to end the conversation with him, she met his gaze. “You ready to go inside?” The slight shift of his head let her know he felt the same way.

  “Not really,” he said. “So, did mom give you any advice you could live with?”

  “She absolutely did. You and your siblings are lucky, you know.”

  “We realize that.”

  Tiffany turned toward the patio doors. “I was watching your parents in there and I realized that I don’t have one single memory of mine showing affection for each other. Their marriage was always more like a business arrangement. My dad has always had his mistresses and mother has her kept men.”

  Red’s voice betrayed a genuine sadness at her confession. “I’m sorry for you.”

  She met his gaze again, letting him know with a look instead of words that she appreciated his concern. She started to say something then thought better of it.

  “What is it?”

  She smiled, wondering why she wasn’t surprised that he could tell she was holding back. “It’s just that it worries me—maybe they warped Drake and me. That’s one reason I’ve stayed with Tanner. If I hook up with someone decent, I’m afraid I wouldn’t know how to act. I’d probably scare him off.” Red emitted a low chuckle that caused a fluttering in her stomach.

  “I have serious doubts you could ever do anything to scare me off, Doc.”

  Tiffany cleared her throat and turned so he couldn’t see her reaction to his statement.

  <>

  She turned away from him, but not before he caught the slight flush of her skin. He smiled, pleased that his statement had that effect on her. “Besides, look at Jackson. Fifteen years with Chloe only made him appreciate Giselle more.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  “But, you’ll never know unless you cut him loose. It’s not likely Tanner will make as sudden an exit as Chloe did.”

  “I should hope not,” she said, tapping the heel of her boot on the pavers.

  “Hey, if you want to keep talking and watch the game, I’ve got a big screen in the pool house. Interested?”

  She rocked back and forth balancing on her heels, and gave him a brief nod. “I’d like that.”

  He led her inside to two chairs and a table in front of the large screen set hanging on the wa
ll. “Do you want a soft drink or a beer?”

  “I’ll take water since I’m on call.” She rubbed her belly and grimaced. “Besides, if I drink a beer after all that food I’ll be down for the count.”

  Red turned the set on and found the game. “So, did my mom reveal any family secrets?”

  “She told me the sweetest story about when your dad rescued her and her sore toes.”

  He handed her a bottle of water and sat next to her. “Ah, the Everly Brothers...My old man could work it, couldn’t he?”

  “Your maternal grandfather helped him out a little.”

  “Yeah, gave him the all clear. Did she tell you about how my dad’s parents met?”

  “No, were they both Irish?”

  “My grandfather came over from Scotland after World War II, but my grandmother was an Hebert (pronounced A-bear) from Gardiner. My mom was a Broussard (Broo-sard) and she was from there, also. Those names are common in south Louisiana. So, I’ve got strong Cajun roots with a Scottish last name.”

  “How’d your grandfather end up in Gardiner?”

  Red sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “He came to the states looking for a place to work as a farm hand. Gardiner, being a farming community, was the ideal place for him. He didn’t know anything about rice farming, but he told the man who hired him that he was a quick learner.”

  “How did he meet your grandmother?”

  “She and her sisters had gone to a dance and she saw him standing alone in a corner. My grandmother decided to be polite and went over and introduced herself. Pops had been in town less than a week, and spoke with a Scottish accent so thick my Maw Maw could barely understand him. But they danced together all night long. She taught him all the Cajun dances, and by the end of the night he was an expert.”

  “Now I know where you get your dancing skills,” she teased.

  “Maw Maw told me when she got home, her older sister asked if she didn’t mind all of that carrot red hair. Maw Maw told her she’d never noticed the color of his hair—all she’d seen were his blue eyes. She called him her red-haired, blue-eyed devil from Scotland—said he had just enough mischief in him to make life interesting. That’s who we have to blame for the red hair and freckles.”