Girls' Night Out (Bad Boys) (24 page)

“Excuse me, does this come in a forty long?” A gentleman showed the salesman a dark jacket on a hanger. “I don’t see any on the sales rack.”

The salesperson marched forward, obviously putting her out of his mind. “Thank goodness,” she muttered to herself, walking into the narrow hallway and breathing in shallow, panting breaths. Clasping the door handle, she wondered if an alarm would sound when she opened it. She bit her lip. Either she risked it or tried her luck at running through the department store, continuing the game of hide-and-seek with Brett.

Here goes nothing. Tensing her shoulders, she pushed until the click of the lock sounded and nothing else. The cool air poured through the crack at the door jamb; she widened the open space and surreptitiously stepped through. She was in an alleyway and took out her cellphone.

“Please, come get me,” she said when Stephen answered.

“Now simmer down. What on earth has happened?” he asked in a low voice.

She didn’t want to worry her brother, but she had no choice. She swallowed hard, managing a feeble answer. “It was a whole lot of awful. I’ve made a huge mistake and let’s leave it at that.”

“Seriously, you’re doing something rash. Are you sure you won’t regret this?”

“I’d regret staying more. I don’t want to. Isn’t that enough?” Her voice crept upward in volume and she griped the cell.

“Cory, just for kicks, tell me what’s got your riled up to the point of wanting to leave and Brett isn’t the one bringing you back. Where the hell is he?”

She paused for a second, and shivered at the cold current of wind that passed by. “I ran away.”

“Pardon me.” Stephen didn’t miss a beat. “You did what?”

“You heard me. I’m in an alley at the rear of the mall. It’s the one down from the hospital. Same main road, I don’t remember the name. I can use the GPS on my phone and send you the location.”

On the other end of the phone, the pause grew unbelievably long. “Okay. But I think you should call Brett and talk. You don’t have to stay and I’m coming for you, but for Pete’s sake, Cory, call the man.”

“I’ll think about it. Are you really coming to get me?” She wrapped an arm across her waist, her teeth starting to chatter.

“I’m walking out to the car as we speak.”

She ducked into one of the doorways, trying to get out of the freezing rain that had started to fall. “Thanks. You never let me down.”

“Call Brett, then, and don’t let me down.” Stephen muttered.

“I promise. I’ll contact him.” She didn’t know if it was the rain or she’d finally stopped trying to maintain her control, but her cheeks were pelted with droplets of moisture…large, salty, and warm.

CHAPTER 19

All he could remember before hell broke loose was talking with his agent; then he’d hung up and turned to see Cory heading into the mall. Brett wondered if he’d not heard her say something, but when she glanced back and didn’t answer him, the pit of his stomach gave way.

His agent had been giving him the good news that finally the contract negotiations for a block of commercials had come to an end and he’d gotten what he demanded. He’d wanted to celebrate with his girlfriend, not hunt her down.

Girlfriend.

Jesus, that’s what she felt like. Not some maybe date. He should have sat her down and explained this wasn’t a trial run. As far as he was concerned, he knew exactly where their relationship was headed from day one. Rushing through the parking lot and then patiently waiting for the congestion at the entrance to clear had almost pushed him into the deep end.

When he finally burst through into the store, the music and bedlam had his mind whirling in bewilderment. He didn’t do lots of bright colors and chatter and a million sales signs with grace. His dyslexia overwhelmed him in these situations, making deciphering his environment that much more difficult. It felt like everything began to run together. He spun around, looking for Cory’s red cap and matching sweater, but there was every hue of red known to the planet inside that department store. A moving target was not easy to spot in these holiday conditions.

Upset, he plowed forward, unable to decide which way to go. Maybe she’d gone to the bathroom. He walked forward, hopefully able to spot a sign or better yet, Cory McLemore.

He took out his cellphone and began typing a message.
“Where are you? Are you okay?”

He waited, cell in hand while he walked around the counters, looking for one specific beauty. He scanned over the crowd of people, his eyes searching for Cory’s caramel-colored hair. Over and over, store staff asked if they could help. People spritzing fragrance, giving out samples, and the throngs of shoppers surrounding him had beads of sweat erupting over his forehead. Glancing at his phone, he encountered a blank screen. No message and no Cory.

“Excuse me, where are the restrooms?” Brett asked a man at one of the counters.

“Upstairs. Take the elevator and they’re to the left. Can’t miss them.”

He nodded and headed for the escalator. That’s probably why he didn’t see her here, she was up there. He inhaled a whiff of the just-sprayed cloud of floral perfume and coughed. Riding the escalator, he thought he caught sight of her moving…dammit. It was her. He gripped the rubbery handrail, tracking her movement, and his heart thundered in his ears.

He couldn’t yell across the store.

Couldn’t bridge the span across to the escalator going down.

Couldn’t backtrack…oh, hell. Yes, h
e could and he did. “Excuse me.” He raced down the upward moving steps,
excusing himself again as he tore downward.

He leapt over the remaining three steps and skidded across the polished floor, almost knocking into a mannequin. He righted himself and continued moving forward. He’d done this before, surefooted his way over opposing players, ball in hand on his way to the end zone. He arrived in the suit department and scanned the area as he pivoted in a complete circle but Cory was gone.

He walked up to the salesperson. “Excuse me,” he said, out of breath, “There was a young woman here. Golden-brown hair, wearing a red cap.”

“Oh, yes,” the salesperson replied, straightening a row of suits. “Are you looking for her?”

“Yes. Do you know where she went?”

“Yep. Upstairs. She lost an earring and was crawling around on the floor. She left here on her way up there. Straight up the escalator. There’s a big sign in the corner. You’ll find her there, if you hurry.”

Brett scratched the side of his head. “Thanks,” he muttered and walked off, already assured the chance of them having missed each other at the escalator was nil. He reached for his cell and still nothing. That lengthening silence made the reality of this whole ordeal come crashing down. In all the time they’d spent together, she answered her cell like she was an operator at Grand Central Station. He’d thought it dizzying, the number of texts she answered and the calls she took. She kept up with her phone. That act he’d already witnessed on several occasions.

He walked over to the escalator this time, slower and with less conviction. Dutifully, he’d go upstairs but a flicker of apprehension coursed through him. He located the Lost and Found department and asked about Cory, only to confirm that his gut instinct was correct: she had not gone upstairs. Confused, he walked back out to his car, hoping that she’d be by the door with a wisecrack about waiting for him, and they’d laugh this off.

~~~

Sitting in his car, Brett closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and wracking his brain for an explanation. Then his cellphone vibrated in his hand and he sat forward, reading the incoming text. It was from Cory.

I caught a ride back home with my brother. Don’t call me.
Each of the words Cory had texted him seared his brain. He could see the message without looking down at his cellphone. Fuck.

He called his friend, Alex. “Hey man, I can’t make it. I’m on my way out of town.”

“No problem. Call when you get back. The kids will miss you.”

“Dude, I’m so sorry. I’m chasing a woman.”

“Oh shit. Been there, done that. No need to explain,” Alex assured him.

“Tell the kids I’ll make it up to them on Wednesday night.”

“No worries. We’re going over Jiggle Bells, then outside for a game. I promised to show them some Devils moves. They’re dying to know how to punt the ball.”

Brett felt his neck muscles knot worse than ever before. What did his physical therapist and the trainers always say? Breathe through the stress.

“Thanks for covering for me,” he muttered, feeling his whole chest constrict. He wanted to shake Cory. What had gotten into her head?

He sure as shit didn’t know. He texted her back.
What did I do????

Well, he’d be damned, but she wasn’t just going to up and leave and that would be the end of it. She might try, but he’d seen scrambles and all sorts of upsetting moves on the field. Last thing to do was lose his head. He shifted gears and plugged in his phone. He pressed the preprogrammed directions he’d stored in his GPS app on his cellphone. Destination: Annona, Texas. Evermore Ranch.

Slipping on his sunglasses he turned onto South Freeway, practically flying down the street toward I-30. Less than three hours, he estimated, not too bad.

Doing damn near triple digits, he made it in two hours and thirty-five minutes. Dust rose as he made his way down the narrow dirt road his GPS indicated. No wonder. It led him toward a side entrance to the ranch and a locked gate. He backtracked, driving along the miles of wooden fence rails bordered by endless grey skies overhead, which were pretty much a reflection of his mood. He noticed several men on horseback and a large truck off in the distance. Christ, they weren’t lollygagging either. Some sort of cattle roundup was going down.

He pulled onto a wider gravel road that led to a paved street winding through pine trees, then stopped at the impressive entrance to the ranch. He idled in front of twin stone gateposts, the heavy wrought iron gates thrown open. A large arched sign spanned overhead that read
Evermore Cattle Ranch
. There was smaller writing. He drove closer to read the inscription.
Established 1905
. Jesus, talk about roots. The expanse of the McLemore family must stretch across Northern Texas while digging deep down. Nothing was going to shake this family apart in the near future.

Not wanting to wait out on the road, he drove forward. On either side were pastures with horses. Different from the type he owned. These were specially bred roan quarter horses with dark coats and striped legs, but then he noticed the silver one. Christ, it had to be a rare breed with the dark mane, light eyes, and bluish-buff coat. A man with a loop of rope whistled and the horse’s ears pricked up and forward. The man kept his gloved hands down by his side, the rope almost hidden by his leg. Brett watched the man talk to the horse, his voice too low to comprehend. Little by little, the man got closer and closer to the snickering horse.

On the other side, another pasture stretched into the distance and held three dark beauties. More quarter horses, and these cantered smoothly, moving together seamlessly. They stopped, then two arched their necks while the third reared up, a high-spirited female. Another high-spirited filly came to mind.

He downshifted and gritted his teeth. Cory was so damned stubborn. He wondered what her reaction would be at finding him waiting. Soon enough he’d uncover the answer. If they stopped for lunch, he imagined they’d be here in an hour or so.

Up ahead a large ranch house came into view. White, with a wraparound porch that had the rockers she’d referred to. Not exactly what he envisioned when Cory spoke of her parents’ ranch and house. There had to be hundreds, if not thousands, of acres here, and a house that was grand in scale. He parked and looked across the yard. There were numerous pecan trees and a koi pond, set alongside a slate and stone walkway. He reached for his phone. No message. Not a flippin’ word.

He typed another text.
I thought we had something. Don’t cut me off. I don’t even know what I’ve done.

His finger hovered over the send key. Maybe he should alert her to the fact that he was here waiting. It wasn’t like he was sneaking around her parents’ house. There were plenty of men about and he decided against it. He hit the ‘send’ icon and shoved his phone into his pocket. He opened his car door, stepped out and stretched. After driving straight from Dallas, he needed to get the circulation back into his body.

Damn, Cory still refused to give him the time of day. She said not to call, and so he hadn’t. She failed to say anything about not showing up here. Fair was fair.

Brett followed the stone path away from the house and found that it ran into a gravel walkway. Up ahead were outbuildings and more fencing. The ranch was huge, on a scale he didn’t really understand, not being a rancher. His experience in the saddle was scant, more like something he’d done when he was trying out the tack and supplies he’d purchased for his few horses at home. Nothing like here, where men worked with horses as part of their team. He followed the worn trail over to the larger building and what looked to be the main barn. Maybe there’d be someone around who might know when the McLemores were due. Inside the temperature dropped, but with the grey skies outside, it felt better here where the wind wasn’t whipping his body. The barn was dim and cool, steeped in the scents of leather and earth and hay. A horse neighed from a stall and he walked farther inside.

“Hello?” he called out.

A man stuck his head out from the last stall. “Can I help you?”

Brett walked up to meet him. “Yeah. I’m waiting on the McLemores. You wouldn’t happen to know when they’re coming back?”

The man released his hold on the colt he’d been bottle-feeding. He exhaled and pushed his hat back on his head. Same blue eyes as Cory, same golden-brown hair. The likeness was unmistakable and almost unbearable, staring at him coolly. Shit, even this dude’s grimacing expressions were uncanny in their resemblance to Cory McLemore.