opened up the second beer and took another long swig from it. At the creak of the opening door, he swung around to see his dad walking inside.
Red turned away, wishing just for once he could be left alone with his feelings. But alone time in this family wasn’t an option…not now…not ever. He didn’t realize his father had crossed the room to meet him until he felt a calming touch on his shoulder.
“ It’s overwhelming, isn’t it, son? Realizing that first time you’re in love?”
Red swung around to gape at his dad, prepared to deny it—defend his actions—or at the very least glower at the man for making fun of him. But his father stood steady and solemn, no trace of laughter in his voice or on his features...more proof of the seriousness of the situation.
Red released the huge breath he’d been holding and shook his head. “I don’t know what the hell’s happening here.” He lifted one clammy hand and clenched it to stop the shaking. When that didn’t work he downed the rest of the beer, wiping his mouth on his shirt sleeve. “I’ve never been afraid of a damn thing, Pop, but I’m not gonna lie to you. This scares the ever-loving shit out of me.”
Pete nodded, crossed his arms across his barrel chest, and finally chuckled. “That’s a common reaction for most men.”
Red shook his head. “I’m not ready for this.”
“ Scott, you’re thirty-eight years old. Besides, from what I see, you don’t have much choice in the matter.”
Red clapped his palms over his eyes and groaned, then froze as another thought overtook him. “Do you think I have a chance with her?”
Pete McAllister laughed and slapped him on the back. “I don’t know, Son, but I’d sure hate to see you lose a chance because you’re too scared to ask.”
“ Isn’t that what Paw Paw told you?”
“ Yep, now come on back inside. Your mother sent me to remind you that you’re the host of this party. Besides,” he said, nodding at the two empty beer bottles. “Two beers won’t change a damn thing. Hell, I stayed drunk for a week, and when I sobered up, I was still in love with your mother.”
Red tailed his father back into the kitchen, where his attention was immediately dominated by the beauty surrounded by his family.
Their gazes clashed and Tiffany’s initial smile turned into a look of worry. After addressing Bailey they both turned in his direction, as though studying him.
“ Oh, great,” Red mumbled to no one in particular. He tried to shake it off and busied himself strapping his guitar onto his shoulders. He made small talk with Jackson, wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans several times, all the while praying his act was convincing enough to throw his nosy sister off the scent. The women in this family were like a pack of wolves...one sign of weakness and they pounced, determined to discover the cause.
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,
Red turned away, wishing just for once he could be left alone with his feelings. But alone time in this family wasn’t an option…not now…not ever. He didn’t realize his father had crossed the room to meet him until he felt a calming touch on his shoulder.
“ It’s overwhelming, isn’t it, son? Realizing that first time you’re in love?”
Red swung around to gape at his dad, prepared to deny it—defend his actions—or at the very least glower at the man for making fun of him. But his father stood steady and solemn, no trace of laughter in his voice or on his features...more proof of the seriousness of the situation.
Red released the huge breath he’d been holding and shook his head. “I don’t know what the hell’s happening here.” He lifted one clammy hand and clenched it to stop the shaking. When that didn’t work he downed the rest of the beer, wiping his mouth on his shirt sleeve. “I’ve never been afraid of a damn thing, Pop, but I’m not gonna lie to you. This scares the ever-loving shit out of me.”
Pete nodded, crossed his arms across his barrel chest, and finally chuckled. “That’s a common reaction for most men.”
Red shook his head. “I’m not ready for this.”
“ Scott, you’re thirty-eight years old. Besides, from what I see, you don’t have much choice in the matter.”
Red clapped his palms over his eyes and groaned, then froze as another thought overtook him. “Do you think I have a chance with her?”
Pete McAllister laughed and slapped him on the back. “I don’t know, Son, but I’d sure hate to see you lose a chance because you’re too scared to ask.”
“ Isn’t that what Paw Paw told you?”
“ Yep, now come on back inside. Your mother sent me to remind you that you’re the host of this party. Besides,” he said, nodding at the two empty beer bottles. “Two beers won’t change a damn thing. Hell, I stayed drunk for a week, and when I sobered up, I was still in love with your mother.”
Red tailed his father back into the kitchen, where his attention was immediately dominated by the beauty surrounded by his family.
Their gazes clashed and Tiffany’s initial smile turned into a look of worry. After addressing Bailey they both turned in his direction, as though studying him.
“ Oh, great,” Red mumbled to no one in particular. He tried to shake it off and busied himself strapping his guitar onto his shoulders. He made small talk with Jackson, wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans several times, all the while praying his act was convincing enough to throw his nosy sister off the scent. The women in this family were like a pack of wolves...one sign of weakness and they pounced, determined to discover the cause.
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,
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