Girls' Night Out (Bad Boys)

by Susan Arden

  “How is Mama? Really. I can’t get a straight answer from Daddy and I haven’t had a chance to grill my brothers. Which I fully intend on doing. Carolina, with your medical background, tell me truth. Is Mama going to be alright?”

  Carolina captured her hands. “Everything looks good. She’s responding well to the treatment. Her condition has over a tremendous recovery rate. The treatment is advanced and the doctor is confident he can get this type of pre-cancer into remission. Early. I won’t lie to you, the chemo is hell. They basically eradicate the carcinogenic cells before they become truly cancerous. It’s a tough route. But Mama is strong. If anyone can beat this, she’d be the one.”

  “I wish someone had called me and told me.”

  Carolina’s brows drew together. “Oh Cory, no one wanted to worry you. Besides, they only just found out. And what was the point, with you coming home anyway? Mama is stable and now you’re home. She just needs to rest and relax and let the medicine do its job.”

  “But here, it doesn’t seem like she can rest. Especially with the holidays,” Cory mumbled.

  “We’re not letting her do too much. We all take turns bringing dinner over, and everyone has a turn with breakfast. Even your brothers are cooking, doing laundry, and washing dishes.”

  Cory laughed, her eyes going wide. “Really?” She’d like to see her brothers doing housework. They’d never shirk from backbreaking ranch work, but heaven forbid if one had to rinse a plate. Things really were changing.

  “Promise.” Carolina’s eyes sparkled.

  Cory inhaled. “I hope she accepts the help. …Umm, you know something.” She shook her head. She’d seen the look on her sister-in-law’s face often enough before leaving for school. “Out with it.”

  “Gillian set the date for their wedding,” Carolina whispered.

  Cory shook her head. “When?”

  “Hold on to your hat. In January.”

  “As in this coming January?”

  “Yep. The eleventh.”

  “They’ve only been engaged for four months. What’s the rush, and why are we whispering?”

  “You better ask your brother.” She held up her palms, swinging her head back and forth.

  “She’s pregnant. Isn’t she?” Cory sputtered, feeling conflicted by the pinch of worry and being over-the-top happy for Stephen and Gillian.

  “Could be.” Carolina smiled widely. “They are ecstatic.”

  “Three babies…” Cory twisted her hands together. “Man, this place started changing rapidly while I was away.”

  “Life has a way of going forward. Not backward.” Carolina patted her stomach. “I can testify.”

  Cory smiled, feeling less out of sorts since the family was rallying, and continued trying to get a sense of everything going on at Evermore. “Is Brandon still working on the ranch?”

  “He’s here and there and wild as ever. Maybe more so now that Stephen left a vacuum. Where else would he be?”

  “Nowhere,” Cory muttered, unwilling to open that can of worms. “And Miller?” Cory rapidly asked.

  Carolina exhaled and smiled. “Miller is the same. He and Virginia just moved into a larger house. Don’t know how much longer he’ll be here. His father-in-law had a quadruple bypass and Virginia wants to move to Dallas, keeps talking about getting Miller to take over for her father. Everything is big there. They’ve a chain of hotels and spas. Miller keeps saying we all should take advantage of them. We can go whenever we’d like.”

  “I sure could use a day.” Suddenly, an idea burst fully formed into Cory’s head. “We should. And soon.” She whipped out her cellphone and pressed her brother Miller’s number.

  “Are you finally here?” Miller asked on the fourth ring. She could hear the rustle of papers in the background.

  “Hey Miller,” she said sweetly, smiling over at Carolina. “Got a favor to ask.”

  CHAPTER 3

  The alarm clock blared and Cory fumbled in the dark to shut it off. Groaning, she tossed aside the quilt and slid out of bed, stopping to put on her slippers on the way to the bathroom. From her second story window, the exterior lights affixed to the barn twinkled in the darkness. Off in the distance, the muffled sounds of men’s voices rose and fell in a familiar cadence. The ranch was coming alive even though the sky was still bluish black.

  She returned to her dark room, blindly heading for the place she’d once spent a chunk of her time. Her parents had knocked down the adjoining wall that once created a spare bedroom to build—at her incessant haranguing—a closet that functioned as a storage space for her thriving online fashion accessories business. On this side of the house, it was all guest rooms and her bedroom.

  Her brothers, when they’d lived at home, were all situated on the opposite end of the house. She pulled open one of the closet’s double doors. The scent was familiar, as was the sight of built-in shelving, racks, and sets of drawers. Her stomach knotted at the cavalcade within the closet, packed full even though she’d spent weeks before leaving for school discarding a ton of unused and unwanted items to family, friends, charities, and the burn pile. Now, the rainbow of colors and the profusion irritated her, making the muscles in her neck and shoulders cinch together.

  Cory moved past the leather bench in the middle of the room, her slippers gliding over plush carpeting. Not a thing out of place in the oak paneled haven. She reached for a pair of her oldest faded jeans from a cubby of different hued designer denim. Shimmying into the soft material, she shivered and crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed away the chill bumps on her arms. Without much thought, she moved to the section of indoor warm clothing and pulled out the closest thing. Her fingers stroked a perfectly folded cream-colored cashmere sweater. She pulled it off the shelf and over her silk camisole. She ran her fingers through her hair, tying it up in messy knot at her neck. At this time of the morning, she was too tired to give a fig about her appearance.

  Well, not that much. She stopped to grab a scarf from the built-in set of drawers, her gaze scanning the shelf of picture frames of friends and family—mostly family. She swam through a maze of conflicting thoughts and worry. She sank down onto the floor of her closet, scanning the rows of shoes neatly arranged by style and color. Nothing had changed in her room. Same closet, same bed, but her family was changing rapidly. She crawled toward a pair of Mary Jane flats, past the shoes she’d worn on the plane and her memory returned to the flight and Brett Gold’s smart comment. Shaking her head, she sucked in her breath. That type of man was all sorts of unconventional inspired by a mile of sex appeal. She bet he was with a different woman every night of the week.

  Her brothers—most of them—were on their way to settling down permanently with a wife, and soon enough babies would be part of their family. She, for all her small-town popularity, had yet to meet a man who made her want to forget the importance of color coordinating her entire wardrobe.

  Inexplicably, her mind shot back to Brett and her stomach fluttered. That man had a way of talking that resembled rough velvet sliding hard against her skin. God, she imagined what it would be like to have his hands on her body. A spark of heat flushed her skin and she promptly rolled her eyes, tamping down the distracted feeling Mr. Gold provoked.

  Suddenly, she peered up at the racks and shelves, taking stock that here she pitifully sat in a closet daydreaming of a stranger. She groaned and picked up the nearest thing—one of the shoes she’d worn at the airport—and threw it with all her might. It hit the wall and fell and the effort didn’t help her feel better. Cory clenched her jaw, getting off her behind, and then yanking down on her sweater.

  Meeting her reflection in the mirror, she wagged her finger at herself. “Seriously, you need to get a life, not a life-size fantasy.”

  Down in the kitchen, beams from recessed lighting reflected off the granite countertops as she stood, peering up into a cabinet above the coffee maker. No one was about yet. This was unlike her usual appearance i
n the morning when breakfast had already been served and her boisterous family sat at the table ready to pass her a cup of coffee and a freshly baked biscuit.

  “Not here either,” she said to herself and moved over to the next set of cabinets looking for coffee and filters. So much for familiarity. Same kitchen, but she didn’t know where to look for what. She bent down, then kneeled on the floor and began another round of opening and closing cabinet doors. The sound of the back door shutting jarred her attention. A halting gait approached from the direction of the mud room.

  “Who is in here?” Miss Louisa’s drill sergeant voice rang out. And then the kitchen was awash in light.

  “Me. I’m looking for coffee,” Cory said, peeking her head above the island. She shut the last set of cabinet doors.

  “Haven’t you been to bed yet?” Miss Louisa asked, opening a drawer below the coffee pot and lifting out a white filter.

  “Yes. Of course,” Cory responded. “You don’t actually think I stayed up all night with Thanksgiving dinner to prepare?”

  Opening the top of the coffee pot, Miss Louisa dropped the filter inside, then turned to stare at her. “You did last year, and several years before that, too.”

  “Not this year,” she said quietly and stood her ground. “I want to help with the dinner.”

  Miss Louisa’s hands fumbled on the white porcelain canister she was holding. “Help?” The older woman smiled. “Your job has always been to arrange the napkins and centerpieces. We can’t begin that until after breakfast is served.”

  Cory stepped closer. “No. I want to help cook. Like you and Mama do. Starting with breakfast.”

  The other woman laughed softly. “That college sure is changing you.”

  “It’s not the school. I want to help make things easier for Mama.”

  Miss Louisa’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second and then her weathered lips tightened. “Oh. I see,” she murmured, scooping ground coffee into the filter.

  The coffee pot beeped and Miss Louisa faced her. “There’s a drawer in back of you. Get us two clean aprons and come on, then.”

  ~~~

  Seeing the turkey come out of the oven, Cory inhaled a deep breath of satisfaction. Mama looked over at her and smiled. “You did real good, baby doll.”

  Her whole her body hummed as a chorus of oohing and aahing rang out from the women inside the kitchen, accompanied by the flash of cell cameras. The whole day had been one big photo session. “You’d think y’all had had never seen a person chop, sauté, whisk, or mix ingredients.” Cory set the oven mitts down, admiring her handiwork.

  Lauren chirped, “Girl, we haven’t. Not when it comes to you.”

  The whole kitchen rippled in laugher. “Now hush.” She flashed a grin over at her friend.

  “The game is just about over and we can begin taking things out to the table. Gillian, can you brave the den and see how many minutes are on the clock?” Sarah asked.

  “Sure thing.” Gillian swung off her stool, winking over at Cory. Her almost-sister-in-law glowed. She’d known Gillian since high school. She’d been so serious in studying dance, she’d expected her to be off in New York or Boston, but she’d stayed in Annona, opening a dance studio in town. Before college Cory had taken dance lessons from her and even helped with recitals and teaching in her studio in town.

  “Okay, we’ve only a couple of seconds to talk,” Mama said. “I thought we should plan Gillian’s bridal shower.”

  “They’re getting hitched in January. We’ve got time,” Cory said, taking a heavy baking dish out of the oven.

  Her mom sighed. “She and Stephen are hankering to just get up and get married. So I suspect they might come back one day and say they eloped.”

  Carolina caught Cory’s eye with an arched brow, giving her that don’t say a thing about what I told you look. She nodded and glanced back at Mama. This would be perfect and draw the strings of her loosely formed idea into a neatly tied bow. She’d wanted to take her mother to a place to rest and relax, but knew she’d never agree to just up and leave the ranch to visit a spa.

  “I think we should all go to Dallas. You know, for a girls’ night out,” Cory said.

  All at once the whole group of women inside the kitchen stopped talking. Cory set the creamed corn casserole on a trivet on the island and looked upward, not having expected a stunned silence. Carefully, she paced her planned sales pitch. “We all could go to Virginia’s private spa. Her family said it would be fine. We’re all invited. They have a tour package where a privately driven car comes and picks you up. I think it would be fun.”

  “For sure, it would be fun. Crazy fun in Dallas.” Lauren laughed right on cue.

  “We’ll need something larger than a car,” Mama murmured, looking from face-to-face across the room.

  “More like a bus,” Carolina added. “As in largest possible.”

  A dense silence ensued. Cory asked, “Mama? They have them. I just have to call and schedule one. Really, Miller said he’d take care of the details. All we have to do is say the word.” Cory waited, holding her breath.

  “Sarah,” Miss Louisa began. “It will be good to get away. You know Stephen is itching to tie the knot with Gillian. You wait much longer and that girl will be Mrs. McLemore before you know it. I don’t give that couple two more days, let alone two months. We’d best be going if you want her to have a shower.”

  Mama nodded. “No argument there. Cory honey, set it up. If we can go this weekend, we’d better.” Then her mother leaned over to Carolina. “How in the world are you going to explain this to Matt?”

  Carolina folded her arms over her round belly and sweetly smiled. “Don’t you worry none. I’ll take care of my husband right after he’s eaten supper. Won’t know what hit him.”

  Cory winked at her co-conspirators, Lauren and Miss Louisa. They’d done it! She pulled her phone from her pocket and texted Miller. WE’RE GOOD TO GO. This weekend is a McLemore GIRLS’ NIGHT OUT!!

  Gillian reappeared in the kitchen with Stephen wrapped around her. “Look what I found,” she said, laughing.

  “Good,” Mama said, getting up from her seat. “We’re going on a trip. This weekend. Stephen, you’ll have to let go of Gillian for a couple of days. You alright with that, son?”

  His lips quirked. “No. But I suspect in a room full of women, the smart thing to do is quietly agree.”

  “Always said you were quick on your feet,” Cory said, scrutinizing Stephen and the way he pulled Gillian closer to him. “That doesn’t mean you can follow.”

  His brows shot up. “Would I do something like that?”

  “Gillian?” Cory asked. “You gonna answer that?”

  “Stephen wouldn’t do that,” she said, rubbing her hands along her fiancé’s arms while her eyes had gone round as saucers.

  “Yeah. Right. You better not.” Cory stated, and stared at him to make sure he understood. “She’ll be fine. Besides, you can hang out with Matt and Daddy to keep them from coming undone in our absence.”

  CHAPTER 4

  “Sweet Lord,” Bill Rollins yelled. He was the Devils’ head coach and he thundered at the pouring of icy water over his head and shoulders. “Players, you’d better run, ‘cause if I get my hands on you…”

  Brett refrained from rubbing his shoulder as everyone on this side of the stadium laughed, high-fived, and snapped jerseys at one another while leaving the field. The Devils rocked Arlington, trouncing the Redskins 27-7 in a sellout Thanksgiving game. Eighty thousand hooting and hollering in the stadium and the cheering still pulsed inside his head in a buzzing echo. Brett gained over a hundred yards and that meant he’d moved up in rank in his ability to catch and carry down the field. Yet there wasn’t a soul whom he could look up to in the stands and wave to during the game. And afterwards, there wasn’t anyone to hurry up and change for…no rush to get out the locker room door and speed away with to a holiday dinner. By now, his mother would be
almost asleep and he did his thing with the press before cutting away to shower.

  “Brett, what are you up to?” Rich Hayworth asked as he came into the locker room. Rich was a stocky defensive end recently traded from the Devils to the Cougars, and one of the few players who knew his history—both pre- and post-Daniella.

  “I’m going back home and probably chill. I’m beat.” Brett tossed his helmet into his locker.

  “Nah. You come on back with me. Marcie is expecting you and she said it’ll just be informal. Buffet and nothing fancy. We can kick back and talk shop. Looks like we’ll be doing a face off soon.”

  It was true. The Devils and Cougars might actually be in the playoffs this year but that still wasn’t enough of a reason to end up at a family dinner, especially with someone else’s family. “Don’t shit me. Your wife knows two speeds. Elaborate and extra elaborate. Besides, the Devils will trounce the Cougars.”

  “Doubtful. We may be a new team, but we’re all fire.” Rich laughed as he nodded to a few of the players. He swung his attention back to Brett. “Dude, I promise. It’s not that way. With a game, she didn’t know about time and it’s only family and friends stopping in, visiting. Hell, she’s got three single sisters.”

  “And I think I’d have my ass kicked if I tried anything with them. I’ve seen your wife’s brothers.” A definite no-go on his roster of possible dates. No women with brothers who’d want a piece of him. He’d done that once. Had to get a restraining order for both the family and the woman who kept calling him. “Thanks, but no.”

  Rich elbowed him. “Not an ugly one, and yeah, my brothers-in-law are a gang of ballbusters. There’s my wife’s friends don’t forget. They’re hot and don’t have any chaperones.”

  “I think I’m good.” Brett grinned. Single family of NFL wives were a death trap. They’d get a chokehold on any walking player and it would be hell to get loose.

  “A few have asked after you, after that barbeque last September. Come on. You know they’re a few worth the journey.”