Girls' Night Out (Bad Boys) (22 page)

“Yes. We’re going to the hospital and then we’ll be on the road,” Mrs. McLemore answered.

“You coming up tonight?” Mr. McLemore asked.

Brett felt his eyes widen, then thought, of course they’d know that—Cory had to fill them in on why she wasn’t returning to Annona with them. He wrapped his hand around the back of his neck.

“We’ll be there about ten.”
Was that too late on a Sunday?
Wait. Cory wasn’t a child and he needed to calm down. He wasn’t intending to ravish her all day in his bed for Pete’s sake. Nothing to feel guilty about as he faced her parents. “I’m taking her to meet my mother.”

“So soon,” Mrs. McLemore said, and then looked up at her husband. “You’re not planning anything rash. Are you?”

“Afterwards, I’ve a public service commitment, and another stop to visit some friends. Later a team dinner. Pretty standard for a Sunday.”

“I think what my wife means is you’re not planning on bringing our daughter home…a married woman.”

Brett stared at them and had no idea how to respond. If he could he just might, but so far—in the last six hours, anyway—no concrete plan had materialized. “Not this weekend,” he said lightly, then quickly added when they both gaped at him, “I’d ask your permission before I did anything of that magnitude.”

They both laughed nervously. “We really didn’t think so. Just checking,” Mr. McLemore said.

“Have a safe drive.” He pressing the elevator button.

“Are you staying the night in Annona?” Mrs. McLemore asked.

“I thought I’d just turn around and return.”

She frowned. “Nonsense. You can stay with us. Then get an early start tomorrow. The ranch comes alive well before dawn.”

“Thank you. I’ll think about it.” The elevator doors opened.

“No sense battling the weather. You’re staying with us, Brett,” Mrs. McLemore reached out and shook his arm. “Promise me.”

“All right,” he said. “Thank you.”

“We’ll see you later,” they said in unison before walking out into the lobby.

Stepping into the elevator, he glanced down at his watch. The jaunt through the lobby had taken fifteen minutes and had been more intense than a postgame press conference. He had one minute to get to Cory’s room before he was officially late. He watched the numbers light up on the elevator panel and exited on the sixth floor, glancing at the sign with arrows pointing right and left for the rooms. He stopped trying to figure out which direction and then took off in a sprint until he found her room. Leaning against the doorframe, he knocked, and held on to the wall, counting the beats of his heart.

The door opened and he almost tumbled inside. “You can’t imagine the pandemonium going on this morning on account of you,” Stephen mocked, opening the door wider. “You’d better get inside before my sister decides to change again, making that the tenth time.

“Stephen, I swear, you better get hold of yourself,” Gillian said, coming up behind her fiancé. “Hey, Brett. Don’t listen to him.”

“Man, I’m not lying. And anyway, it’s a good thing.”

“I shouldn’t ask.” Gillian arched a brow. “But why?”

Stephen shrugged. “That will probably be the first and only time those clothes ever get worn before my sister gives them away.”

Brett followed them through the short entry and into the room. He didn’t have words to describe how beautiful Cory looked in a jean skirt, boots, and tight sweater. She wore leggings that might have covered her skin, but in his mind, accentuated her long legs as she walked over to him.

“Stephen McLemore, that’s rich coming from the man who had me ordering him new clothes and household goods for…just when was that? Oh yeah, when you started dating Gillian.” Cory laughed and reached for Brett.

He pulled her against him, kissing her cheek, and inhaling her fragrance already branded in his awareness. His whole body tightened with her tucked up snug as a bug under his arm.

Her brother slipped on a leather jacket. “I’ve no problem with wanting to look good. I’m arguing for moderation. And I think we all can agree, I proved that point.”

“Really. The man who drove from Annona to come and check up on his fiancée on the night of her bachelorette party is lecturing me on moderation. We’ll see, Stephen.” Cory smiled up at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “He talks big.”

“I watch over what’s mine and she knows it. Loves it. Later,” Stephen said, wrapping his arm around Gillian. “We’ll catch you two tonight.”

“Be careful on the road,” Gillian said. “Hugs.”

“Give me a second,” Cory moaned. She went to them for a quick group hug.

“Take it easy,” Stephen held out his hand to Brett.

“You too,” Brett returned.

Walking by, Gillian patted his shoulder and Cory stepped over to the mirror to pick up a wool cap. The door closed and she gazed at him from the mirror as she pulled the cap down on her head. “Has it started to snow yet?”

“A little. Not much. The road will be clear most of the way,” he said. He’d checked directions and the weather, and there was only one storm coming through. A call for patchy freezing rain, not much else.

She turned to him. “I hope I look alright to meet your mother. My brother was right. I changed clothes like a maniac.”

“Cory, you’re beautiful. And she’ll like you. I mean it.”

She grimaced. “I want her to do more than like me.”

“My mom and I are close.” He let go a serrated breath. “But not like your family. She’s concerned about me. It feels more intense. Like a laser. Your family surrounds a person, enfolds, and it’s a cloud of concern. I think both are good, considering who we are and what we need.”

He didn’t know if he should bring up what he’d gone through with his learning disability. Because of the press and papers, he’d addressed the issue in media conferences arranged by the team and his agent, and he actively spoke about the need for educational reform and resources, taking up the cause with the advocacy group he sponsored, but it wasn’t something he could just start talking about if no one asked.

She glanced down, picking at her sweater. “My family is way over the top.”

“That’s not what I meant. I like being in their midst. I don’t know what it’s like to grow up in a family like yours, but it feels real good being around them. That’s what I was trying to say.”

“Thank you. I bet I’ll feel the same about your mom.”

CHAPTER 18

Cory wasn’t prepared for the self-assured and lovely woman who sat up in bed, smartly dressed in an emerald green robe and matching hair band. Alberta Gold was poised and today she didn’t require oxygen, which Cory quickly realized was a concern in around-the-clock nursing facilities. She and Brett waited until the nurse finished with her assessment and Cory squeezed his hand.

The nurse smiled. “Ninety percent oxygen. You’re doing so well today.”

“Spunky as ever.” Brett unleashed a huge grin. He was the spitting image of his mother. Same high cheekbones, wide charming smile, and deep green eyes that flashed in amusement.

“Brett, I’m so happy to see you.” His mother held open her arms.

He walked forward to kiss his mother’s cheek and hugged her. “Looks like you’re doing great today.”

“Wouldn’t miss this day,” his mom responded, smiling graciously over to Cory.

“Mom, I want you meet Cory McLemore,” he said, while pressing his fingertips to the small of Cory’s back. “Cory, my mother, Alberta Gold.”

“I’m so pleased to meet you, Mrs. Gold,” Cory shook his mom’s hand.

“Cory, how nice to meet you,” she said, smiling at her while patting her son’s arm. “Let me get a look at you both. I want a picture. Estella, are you about?”

The sound of shuffling feet came from the kitchen. A woman wearing a Devils’ jersey appeared, carrying a tray set with a steaming teapot and mugs. “I’m coming. What are you up to now?”

“Don’t you start,” Mrs. Gold cocked her head. “Estella, can you take a picture of the kids, please? I can’t figure out how that camera phone works.”

Estella set the tray down on the table placed between two chairs off to the side of the bed. “Come sit down. Brett, how’s it going?”

“Good. Getting ready for the next game. Estella, I’ve brought someone special. Cory, this is Estella. ”

“Happy to know you,” she said, shaking Cory’s hand with a firm grip. Estella winked at her. “He’s as much a handful as his mom. But sweeter.”

Mrs. Gold waved her hand. “Cory, you watch yourself in the vicinity Estella. She is known to have a warrant on her head for bending the truth into a pretzel.”

“Pshh!” Estella rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “You sure ate up those yards on Thanksgiving. We were hooting and hollering. Weren’t we, Goldie?”

“We had our jerseys on. Stop hogging the conversation and show me how to take a photograph.” The two women cracked smiles from ear to ear. Cory got that their ribbing was good natured and easily smiled back at them.

Estella lifted a pair of glasses she wore on a chain around her neck, reaching for the iPhone Mrs. Gold held out. “I just got your mom up and running on the other cellphone and you had to go and change it. Next time, let me know in advance so I can prepare. There. Just hit the circle at the bottom of the screen.”

“Okay. Let me try.” Mrs. Gold held up the camera, her brows drawn together as she moved the camera out in front of her body. Her arms shook, but Estella reached out to help her steady her grip.

“Say cheese,” Mrs. Gold said. Brett pulled her close as they faced toward the camera.

“Oh, that’s a nice one. You did it,” Estella murmured. “Take another so you remember how.”

“I wish I had more strength in my arms,” Mrs. Gold responded, and then pushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead. “One more.”

“You’re doing fine. Look, you remembered how to bring up the program. That’s a step in the right direction. Took me days,” Estella said.

Cory’s smile broadened as she stood there with Brett’s arm around her. She thought of her mother and Miss Louisa. Even with all the mishaps that had transpired, her mother and Miss Louisa weathered the trip with chipper attitudes, minus the one short period when she’d been missing. Close just like these ladies, who seemed to have been together long enough to know when to joke, when to push, and when to be a cheerleader. Estella took several photographs of them standing close to Brett’s mom, and Cory took a couple with the three of them.

“I’ll enjoy looking at this one,” Mrs. Gold said, but Cory didn’t know which of the photographs his mom was referring to. “Precious.”

“Which?” Cory asked.

His mother showed her the one taken of Cory and Brett. “Would you like a copy? Estella knows how to send them, don’t you?”

“I guess I’m going to learn,” Estella grumbled.

Mrs. Gold continued, “Would you like some hot cider, or we’ve coffee, tea, juice…?”

“I’d like some cider, thank you.” Cory sat in the chair and listened to Brett answer his mom’s questions and gave her a rundown on the week ahead. His mom knew more about football than most people, Cory imagined. Or maybe, it was because she was on this side of the profession and she knew what to ask. Mrs. Gold rattled off the names of players and coaches, plays, and formations as they sipped their cider. Cory glanced around the room done in light blues and beiges. The apartment was in a gated retirement community just outside Dallas. The layout was open with a living room and dining room and then a large master suite. She didn’t know what the rest of the apartment was like and wondered if Estella lived here as well. Estella came back with another tray holding a platter of the baked goods that Brett had brought.

She offered a small plate to each of them and helped Mrs. Gold choose a few of the gourmet cookies, shooing her away from a chocolate croissant. “You know Brett brought that just for me.”

“Oh, I forgot. Here, look, I’m taking the raspberry scone and the cheese pastry.”

Estella looked at them and huffed, “I’m telling you. I have to watch her every moment of the day. You can’t imagine what it’s like playing cards with sticky fingers over here.”

“You all play cards?” Cory asked. “I told Brett how much I like a good card game, but so far we haven’t played.”

Both Estella and Mrs. Gold stopped nibbling on their pastries and stared, unblinking, at her. “You do?” they asked in unison.

Brett almost choked, “Oh no. Don’t you two even try to sound innocent. Cory, beware. You’re in the midst of a pair of card sharks.”

Mrs. Gold laughed. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Pardon, Mom, but who was asked to leave an unnamed casino in Houston?”

She waved her hand. “Pishposh. It was a mistake. Really, imagine us.” She motioned between Estella and herself. “Putting one over on a casino. How utterly absurd.”

Estella had gone mute and Brett chuckled. “I think your name and photograph and that of your sidekick are still posted for counting cards.”

“Fine. If we ever play, it will be for Cheetos or something equally benign.”

He breathed out a long exhalation. “I don’t know what to do with you sometimes.”

“Just love her. If you don’t she’ll whine and sulk until your next visit,” Estella muttered.

“Brett, son. Why don’t you show Cory the photo album?”

“Don’t fill her head with nonsense while I’m gone.” Brett rose and ran his knuckle along the side of Cory’s jaw. “Be warned. She’ll have you promising her a trip to Florida if you’re not careful.”

Estella rose as well. She bent over the tray and picked up the teapot. “May I help you?” Cory asked.

“You’re very sweet. I can manage. Would you like something from kitchen? Goldie?”

“I’m good,” she said and glanced over to Brett’s mom.

“A glass of water, please, Estella.”

“Be right back with more cider and water.” Estella nodded.

“Cory, be a doll and hand me my glasses.” Mrs. Gold pointed to a table by the window. She went and retrieved the glasses, then a photograph of a younger Mrs. Gold caught her attention. It had to be his parents. The man next to Brett’s mom was in uniform, tall and built like Brett. Her gaze lowered and she noticed a walker partially hidden by the curtains in the corner. The realization of what it must be like for his mom and for Brett hit her full force. Returning to the bedside, she smiled at Mrs. Gold.