Texas Was You

Chapter 14

"Segs, when are you going to introduce us to your hot girlfriend?", teased Brad Marchand as the bartender set down their beers.

"She's coming later with Josephine, Jamie's girlfriend. And when are you going to find a chick, Marchy?", he joked.

"Not now, Segs. I'm not whipped like you", he joked as Tyler flipped him off.

Patrice Bergeron rolled his eyes and smiled at the two younger men, ordering a Jameson's on the rocks. "Mes amis, settle down", he teased.

"I'm just chirping on him, Bergy. I'm not whipped like you two", he retorted cheerfully.

"That's exactly what I do to Jamie, except he's a mature adult and not an ugly runt like you, Marchand", teased Jordie as Jamie flipped him off.

"I'm not old enough to settle with the old ball and chain, maybe when I'm old and bald and I can't get chicks. And speaking of which, Texas chicks are hot", said Brad appreciatively, his gaze falling on a sexy blond in cutoff jean shorts and a red shirt tied at the midriff.

Everyone had a good laugh as the homely, diminutive forward strutted over to the blond and she gave him a dirty look, Brad using the little game he had. The girl sighed and turned her back as he continued his spiel, finally throwing her drink in his face as the group laughed hysterically.

"Marchy, you have no game whatsoever", teased Jamie.

"This isn't Boston, Texas chicks don't like your short, big-nosed self", laughed Tyler.

Brad wiped the alcohol off his face and pretended to glare at them. "It's only a matter of time before I get lucky", he boasted.

Tyler's face lit up when he saw Lisette and Josephine approach, Jamie giving his girlfriend a kiss. "Marchy, this is my girlfriend Lisette Roussel. Lisette, these are my friends Brad Marchand and Patrice Bergeron", he said.

Lisette raised an eyebrow when she smelled the alcohol on Brad. "Some chick didn't like me, ma'am. Oh well, Texas chicks are hot and I'm gonna get lucky sooner or later", he laughed.

"You have no game at all, Marchy. Excuse mon ami, mesdames", said Patrice gallantly, kissing their hands.

"Merci, monsieur Bergeron. Sont Francais?", asked Lisette.

"Oui, mon maman est Francaise de Quebec et mon pere est Irlandais de Belfast, je me appelle Patrice Bergeron-Cleary", he replied.

Tyler tried to stop the jealous feeling growing inside him as he put an arm around her shoulders, giving the dark, handsome Frenchman a dirty look. "Segs, I have no intention of hitting on your girlfriend, you know I'm married in fact. In fact, Stephanie and I are having a baby", said Patrice.

Tyler blushed guiltily as Jamie tried not to laugh. "Congratulation, Bergy. Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?", he asked.

"Not yet, she's only three months along. It's probably going to be a boy, both the Cleary and Bergeron families have a lot of boys", he replied with a laugh.

"But what if it's a girl, you're going to have to get the shotgun out", teased Jamie.

"That might be tough, neither Massachusetts or Quebec have easy gun laws. But it's going to be a boy", said Patrice firmly.

Tyler said something to the bartender and a shot glass of Jameson's and a pint of Guinness were set before Patrice. "This is for you, Big Daddy", he joked.

"Merci, mon ami", said Patrice, knocking back the shot and chasing it with the Guinness.

Lisette was about to order her usual gin and tonic but decided on something different. "I will have a Three Wise Men", she told the bartender.

"That's my girl", said Tyler proudly.

"Give me one too, Johnny Black", said Josephine.

Lisette took a deep breath when the bartender set down the drink, the small cup holding a deceptively small amount of liquor. She drank it in two gulps as the men applauded, a blush forming on her cheeks. "Hon, you are drinking like a Texan", teased Josephine as she did hers in one gulp.

"Benn, does your girl have a hot sister?", laughed Brad.

"Nah, I'm an only child. I got some relatives in Louisiana, crazy Cajun coonasses on the Cajun prairies", she joked.

"Ooh, hot Cajun chicks", said Brad eagerly.

"They right crazy, they got shotguns and wrestle gators", she deadpanned as Brad looked horrified.

Meanwhile, Antoine had arrived at Isabella's house in Plano as he parked the truck outside. He turned off the engine and walked towards the front door, feeling as nervous as he had been before his first game.

"Bonjour, madame Alvarez. Is Isabella here?", he asked.

"Yes, and you are Antoine?", asked Camilla Alvarez, raising an eyebrow at the Frenchman.

Antoine flashed her his most dazzling smile. "Oui, madame Alvarez", he replied.

"Mom, this is Antoine Roussel. Antoine, this is my Mom, Camilla Alvarez", said Isabella.

"Don't get back too late", said Camilla as Isabella groaned.

"Oui, madame Alvarez", said Antoine.

"Mom still thinks this is Mexico, girls get chaperoned on dates there", said Isabella as Antoine helped her inside the truck.

"Lucky you are in the US, mademoiselle Isabella. Since mes amis are out drinking, what do you have in mind?", he asked.

"Let's go to the Top Rail, unless you don't know how to dance?", she teased, an amused look in her brown eyes.

"Oui, I can dance. I am French after all, mademoiselle", he drawled.

Antoine parked the truck in a nearby garage and handed the keys to the valet. There was no line to get into the old time western dance hall as they went straight to the bar and ordered drinks, a Lone Star and a shot of tequila for him and a straight up margarita for her.

"Very nice, guys usually get girls those crappy frozen ones", said Isabella, taking a sip of her drink.

"How would you know that, ma belle Mexicaine?", he asked, knocking back the tequila and chasing it with the beer.

"Please speak more French, Antoine, it's a sexy language. And I have been on dates before, Senor Roussel", she teased.

"Of course, femmes belles always have dates. And only if you speak Spanish to me more, ma belle Mexicaine", he said gallantly.

Isabella gigled, a blush on her cheeks. "Tu eres un hombre mas mal, pero me gusta", she said.

"I'm not bad, I am French. I can understand some Spanish, it's similar enough to French. Maybe you can teach me, mademoiselle Isabella", he said.

The couple finished their drinks and Antoine led them over to the dance floor, the small band onstage playing some vintage Western Swing. Antoine took her hand and led her in a two-step, a smile forming on his face. "I know how to dance, ma belle Mexicaine", he teased.

"Yo se, Senor Roussel", she replied saucily as he just laughed.

Antoine stifled a sigh as he parked in front of the ho use, helping Isabella out of the truck and escorting her to the door. "Bonne nuit, Isabella", he said.

"Buenas noches, Antoine", she replied, kissing his cheeks and entering the house.