Draw (Gentry Boys #1)(24)



“SAYLOR!” my cousin bellowed, banging on the door. “Pizza!”

He might as well have blasted me with an arctic spray. The mood was killed and I finished my shower feeling supremely idiotic. By the time I got out to the kitchen Bray and Millie had polished off half the pizza. I took a slice and nibbled idly while they made cow eyes at one another and talked in that intense couples’ babble that only people who are in love can stomach.

“Hey?” Brayden kicked me under the table and raised his eyebrows over his beer. “Are you okay?”

I tried to smile. “Say is okay.”

Millie offered me a pitying look and glanced at Brayden. I concentrated on chewing my pizza and tried to forget my bathroom daydream. I didn’t need a bout of wild sex to complicate my life. I needed a better job than serving chicken at Cluck This. I needed to find my own way.

“Cord Fucking Gentry.” I hadn’t realized I’d said it out loud until Millie and Bray gave me twin looks of bafflement.

“Cord Gentry,” Brayden said and raised his beer in a mock toast.





CHAPTER EIGHT


CORD



Chase wasn’t going to let me off the hook easy. “What happened to the thrift store wardrobe?”

I frowned, shifting the truck into park. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Creed laughed from the back seat. “Yeah, you’re all pressed and shit. Got your Timberlands on. You even shaved today.”

The door made a violent screaming sound when Chase threw it open. “Jeez man, you’re makin’ us look bad.”

“Just behave your damn selves, would you?” I grumbled.

“Hey,” argued Chase, “if you didn’t want to risk abject mortification why did you invite us?”

“’Abject mortification?’” I parroted, shaking my head. “Anyway, I didn’t invite you fools. You just sort of attached yourselves to me.”

Creed pounded me on the back. “Can’t help what began in the womb. Anyway, we like chicken too.”

“That’s right,” Chase grinned, giving eyes to a leggy redhead. “We like chicken too.”

The place smelled like the recesses of a deep fryer. My brothers made a beeline for the bar while I took a table in the back and stared at a menu. It was Sunday evening but the place was crowded, although I had never seen Cluck This when it wasn’t crowded. The restaurant enjoyed a prominent location on University Drive and the sheer number of people who wandered around Arizona State University night and day ensured its success. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Chase and Creed take interest in a pack of cackling sorority girls.

“Hi,” said a perky voice. “My name is Saylor and I will be your waitress tonight.”

Goddamn, she looked better every time I saw her. Her cheeks were flushed from bustling between tables and her long brown hair hung loose and shiny.

She smiled sweetly and cocked her head. “Can I get you anything to start?”

You, honey. In my lap. Grinding the hell out of this fresh boner.

“I’m just here for the health food you promised me,” I told her smoothly.

“Well,” Saylor said, clicking her pen with mock efficiency, “we offer fried chicken in a greasy wire basket, fried chicken between starchy bread with a pickle, and gourmet-style fried chicken with the bones of the bird intact.”

“I’ll take Greasy Basket Chicken and a Coke.”

She jerked her head over to Chase and Creed as they simultaneously downed shots at the bar. “You the designated driver?”

I held her eye. “Something like that.”

She stared back at me, all wide green eyes and creamy skin. She started to say something, then stopped with a troubled look on her face. “You want to order for them too?”

“Baskets all around.”

“How cute,” she grinned. “You’ll match.”

When I stood up abruptly it startled her. She took a step back, a wary look in her eyes. He’d done this to her, I realize with a stab of rage in my soul. He’d made her afraid. I lowered myself back into my chair. She was looking at my hands.

“No work tonight?” she asked.

“No,” I said flatly, “no work tonight.”

She hesitated. “I’ll put your order in and be right back with your drink.”

“Hey, Saylor?”

She turned around, her head tilted in the most sweetly curious way. “Yeah?”

“Your name tag is on upside down.”

She looked down. She let out a soft chuckle. “I did that on purpose,” she lied, fixing it. “To confuse all the rabid lechers who proposition me.”

I tried not to sound too interested. “Are there many of those?”

She laughed again and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Cord. In spite of some evidence to the contrary, I can take care of myself.”

I watched her go, not bothering to distract myself from picturing her bare ass in my hands as I hauled her body back and forth to suit my needs. But it wasn’t the night for that and so I tried to think the boner away by internally reciting the Pledge of Allegiance.

Chase kicked a chair over as he approached the table. A trio of skinny guys two tables over gave him a hard look but he narrowed his eyes at them in a silent dare and they returned to their nachos.

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