Game (Gentry Boys, #3)(4)
When I was growing up, no matter what the season was, there was always something blaring from the padded theater room in the basement; a game, a match, a race, anything men could gamble on. Sports in the Bransky house didn’t mean what they meant to everyone else. I’d known that from the time I was a little girl even if it took a few more years for me to realize the mechanics of what my father did. He never minded letting me in on the terminology although he wouldn’t allow me to clerk for the business no matter how much I argued for it. That was a privilege reserved for my older brothers, Robert and Michael. Nick Bransky didn’t seem to know what to do with a daughter. One minute he was indulgently handing me his credit card and telling me to shop for something pretty at Roosevelt Field Mall. The next day he would be hell bent on educating me about the finer points of a parlay. I think he tried to be a good dad, although I never really forgave him for the way he carried on with various women, especially while my mother wasted away.
Then there was Robert.
It wasn’t fair to blame my father for that, even though Robbie’s unsolved murder could almost certainly be traced to the crooked shit Nick had gotten him wrapped up in. My father lost his wife and his oldest son in the same week. Nine months later he was sent upstate and shortly after that I left New York. We kept in touch sporadically and he would probably make parole next year. He’d never said a word about me running a sports book although I figured someone had likely told him because the world was always smaller than it seemed to be.
I hung around the bar for a few more minutes. The Cubs got back two runs in the bottom of the seventh and the drunk who was sprawled on the barstool came to life. A few of the men idling nearby glanced at me but their eyes immediately glazed over as they searched for something more provocative. I knew I looked younger than I was and my body language didn’t really invite conversation.
A man and woman at a nearby table were pawing each other so eagerly they just had to be minutes away from heading upstairs to hump like animals. Sometimes I wished I had a clue what made everyone so bat shit over sex. I wasn’t completely immune to desire, but what did it mean when I liked thinking about it a hell of a lot more than I enjoyed actually doing it?
When a bearded dude plainly wearing a wedding ring offered to buy me a drink I figured that was my signal to finish the night alone in my room. It was a nice room and I had it all to myself. I knew a few people in Vegas and had been able to secure a sweetheart deal on rooms for everyone who flew out for the wedding.
As I headed to the elevator I couldn’t wait to be alone, to tear this silly dress off and lounge on the bed in a t-shirt while I caught the last few innings. And yet, some vague piece of me felt a little sorry to be leaving the lights and the energy behind. Maybe that was why my knees turned weak when Chase Gentry slid into the elevator a split second before the doors shut. He smiled at me.
CHAPTER TWO
Chase
This was a damn good day. One of the best. I’d stood up next to my brother and watched him exchange vows with the girl he loved. When the door opened and Saylor began walking down the aisle on the arm of her father, everyone looked at the bride. Not me. I looked at Cordero. There was nothing but joy in his face as he watched her come closer.
It seemed like only an hour had passed since it was just the three of us brothers, scraping by and lurching from one good time to the next. Then one moment changed everything. It was the brief pause in the universe when Cordero Gentry bumped into Saylor McCann on a hot desert night.
As Saylor’s father kissed her cheek and handed her off to Cord, I tore my gaze away from the groom and looked at her. She was ecstatic, luminous. I absolutely loved that girl for the way she loved my brother. Saylor had every reason in the world to despise the three of us forever. We’d been unredeemable dicks, to her and to countless others back in the hazy days of youth in our hometown of Emblem, Arizona. Instead, she had allowed Cord to show her how he’d become so much more than the white trash Gentrys everyone thought we were. She’d given herself to him unreservedly and made him whole.
Their vows were simple, as vows should be. I had no doubt that the rings they gave one another would be forever. At the end, Cord took her face between his hands and gave her a long look of complete reverence before kissing her softly. Then he hugged her to his body, resting his head on her shoulder as he closed his eyes and ignored the applause of a roomful of people. We didn’t matter to them.
Creed shot me a stern glance when I started sniffling. He thought I was full of shit. Creed always assumed I was full of shit. But I wasn’t faking those tears at all. As I watched Cord become a husband I felt like I was seeing him cross a more unofficial threshold. I’d never seen a man so happy, or so deserving of that happiness.
After everyone was done hugging and congratulating, we all headed to a small room down the hall. The faint noise of the casino rang through the corridor. Once we got to the reception room, Creedence had his guitar out and sang Steve Miller Band songs as the guests filed in. Anybody might have assumed it was a strange musical background for a wedding but I understood the choice completely. The music made me think of those late spring days when Saylor came back into our lives. It made me think of listening to the boys sing as I sat up in a hospital bed, laughing so hard my damaged ribs nearly cracked.
My cousin Declan jostled me as we made our way to the reception room. He grinned as some cheap snatch hung onto his arm. Lord only knew where he’d picked that up. I doubted he’d carried it all the way up from Emblem, where he still lived. Deck had scoffed at the idea of flying with the rest of us. He would take the trip on his bike or he wouldn’t take it at all.