Game (Gentry Boys #3) Page 11

  She was listening. “Why?” she whispered.

  “Why?” I repeated and thought about it. Stephanie was beautiful. But there were beautiful girls everywhere. There were smart girls and nice girls and girls who would bend over backwards to please me. “Because there’s no one else like you,” I finally said.

  Stephanie looked down at her bandaged wrist. “You did a good job. It feels better.”

  I grinned. “Watched an internet video on my phone before I knocked on your door.”

  She nodded. “I learned how to replace my brakes from an internet video.”

  “You could probably learn neurosurgery from an internet video.”

  She laughed. “Probably.”

  I reached over and pushed her hair behind her ears. “Come out with me.”

  Stephanie looked down at herself doubtfully. I wanted to kiss her, to seize her, to get inside her again. But more than that I wanted her to trust me.

  “Give me five minutes,” she said, rising from the couch.

  I laughed. “No girl can get ready in five minutes.”

  Stephanie looked down at me and lightly kicked my leg. “I’m not just any girl, Gentry.” Then she turned and hurried down the hall to her room.

  “Don’t I know it,” I muttered and ran baseball statistics through my head in an effort to ease the uncomfortable stiffness in my dick.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Stephanie

  Shoes were a problem. I had thrown on a simple black dress I hadn’t looked at since shoving it in the back of my closet, but I didn’t have any nice shoes. It hadn’t mattered at Saylor’s wedding because Truly’s long gown masked the fact that I was wearing flip-flops. This dress was casual enough to wear flip-flops but the strap on the left one had broken the other day and I didn’t have any others. Truly’s shoe size was smaller so I couldn’t go plundering her closet.

  I’d promised Chase five minutes and five minutes were almost up. My heart was pounding at the idea of him sitting out there in the living room, waiting for me. When I’d heard the knock on the door a little while ago I stopped breathing for a minute. I wanted it to be him.

  After settling for a fairly clean pair of grey Converse sneakers, I rooted around in my desk drawer to find the few makeup items I still owned. I squinted into a small compact and fluffed my hair out, glad that it was nearly dry from my earlier shower. After carefully applying a little bit of eyeliner and a touch of lipstick I picked up the purse Truly had lent me for the wedding. There was no full-length mirror in the apartment but I figured aside from my odd footwear I probably looked all right.

  The look Chase gave me when I returned to the living room confirmed it. He was right where I’d left him. “Five minutes thirty seven seconds,” he said. He smiled but there was a fire in his blue eyes that let me know he was taking this occasion completely seriously.

  I swallowed and nervously smoothed my dress down even though it didn’t need to be smoothed. Chase stood up and walked over. I thought he would kiss me or touch me, maybe make some lascivious sex joke, but he did none of those things. He held out his arm and raised an eyebrow.

  “Shall we, pretty girl?”

  Chase was determined to take me out for a nice dinner. I told him fast food would be fine because I didn’t want him to blow a bunch of cash he didn’t have.

  “No,” he said, evidently insulted. “This isn’t a burgers and fries kind of an outing. This is a steak and caviar event.”

  “Have you ever had caviar?”

  Chase drove with one hand. He let the other hand hang out of the window of his truck. “Nope. Have you?”

  “Yes. It was disgusting.”

  “It’s fish eggs. It’s supposed to be disgusting. But we’re supposed to lap it up anyway and marvel over our own self importance because we have the ability to pay a hundred dollars an ounce for something that tastes like ass.”

  “Rich people like ass.”

  He glanced at me wryly. “Are you speaking from experience?”

  “I’ve never tasted ass. But yes, there was a lot of money in the air when I was growing up, not that it matters now.”

  “I see,” he said and then changed the subject. “How about Medley’s? And no whining about the price. I’m paying and this is a special night.”

  “Is it?” I asked quietly.

  Chase looked straight ahead and still didn’t make a move to touch me.

  “Yes,” he said stubbornly.

  Medley’s was quiet and dimly lit. Chase requested a table in the back. I let out a low whistle when I saw the meal prices.

  Chase heard me. “Shut up,” he ordered, looking over the menu.

  “Fuck you,” I grinned.

  He grinned back and there was a naughty edge to his words. “Told you I wouldn’t try that again, at least not today.” He glanced up when the clean-cut waiter approached. “Surf and Turf for two, please.”

  “Chase,” I sighed after the waiter scurried away.

  “What? Are you going to get all bent out of shape because I ordered for you? Please use a lot of foul language if you’re going to scold me.”

  “How did you know?” I asked quietly.

  Chase was confused. “That you like steak and lobster? Doesn’t everyone? Besides it’s the priciest thing listed so of course that must mean it’s the best.” He winked at me.

  I squirmed and spread my napkin on my lap. “It’s a slightly chauvinistic move but it doesn’t bother me. I was asking about something else though. Is that all right?”

  He was paying close attention now. Something you had to notice about Chase is that when he decided to listen he really listened. He’d put away his bad boy smirk and he laced his fingers through mine. “You can ask me anything, Stephanie.”

  I paused when the waiter brought our water glasses. There were no other diners in close proximity but it was still galling to ask Chase Gentry, a walking prototype of sexuality, about a comment he’d made this afternoon.

  I cleared my throat and got on with it because I needed to hear the truth. “You said earlier that after we were together in Vegas you could tell that I hadn’t been around much. So how’d you know? I mean, was it just that terribly obvious?”

  Was I a rotten screw?

  Chase looked at me thoughtfully. The he got up from his chair and came around to my side of the table, slipping his arm around my shoulders as he leaned in close to whisper in my ear. “Steph, it was so fucking good that I can’t think about anything else.”

  He quickly returned to his side of the table and took a drink of his water while I sat there and tried not to shake on the outside like I was shaking on the inside. What the hell was I letting this guy do to me?

  Everything. And more.

  Chase put his water glass down and gave me an arch look. “Can I ask you a question now?”

  “Yes.” And the answer was indeed yes. Whatever his question was, my answer was an immediate, undoubted yes.

  Chase crossed his arms and appeared to be puzzling over me. “Who are you, Stephanie Bransky? All I really know about you is that you’re from New York, you want the world to believe you’re a raging bitch and you drive me nuts in the most outrageously beguiling way.” He leaned forward again, nudging me with his knee under the table.

  “What do you want to know?” I asked.

  Chase asked pointed questions and I gave him honest answers. I knew he hadn’t come from a fairy tale background and wouldn’t look at me sideways when he learned about my family. I was okay talking about my father’s trial. Nick Bransky had crossed the line when he branched out from an illegal sports book to extortion and race fixing. I could accept that the material comforts I’d grown up with were gone. I had trouble talking about my mother’s death though.

  “What kind of cancer?” Chase asked gently.

  “Pancreatic.”

  He frowned. “That’s a tough diagnosis. I’m sorry, Steph.”

  I cut my steak into tiny pieces. I hadn’t eaten much of it. “A
t least she died two days before Robbie. She never knew her son was murdered. I’ll always be grateful she never knew.”

  “And what about your other brother?”

  I shrugged. I could track Michael down if I really wanted to. And then what the hell would we talk about besides the agony of our shattered family? Michael was only a little over a year older than me and he had been born a tyrant. Out there in the world on his own I would be surprised if he wasn’t involved in something really bad.

  “And guys?” Chase asked with a small smile. He’d already eaten every bite of his food.

  “I’ve known a few,” I said curtly.

  “No one special?”

  “What do you think?”

  Chase wasn’t smiling anymore. “Honestly, I think someone might have hurt you. I also think you’re not going to tell me a damn thing about it.”

  I would have been willing to summarize my limited experience with men. But there was no way in hell I was going to let him know what I’d endured courtesy of Xavier. Chase would pity me and there was nothing worse than pity. I heard the sharp sarcasm coming out of my mouth, even though I knew Chase didn’t deserve it. “Damn, Gentry, how do you stand being so hot and so packed full of insight into the female mind? You must be busting at your muscular seams.”

  Apparently Chase didn’t get offended easily. He leaned back in his chair and laughed.

  “More,” he said with a sparkle in his eye.

  “More what?”

  “Yell at me some more.”

  “You’re sick.”

  “And hot apparently.”

  “Like you need me to flatter you. You’re Chase fucking Gentry. You have a floating campus fan club.”

  Chase cocked his head and gazed at me. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  I swallowed and looked at the table. I’d never been good at accepting compliments, even when they flowed far more often and freely than they had these last few years.

  Chase called for the check and paid with cash. He got annoyed when I tried to chip in.

  “I’m trying to be a gentleman,” he grumbled, giving me a stubborn glare. “So let me be a gentleman.”

  He took my arm again as we left the restaurant. The feel of his muscles underneath his shirt was making me a little bit unsteady. I just kept flashing back to the way I’d run my hands over his shoulders this afternoon as he got on top of me and put his mouth on my breasts.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. He was smiling again. Damn him, he knew exactly what was going through my mind. Chase didn’t wait for an answer though. He wrapped his arm around my waist and gestured down the street. “Let’s walk over to The Hole. Creed’s singing there right about now.”

  The street was quiet. Chase kept his arm around me as we walked. When I glanced over at him his expression was deep, pensive.

  “What do you know about me?” he asked in all seriousness.

  The question caught me off guard. I knew he was sexy as shit, that he seemed to enjoy attention and that his chronic sarcasm mixed strangely with his sharp intelligence. I knew he fascinated the hell out of me.

  From the things Truly had told me I also knew he came from an abusive background, loved his brothers fiercely and that lately he’d been battling an addiction to prescription pain pills.

  “I know there’s nothing simple about you,” I said.

  Chase held me closer. For some reason I felt my answer made him happy. He paused briefly and gave me a quick kiss on the lips.

  The bar was the only pulsing spot on an otherwise dark street. I could hear music already and recognized Creed’s voice. He did have an amazing talent. Despite the gruff way he presented himself he was able to put such feeling into the words he sang.

  Not being a country western fan, I’d never been inside the bar popularly nicknamed The Hole. It was small and a little more well-lit than other bars. There were over a dozen tables lining the walls and all were occupied. A tiny dance floor in front was likewise crowded. Nonetheless, Truly found us immediately.

  “Oh my god,” she squealed, grabbing our arms in disbelief. “Is this what I think it is?”

  Chase stood behind me and possessively crossed his arms over my chest. “Yeah, I’m her bitch now.”

  Truly still looked flabbergasted. “Steph?”

  I had no idea what the hell to say. Chase poked me. “Go on, tell her, honey.”

  “He’s my bitch,” I said, feeling ridiculous.

  Truly just stared at us. “What happened to your hand?”

  I’d forgotten all about my slightly sprained wrist. Chase decided to make a joke out of that too.

  “She injured herself trying to whip me into shape.” He stretched and groaned. “Hurt me more than it did her.”

  Truly just rolled her eyes. She knew when Chase shouldn’t be taken seriously. I remembered what she had told me about not knowing where Chase’s head was at, and about how it might be wise to stay away from him.

  Impulsively I tore out of Chase’s grip and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “I couldn’t help it, Truly.”

  She whispered back. “I understand, sugar.” Then she shot Chase a look. “You be good.”

  He grinned. “I don’t know how else to be. Vouch for me, Steph.”

  I elbowed him. He suddenly took my face in his hands and kissed me hard. In the background I heard Creedence wrapping up, thanking the crowd for coming out. When Chase and I stopped kissing I looked at the stage. Creed was looking back at me. The expression on his face was not a happy one.

  Chase and I chatted with Truly over the din of the bar crowd as we waited for Creed to join us. She had recovered nicely from the shock of seeing us together and as she watched the way Chase kept his arm around me I could tell she was pleased.

  Creed finally showed up with his guitar. He smiled when Truly hugged and kissed him. Then he stopped smiling when he looked at me and Chase.

  “What’s this?” he asked with a slight undercurrent of hostility.

  “It’s midnight mass,” Chase joked, then started to pull me and Truly toward the exit. “Let’s get out of here. I’m feeling claustrophobic.”

  “So what are you guys up to now?” Truly asked when we got outside.

  Chase seemed to be thinking. “I don’t know. What does one do on a proper date?”

  Truly glanced at Creed. “Well I think we’re going out for a late bite to eat if you’d like to join us.”

  Creed was quiet. That wasn’t unusual for him but it came off as an unfriendly kind of quiet. Maybe he’d rather just be alone with Truly.

  “You guys go ahead,” I told her. “We just ate.”

  Chase snapped his fingers. “How about a stroll through the park? We can inhale the stench of the stagnant reservoir water and slap away the mosquitos.”

  “Sounds romantic,” Truly said, and nudged Creed, trying to lead him away. “Have fun.”

  Creed glanced back at us when he was halfway down the street. He didn’t say goodbye.

  Chase watched the two of them walk away and then he turned to me, running his hand down my arm. “You’re cold.”

  The temperature had dropped sharply, as it often did at night in the desert. Chase walked briskly, leading me back to where he’d parked the Chevy. He rooted around in the cab for a minute then removed a messy old flannel shirt. He draped it carefully around my shoulders.

  “Fair warning; it hasn’t been washed this calendar year, but it’ll keep you warm.”

  “Thank you,” I said quietly, and took his arm again as we walked to the park.

  There were a few people out walking. As we got closer to the railing overlooking the water a small flock of birds flew overhead. Their high-pitched chirps echoed through the night.

  “Bats,” Chase said, pointing.

  “No way. Are you sure?”

  “Positive. You know there’s this cave up by the Biltmore where you can watch them by the thousands. They swarm and then scatter in the night to hunt, to mate, to do bat things.
A fitting backdrop a few weeks before Halloween.”

  He had circled his arm around me absently as he spoke. Then he turned and stared at my face. He stared for a long time.

  “Stop it,” I muttered, feeling disconcerted.

  He grinned. “No.”

  I crossed my arms and tipped my head down. A second later I felt his hand underneath my chin. His voice was gentle.

  “Why do you do that, Steph? You shrink back into yourself every time someone looks at you. How many times do I have to tell you how goddamn beautiful you are? No, don’t make a face at me. You know I’m not bullshitting, not about this.”

  “Chase,” I said, and wished he would reach for me, bring me closer, but he only sighed.

  “I wish we’d done this first,” he said with a crooked grin.

  A loud noise startled me and I looked up in time to see a pair of skateboarders careening past. I didn’t know what he meant. “What?”

  Chase shoved his hands in his pockets and watched the skateboarders disappear. “I wish I’d taken you out before I took you to bed.”

  “Oh,” I blushed. “Actually I think you tried. I think I told you the obscene equivalent of ‘no thanks’.”

  He mulled that over. “You’re right,” he said in an incredulous voice. “I will feel bad no longer. It is entirely your fault that we fucked before we ate a meal together.”

  “Cut it out.” Hesitantly I took his hand. “Chase, I’m sorry I told you to fuck off. I couldn’t stand the possibility of being a joke to you. I didn’t really want you to leave.”

  He took a step closer. “What did you want?”

  I squirmed. “I don’t know.”

  Chase didn’t like that answer. “Yes you do.” He grabbed me, holding my face in his hands and running his thumb briefly over my lips. It made me a little breathless, how quickly his mood could shift from mocking player to intense man. It confirmed what I was already starting to suspect; his sarcastic behavior was just a thin artificial layer.

  “Tell me,” he urged in a gruff voice and again I felt my heartbeat quickening. Being close to him would do this to me every time. Every damn time. There was no stopping it.

  “I wanted you to stay,” I whispered. “In Vegas. And this afternoon. I wanted more. More than a quick round of sex. I wanted…I wanted to feel your arms around me.” It came out halting, uncertain, and I was pissed at myself because I couldn’t say it right, because I shouldn’t have said it at all. It was foolish.