Page 17 of Make the Play

“What kind of snacks?” Landry asks. Not that it matters. Landry Reynolds will eat anything you put in front of him.

“We’re craving Buffalo chicken dip, so we’re going to make that.” Corie licks her lips as if she can taste the dip. She has no idea how alluring she is or how that simple swipe of her tongue across those luscious lips of hers turns me on.

“And BLT bagel dip,” Sloane says, moaning in appreciation. “I swear that shit’s addicting.”

“Wings,” Landry adds. “Lots of wings.”

“We can do that,” Corie tells him before turning her gaze to me. “Knox?”

“That all sounds perfect.” I reach into my back pocket and pull out my wallet. “I’ll buy.” I grab a couple of hundreds and hold them out for her. Corie makes no move to take the money, but Sloane does. She steps forward and grabs the cash from my hands.

“Anything else?” Sloane asks us.

“Chips and salsa,” Landry tells her. “Damn, snacks were a good idea,” he says, rubbing his belly.

Corie smiles at her brother. It’s soft and endearing. “We’ll be back.”

“Be safe,” I tell them. They wave and walk out of the room.

“Let’s finish this. When they get back, I’m tearing that shit up,” Landry says, reaching for the remote.

“You know, it all has to be cooked, right?” I ask, laughing.

“Yeah, but I can steal bites as they do it.” He grins widely, hits play on the large projector screen, and we get back to work.

“Genius, baby sister. You are a genius,” Landry tells Corie.

“It was Sloane’s idea,” Corie tells him.

Landry stands and walks toward the recliner where Sloane is sitting. Bending, he gives her a one-armed hug, because his empty plate is in one hand, which she returns. “Best idea ever.” He stands and makes his way to the kitchen, I’m sure to refill his plate.

“I don’t know where he puts it.” Sloane laughs. “It’s as if he’s an endless pit.”

“He’s always been that way,” Corie tells her.

“We burn a lot of calories,” I say in his defense, but yeah, he eats a lot. I’m not really sure where he puts it either.

“You don’t eat that much.” Sloane nods to my plate. It’s also empty, but I’m too full to go back for more, no matter how good it was.

“I have self-control,” I say, grinning and pointing toward the kitchen. “Landry, not so much.”

“Landry is a brother to me, and I feel like I need to say that before I say this… how does he stay so ripped?” Sloane asks.

“Genetics. He’s always been that way. In high school, Mom used to say he was going to eat us out of house and home, remember?” Corie asks Sloane.

“I know, but damn, he’s so… defined, and not an inch of fat for all the calories that man eats.”

“Yeah, then there’s me, and if I look at a pastry, I can feel my thighs getting wider.”

“Stop.” Sloane rolls her eyes. “You’re perfect. Like you said, good genes.” She hits the button on the side of the power recliner to lower her legs and sit up. “I don’t care if my thighs widen. I need more of that bagel dip.” She walks toward the kitchen, leaving me alone with Corie.

“You can’t actually believe that,” I say, blurting out my thoughts from her earlier statement. I had to bite my tongue to avoid saying anything in front of Sloane.

Her reply is to shrug her delicate shoulders.

“Corie.” My tone has an edge to it. A warning. Her eyes find mine, and I’m unsure what I see in those beautiful green orbs. I can’t read her, but I can assume.

She’s so damn beautiful that sometimes I find it hard to breathe around her. She tilts her head to the side to study me. I don’t bother to hide my… annoyance? Anger? I’m not sure what I’m feeling. I know hearing her say that about herself, as if she’s not the sexiest woman who walks this earth, does something to me, and I need to make sure she understands every inch of her is perfect.

---