Page 27 of Make Her Mine
It was nine-thirty; I made it out of the house without anyone seeing me as everyone had gone to sleep already. I went to the garage. The keys to all the cars and trucks hung in a lockbox on the wall.
Scanning the many automobiles, I took the keys to the yellow Corvette. If I was going for it, go all the way! If Brandon didn’t notice me, someone would for certain.
Chapter Thirteen
Brandon
With the third Tequila shooter down, I sat back in the chair and let out a holler that made me feel lighter. Dark, dank, and smelling of booze, the place matched my soul at the time.
“You want me to get another round, Brandon?” Dyllan asked as he eyed the attractive barmaid.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” I laughed, picking up my mug of beer. “I have this for now, you know?”
“Yeah, but having another shooter in front of you, in case you start on another tangent about Ella and how she’s such a pain in the ass, might be helpful.” He got up, walking to the bar without me even saying anything to him.
I looked at Clayton. “Dyllan has been here almost every night.”
He jerked his head in the direction of the bar. “Looks like he’s got the hots for that bartender, Bobbi Jo. Her mom works at the feed store, and Dyllan bent her ear but good, asking about her daughter. That’s the genuine motive behind us going to the feed store today. Bobbi Jo told Dyllan her mom works there. What she hadn’t told him, and her momma did, was her dad is the sheriff here.”
I looked at the blonde, petite, pretty female, and then the door opened, and a woman who looked exactly like her walked in.
“Whoa, would ya look at that?”
Clayton whistled. “Dyllan told me she had a twin sister. But from what he said, Betty Sue had nothing on Bobbi Jo. They look identical to me.”
“Me, too.” I smiled at him. “Go say hello. Introduce yourself.”
“Why don’tyoudo that?” he asked, then took a sip of his beer. “Oh, yeah. I forgot. You’re all starry-eyed over Ella.”
Kicking him under the table, I saw the door open again, and this time Clayton’s eyes bulged out of his head. “What?” I asked.
Clayton’s eyes were glued onto the leggy redhead. “Doesn’t she look a lot like Tiffany McKee from back home, Brandon?”
“The girl you dated in high school?” That was a long time ago.
“Yep.” He couldn’t pull his eyes off her. “It’s been seven years since I’ve seen her, but I could swear that’s her.”
The woman scanned the room, then her eyes landed on Clayton, and a smile broke out over her red lips. She came right up to our table. “Clayton Gentry, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Clayton got up and took her into his arms. “It sure has, Tiff.” They moved off to another table, leaving me alone with my beer.
Shortly afterward, a blonde sat down in the chair Clayton left empty. With my brothers entertained, I figured I might as well enjoy—or try to, anyway—the young woman’s company.
“Hi, I’m Felicity.”
“Brandon.” She had nothing to drink, so I waved the waitress over. “Can you fix the lady up, please?”
Felicity smiled. “Thanks. I’ll have a gin and juice.”
“Another beer for me.” I put the half-empty mug down to give my attention to the lass who had enough guts to sit at my table. “So, Felicity, what do you?”
“Work for the local newspaper, the Carthage Chronicle. And you are Brandon Gentry.” She took her cell out and pushed it toward me. “If I could get your number, that would be great.”
“I’m not sure I like talking to you yet. How about we chat for a while first?” I picked up the beer and took another sip.
Dragging her cell back across the table, she frowned. “Okay. It’s just that your story is worth telling. And I’d like to be the one to tell it.”
“I’m not interested in becoming Carthage’s newest celebrity, Felicity. But thanks anyway.” I took another drink of the beer as I watched Dyllan flirting with the barmaid. Her sister looked on with interest, too. Being that I was sitting with the town reporter, I asked, “What do you know about the twins up there?”
