CLASH: Gentry Generations
Page 1
CLASH
Gentry Generations
Cora Brent
Contents
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CLASH Blurb
1. Taylor
2. Kellan
3. Taylor
4. Kellan
5. Taylor
6. Kellan
7. Taylor
8. Kellan
9. Taylor
10. Kellan
11. Taylor
12. Kellan
13. Taylor
14. Kellan
15. Taylor
16. Kellan
17. Taylor
18. Kellan
19. Taylor
20. Kellan
21. Taylor
22. Kellan
23. Taylor
24. Kellan
25. Taylor
26. Kellan
27. Taylor
28. Kellan
29. Taylor
30. Kellan
Epilogue
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Also By Cora Brent:
Gentry Boys Box Set Books 1-4
GENTRY BOYS (Books 1-4)
Gentry Boys Series
DRAW (Saylor and Cord)
RISK (Creed and Truly)
GAME (Chase and Stephanie)
FALL (Deck and Jenny)
HOLD
CROSS (A Novella)
WALK (Stone and Evie)
EDGE (Conway and Roslyn)
SNOW (A Christmas Story)
Gentry Generations
STRIKE (Cami and Dalton)
TURN (Cassie and Curtis)
KEEP (A Novella)
TEST (Derek and Paige)
The Ruins of Emblem
TRISTAN (Cadence and Tristan)
JEDSON (Ryan and Leah)
LANDON (TBR 2020)
Worked Up
FIRED
NAILED
Stand Alones
UNRULY
IN THIS LIFE
HICKEY
THE HERMIT
Please respect the work of this author. No part of this book may be reproduced or copied without permission. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Any similarity to events or situations is also coincidental.
The publisher and author acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks and locations mentioned in this book. Trademarks and locations are not sponsored or endorsed by trademark owners.
© 2019 by Cora Brent
All Rights Reserved
Cover Design: Sara Eirew
Cover Photo: Sara Eirew
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CLASH Blurb
TAYLOR
I’m that rich girl whose silver spoon was snatched right out of her pretty mouth.
I lost everything.
Now my everyday reality includes sleeping in my car and dining on whatever clearance bin food I can purchase with spare change.
But my issues don’t end there.
My nightmare family is hot on my heels and demanding something I don’t have.
They won’t give up until I crack.
And I’m just on the brink.
When I finally hit rock bottom I fall into the arms of an unlikely savior.
Kellan Gentry.
Brash and arrogant. Prince of the party scene. Notorious flirt.
The kind of guy who would break your heart with a shrug.
Falling for him makes no sense...
Right?
KELLAN
I used to be careless.I used to be all about chasing trouble and good times.
But watching my own family go through hell changed everything.
Now I just want to stay on a steady path and make them proud.
Then along comes Taylor Briggs.
Two years ago we hooked up at a wild party and she’s hated me ever since.
She’s gorgeous and sarcastic. She’s stubborn and yet vulnerable.
She’s got secrets. More than I can guess.
And somehow the ground shifts underneath me.
In the clash between love and logic, there’s no mystery as to which one will win.
I’ve been warned about the complications. I’ve been warned we’ll get ripped to shreds.
I dare anyone to try.
There’s nothing I won’t do to protect this girl.
No matter what it costs me.
Chapter One
Taylor
An entire squad of basil flakes from the buttered herb rolls had collected in the right corner of his mouth.
They moved when he spoke.
I stared at them and assumed they would be the most disgusting things I’d encounter this evening.
I was wrong.
“What?” I said.
He frowned.
Cleared his throat.
One of the basil flakes became displaced and fluttered somewhere unseen. “I was telling you about the new downtown high rise.”
My head bobbed. “Yeah, I understood that part.”
Another basil fragment fell. “I purchased a few units as an investment.”
“How nice for you.”
“Rooftop pool, within view of the ballpark.” He examined my expression and decided to add a few details. “Generous balconies. Five star restaurant on the ground floor.”
“I see.” But I didn’t want to see. I wanted desperately to un-see.
He smiled. “Right after dinner I’ll take you to select the unit you want.”
My empty stomach curdled. The basket of herb rolls glistened, beckoning from the center of the table. Last night I’d eaten a moistened brick of noodles and then this morning I vomited after consuming a stale candy bar from a shopping mall vending machine. My stomach was now demanding retribution for the neglect.
He waited, confident.
I wavered, desperate.
And then I collected the shreds of my dignity.
I would give him an out. I would pretend I was stupid, that I didn’t understand that a man I’d known all my life had just invited himself to be my sugar daddy.
“Thanks for the idea, Mr. Thanopoulos,” I said as I slid my fork between my fingers to contain my agitation. “But it’s out of the question. I could never afford a place like that.”
He didn’t take the out. Idiot.
He smiled, the corners of his eyes creasing along the age lines. I thought about how odd it was that I had no other memories of him ever smiling when our families had spent so much time together when I was a child. His wife was my older sister’s godmother. His daughter was in my high school circle of friends. Our families had taken vacations together. The Mexican Riviera. An Alaskan cruise. A tour of Rome. There he’d be, scowling with a phone cemented to his ear. Or visibly bored with his own family and searching for a reason to nudge my father off to the nearest bar. He’d never seemed to notice me one way or the other.
“You wouldn’t be paying for
anything, Taylor.” His eyes conducted a crisp sweep down my neck and assessed the shape of my breasts.
They’d come to me late, my breasts. I was fourteen before I actually needed any of the wispy lace bras expensively acquired, courtesy of a limitless credit card. But then they caught up with a vengeance and now stubbornly pressed against the navy blue slip dress that remained in my restricted wardrobe only because it was a department store knockoff and didn’t fetch much at the thrift store.
“I wouldn’t be paying for anything,” I echoed, aware of just how untrue that was.
The dinner invitation had come out of nowhere but with no hint that conditions would be offered. My parents had once been so close to him and his wife. I never expected Abby Thanopoulos to be present at dinner. She’d been vacationing in Costa Rica since their expensive divorce. But the messages from her ex husband betrayed a tone of concern. Perhaps he knew that Sierra had been poisoned by Petri Dish. But there had been no mention of my sister or her awful husband from Mr. Thanopoulos.
Burk. His name is Burk. Since he’s offering you a roof in exchange for endless fucks, you are entitled to think of him as Burk.
My fingers curled inward. My nails, impeccably manicured for years, had grown used to being gnawed to the quick. At least there was no danger they’d cut my palms.
“And why would you give me an apartment for nothing?”
I’d make him say it. And yet part of me clung to the vague fantasy that I was misreading the situation, that Burk Thanopolous was simply trying to do a good deed for the daughter of a dead friend.
A dent appeared between his eyebrows.
He’d been expecting gratitude. Inquiries were unwelcome.
“You seem to be between apartments at the moment, Taylor.”
A polite way of saying I was living out of my car. And how had he heard the news? Probably from his daughter, Diana. She was immersed in UCLA life and shunned me these days like last year’s trendy handbag but probably still found the time to gloat over local gossip.
“Things have been better,” I admitted.
A waiter carried a pair of plated steaks past our table. I drooled. My stomach howled.
“Taylor.” His clammy fingertip grazed the back of my hand. “Let me help you.”
His head was tilted at an affectionate angle and if he was another man I might have believed he meant well. But long ago I’d heard that Burk Thanopoulous had a habit of ruthlessness in his business dealings. And this was all business. He wasn’t a man accustomed to meaning well.
Anyway, he could have sought me out after my father’s death, after the authorities swarmed and extracted all the electronic devices from my childhood home and harassed me to no end. But he’d evaporated and become a stranger. He didn’t explain why he’d reached out after all this time but I understood now. He didn’t do favors. He made offers.
My hand crawled away from his. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would you help me?” I leaned forward. “You want something from me in return, right? Tell me what you want.”
Some color crept into his olive cheeks. The blunt request had caught him off guard and he lapsed into rare stumbling.
“Uh, I spend a lot of time on the property. And you’re a beautiful young woman.” His dry lips stretched into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I enjoy your company.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. So you’ll give me an apartment rent free and I’ll just hang out with you now and then? Just like this?”
His gaze skated around the restaurant. “This is nice,” he said vaguely.
My stomach rumbled again. “What else would be nice?”
He looked at my lips, my neck, the visible inch of the cleft between my breasts. “I can think of a few other things that would also be nice.”
“Other things,” I echoed. “What kind of things? Like naked things?”
My voice was too loud, squeaking on the second syllable of naked.
Na-KED?
Neighboring tables heard and disapproved. This is Scottsdale, the arched eyebrows warned. Where we don’t discuss naked things in public. The three hundred dollar wine bottles might get frightened.
Burk Thanopolous wasn’t sure whether I was trying to be amusing or obnoxious.
I wasn’t sure either.
The waiter arrived. He was dressed in a very proper costume of a blinding white shirt and black pants. The cruel overlord of restaurant dress codes had even accessorized him with a hideous brick red bowtie. He filled my water glass with a flourish and added some wine to Burk’s glass. It was an expensive bottle of cabernet and I’d declined only because alcohol and an empty stomach were not a good combination.
“Might I answer any questions about the menu?” he asked in an affected not-quite-British clip but looked only at Burk, as if he were the natural king of the room.
Burk waved him away, clearly annoyed over the timing of the interruption.
The waiter murmured, “Of course. Take your time.” And now he sounded like he was auditioning as a Downton Abbey extra.
“Taylor,” said Burk. “It pains me to think about all the challenges you’ve faced.”
Dead parents. Disgraced family. Vengeful sister. Psycho brother-in-law. Lost friendships. My only potential ally was a weak older brother and personal pressures had already trampled his judgment. I was now as wary of him as I was of the rest of them. Tears threatened my eyes and I wasn’t a crier. I certainly wasn’t going to cry now. If I cried, I might break down and accept the unthinkable.
Flattening my palms on the table, I rose and stared down at the man who I’d never really liked but at least respected.
“Challenges,” I said. “Yes, I guess you could say I have weathered a few challenges.”
He shifted in his chair. “But I understand the authorities are no longer troubling you.”
“No. They are not.” After trailing me for months and months and supplying the occasional threatening phone call to remind me of their presence, they had finally conceded that I would never lead them to my father’s hidden money.
Correction: my father’s hidden stolen money.
I wondered what they thought they’d achieve by shadowing me all over town. In any case, they must have given up on the idea.
My siblings were another story.
“That’s good to hear,” said Mr. Thanopolous, although I figured he must have already known that the authorities had stopped suspecting me a while ago. He was a creep but not a stupid creep. He wouldn’t take chances on a girl facing criminal charges no matter how awesome her tits were. “You deserve a break. These past few years have been hard for you.”
“And I suppose you assumed I was just desperate enough to be your whore.” I didn’t bother to whisper. It was over the top, a film line, overly dramatic, but it had the intended effect.
Burk Thanopolous narrowed his eyes and shifted again. He was embarrassed and embarrassing a man like that might have consequences if I had anything left to risk. All I had was my self-respect. And he wasn’t getting his greasy hands on that.
And yet for a split second I considered the possibility.
I imagined him dropping his costly tailored trousers. I imagined cooperating with his request to be efficiently entertained. People have probably done worse in exchange for a slice of security. No more sleeping in my car, showering in the university gym, jumping on every available shift my boss offered at Closet Exchange or gobbling ninety nine cent fast food tacos.
A month ago my latest roommate in my crappiest apartment yet had booted me with no warning and ever since then I’d been coasting on fumes while trying to puzzle my life together and dodge crazy relations.
I needed a break.
I needed to breathe.
A few months should be enough to scrape together enough cash for a security deposit for a cheap place of my own. Maybe I could tolerate a few months of Burk Thanopolous’s hairy body and overpowering cologne and smirking triumph and may
be just maybe the situation might be tolerable if he would only brush those remaining basil flakes from the corner of his mouth and…
NOOOOO!
I looked at him squarely. “You were my father’s friend. You’ve known me since I was born.”
He flinched. Perhaps a scrap of conscience remained. “Correct. And now I’m offering you help in the only way I know how.”
I pushed away from the table, the chair issuing a high-pitched scrape that turned some nearby heads. “What you’re offering isn’t help. It’s something else.”
“Taylor,” he said in the authoritative don’t-argue-with-me-young-lady kind of voice that was supposed to put me in my place. It didn’t. I had no obligation to listen.
“You have a nice night, Mr. Thanopolous,” I said with as much mature grace as I could scrounge on short notice.
As I stepped away from the table I half wished I’d tossed my water glass in his face and yelled a string of obscenities.
More than that I wished I’d grabbed the rest of those dinner rolls. I had a feeling I’d be dreaming about them.
He didn’t chase after me, a small blessing because my energy level suddenly deteriorated. I climbed into my car and pressed my forehead against the steering wheel.