Page 24 of It Runs in the Family

“And what is this too-good job?”

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, a risky move considering I didn’t think they wasted much time wiping down tabletops here. “Nope. You have to tell me something about yourself first.”

“As of a few hours ago, I’m unemployed.” I picked up a fry. “So thank you for donating to my sustenance.”

“How’d you lose your job?”

I shook my head. I definitely wasn’t sharing that.

“I have two younger sisters,” he said, shifting so he had his elbows on the table now. “They live in Dallas. One’s a nurse, the other’s in graduate school. My parents live there too.”

Did he expect me to tell him about my family? I sure wasn’t sharing about my runaway mother and the father I’d never met. “I have about ten million cousins.”

He laughed. “Ten million?”

“It feels like it somedays. We pack my grandmother’s backyard for her Sunday family dinners. Attendance is mandatory.”

“And y’all actually go?”

“If we know what’s good for us, and I know what’s good for me when it comes to Granny.”

A sexy grin spread across his face. “So you’re a good girl.”

“I never said I was.”

“You’re a rule follower. You do what your grandmother tells you.”

“Let’s just say I’m a selective rule follower, and I find it in my best interest to obey my grandmother.”

“Interesting,” he said with a sly look.

“Not really, but if it gets you off, then go ahead and think so.”

He laughed. “You’re not what I expected.”

“That’s what you get for making judgments about people you don’t know.”

“I guess you’re right.” He took a drink of his beer, finishing it off. “You don’t come here often. I’ve been here the last three weekends and I haven’t seen you.”

“How would you know if I’d been here? There are over a hundred people here.”

He held his bottle in his hand, his gaze fixed on mine. “Trust me, Iris. If you were here, I would have noticed.”

To my irritation, a rush of heat washed through me. This guy was getting to me, and I was none too happy about it. I glanced down at the timer on my phone. One minute and thirty-seven seconds left. I needed to wrap this up and send him on his way.

“How many women have you picked up?” I asked coyly.

He coughed, then recovered. “You want to know how many women I’ve taken home?”

“Or gone to their homes, or screwed in the bathroom or parking lot, or whatever.” I lifted my brow. “How many?”

“Is that really a question you should be asking?” he asked with a nervous laugh.

I snorted. “That many, huh?”

“I don’t like to kiss and tell.”

“No one’s asking you to name names.” I shifted my gaze toward the middle of the room, then did a double take. My cousin Selena, who’d occupied so many of my thoughts over the last couple of days, was on the other side of the room. She was in a slinky red dress that looked more appropriate for a New York night club than a country bar, and she was headed for the exit.