Brantley stared back at Reese. He was usually the one talking Reese off the ledge, so it felt a bit foreign for the roles to be reversed. However, he liked this aggressive side to the man. The take-charge, get-shit-done side.
“Okay,” Brantley agreed.
“Then let’s do this. Time’s a wastin’.”
He breathed deeply, exhaled his relief.
And just like that, they were moving in a new direction.
***When Reese and Brantley went outside, JJ carried her laptop up to the loft and plopped down on the leather sofa that had been added to the minimal space. There still wasn’t much of anything up here that would make it a viable break area, but it hadn’t really been a priority. In fact, she knew the stairs had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, a way for Brantley to deal with some of the feelings Reese had stirred up in him. Now that they were in, the area left much to be desired.
That didn’t necessarily explain why she preferred it so much. Well, okay, it was probably because there was a window. The only one in the entire building, at that. And after spending hours and hours in the barn, sometimes she just needed to see the sun. Or she was simply trying to put some distance between her and Baz. Her pride liked to think it was the former because the latter would mean she was a chickenshit. And JJ was no chickenshit.
She wasn’t. Really.
However, she knew Baz liked her, and as much as it pained her to admit it, she liked him, too.
Good thing was, they worked together, which made him off-limits. Of course, there were no rules regarding fraternization within the task force. If there was, Brantley and Reese would’ve been up shit creek from the get-go. No, this was more of a personal decision. JJ was no dummy when it came to relationships. Statistics showed they didn’t last, certainly not between co-workers. Not that she’d looked it up or anything; her data was based solely on personal experience. And what she’d seen in others.
Did she think it was possible for those relationships to survive? Sure. Just not one that involved her.
The outside door opened, so she listened carefully. She knew Brantley was on edge, though she wasn’t sure why. It was rare for him, the man whose patience seemed endless. But she had witnessed a change in him a few minutes ago. Possibly for the first time in all the time she’d known him, Brantley’s countenance had reflected doubt.
Reese’s resonating voice penetrated the otherwise silent space. He was talking to Baz, although she couldn’t quite make out the words. Being nosy as she was, JJ got to her feet, carried her laptop back downstairs.
She arched a surprised eyebrow, pretending she hadn’t known they’d returned. “You’re back.” No sense giving away all her secrets.
The three men continued their conversation while JJ grabbed her cup, headed to the kitchen to refill it with water. She let the sounds of their voices relax her, listened to the inflection. Brantley’s tone was smooth and even, not quite as deep as Reese’s. Baz’s voice held less of the Texas drawl than Brantley’s and Reese’s, but there was a raspy quality to it she was fond of. She had to admit, it was rather nice to work with three incredibly hot guys. It meant she always had something nice to look at.
And no, that wasn’t her objectifying them. She merely had to find a way to pass the time or to clear some of the rather unpleasant images from her mind. After all, she had seen some of those crime scene photos, heard the horror story about them finding Kate Walker, and she’d dug deep enough into some of their suspects to know that the world was a very wicked place. No better way to stay positive than to check out hot guys who just so happened to be ridiculously smart and kinda lethal.
Despite the fact Baz was the only blond in the building, he fit right in with the perfection of Brantley and Reese. Perfectly contoured face, nice square jaw, beguiling blue eyes. And that body… She suspected beneath the jeans and polos there was a nicely chiseled rest of him.
Not that she was thinking about Baz that way. She simply suspected because she had danced with him at Moonshiners. They’d been up close and personal. Nothing romantic.
Well, except for that kiss.
Okay, not going there.
“What’s goin’ on?” she asked when she returned to find Brantley standing at the whiteboard while Reese perched on the top of Brantley’s desk.
Baz was in his own chair, leaned back, hands behind his head as he watched Brantley write something in what could only be described as chicken scratch.
“Nope,” she said, depositing her cup on her desk. “No way. We can’t read that.”
“You wanna do it?” he asked, spinning around and holding the marker out.
