“She’s in the wind,” Brantley said, keeping his tone level. “The FBI’s workin’ the case now.”
“They’re doin’ a shit job,” Travis said, his blue-gray eyes sparking with fire. “I want her found now.”
Brantley studied Travis’s expression, noticed the tension lines around his mouth and eyes. If he had to guess, Travis wasn’t getting much sleep these days.
“These things take time. You know that. They will find her, Trav.”
His lips pursed. “Not good enough.”
The anger rolling off the other man was palpable.
“Look,” Travis said, turning to face him fully. “I need help findin’ her. I was hopin’ you’d help.”
“You know I will,” he said quickly. “Of course I will, Travis.”
“Good.” Travis gave a curt nod. “Because I’d hate to have to convince JJ to come work for me.”
Brantley frowned, hearing a hint of a threat in his cousin’s voice. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. I’m not above usin’ money to get what I want, Brantley. You should know that about me by now.”
Before he could argue, Travis strolled around to the driver’s side of the SUV, climbed inside.
Brantley was still standing there as Travis drove down the long drive, heading back the way he’d come, when JJ came out to join him.
“Somethin’ wrong?” she asked, stopping at his side.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, glancing over at her. “You talk to Travis lately?”
Her dark eyebrows lowered. “No. Why would I?”
“Don’t know.”
“Brantley?”
Turning to face her more fully, he explained the conversation that had just taken place.
“Work for him?” She snorted. “Why in hell would I work for him? I mean, he’s a nice guy and I like him just fine, but I’m not all that into the kink he’s got goin’ on at that resort.”
“It’s your skills he wants,” Brantley told her.
JJ smiled, bringing her hand up and breathing on her fingernails before polishing them on her chest. “What can I say, B? I’m good like that.”
She was good like that. Brantley wouldn’t argue that point. But she wasn’t a hacker-for-hire.
“You’re worried about him?” JJ said softly, her humor disappearing.
“Yeah.” He was definitely worried.
The man who had just threatened him was not the Travis Brantley knew.
“Well, since you’re just standin’ around, holdin’ down the dirt, come help me.”
“With?”
“I brought a few things from home. For my desk.”
Shaking off the weird conversation with Travis, Brantley followed JJ over to her little hybrid SUV. She popped the hatch, motioned for the bag and the box.
“A few things, JJ? This looks like you’re movin’ in.”
Her laughter was enough to get his head back in the game.
“Quit complainin’, Walker. Just carry it.”
He did.
Ensuring she knew how put out he was the entire trek back to the barn.Chapter TwoLater that evening, Reese was standing at the stove when Brantley strolled into the kitchen, fresh out of the shower. Even over the aroma of marinara and garlic, he could smell the fresh, musky scent of the man, and like usual, it went right to his head. To say it was odd that he would ever think that way was an understatement. Reese had spent his entire thirty-one years finding perfume appealing over cologne. At least on his partners, anyway. Yet here he was, infatuated by the sexiest man in existence.
Stirring the sauce, he smiled to himself, wondering if he would ever get over this obscene need that made his blood run hotter. Rather than settle, it seemed to intensify day after day. Didn’t matter that they’d already taken their relationship to the next level.
Nine days ago, Brantley had asked him to move in with him. Eight days ago, they’d started moving his things. Seven days ago, he’d officially changed his address. On paper, at least. And now here they were, settling into a routine that was both relatively mundane and oddly exciting. Reese had never lived with a lover before. At times, he had wondered if he ever would.
“Did Autumn get moved into your apartment?” Brantley asked, grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet and moving to the refrigerator.
Reese cast a sideways glance, admired the man from the back, the charcoal gray T-shirt formed nicely to his muscular torso. “She did. The lease’ll transfer to her in December. She was thrilled. Said it’ll cut down on her travel time quite a bit.”
“How’s she likin’ Walker Demo?”
Knowing it was a sensitive subject, he turned his attention back to the sauce. “I didn’t ask.”
“You can, you know,” Brantley said, pausing as he was pouring tea into the second glass. “It doesn’t bother me.”
“I know.” And he did.
Although Reese had damn near fucked their relationship nine ways to Sunday when he panicked after Autumn Jameson, his replacement at Walker Demo, had caught on to the fact Reese and Brantley were exploring this thing between them, it seemed Brantley held no ill will toward the woman. Reese didn’t, either. She’d done nothing wrong by accepting his offer of drinks one night. Completely platonic, of course. The conversation had stayed on the topic of work mostly, but still. Reese had fucked up, more so by ignoring Brantley than asking a woman to have drinks.
