Hide & Seek - Nicole Edwards Page 0,36
away nothing.
Brantley paused to lean against the doorjamb when he saw Reese wearing only a pair of shorts and wielding a tape measure. The muscles in Reese’s back flexed and moved, stirring that all-too-familiar hunger within him. The man turned him on simply by breathing.
“What are you doin’ up here?”
“I had an idea.”
“Does it involve you strippin’ off those shorts? Because that’s somethin’ I could get behind.”
“Easy, tiger.” Reese turned back to him, grinned. “It involves some remodeling.”
“More remodelin’?”
“Yes.” Reese motioned to the windows. “I think we should add a deck off these rooms.”
“A deck? And why would we do that? We have a perfectly good one down below.”
“To be honest, I have no idea why. I just think it’s a good idea.”
“And when do you propose we’ll use it?” He motioned around the room. “We don’t even use the upstairs.”
“But we will.”
“For?”
“Offices.”
“What?”
“Hear me out,” Reese said, clearly detecting his confusion. “You want to hire on a truckload of people, and while the barn is big enough to house plenty, I figure maybe it’ll be nice if we had a couple of offices here.”
“And we can give up our desks to whoever needs them,” Brantley chimed in. “That’s not a bad idea. It’ll keep me from tryin’ to find a way to add more floor space to the barn.”
“There’s plenty over there. And with JJ in the loft, she’s the only one who really needs a permanent desk. Well, her and whoever she hires to help her out. Everyone else should be traveling a good majority of the time. The cases we’ve acquired are across Texas, and we both know the groundwork can’t be done from here.”
“Good point. But why the deck?”
Reese’s grin was sheepish. “Like I said, I don’t know. Just sounded good.”
“Well, if you want a deck, we’ll build a deck.”
That smile drifted away as Reese’s expression sobered. “I’m not tryin’ to redecorate your house, Brantley. I don’t—”
“Our house,” he said, pushing off the wall and moving toward Reese. “It’s not just mine anymore. If you want to redecorate or add on, go for it. Might require us to use some elbow grease to cover the cost.” Brantley hooked the towel around Reese’s neck, pulled him in close enough their noses nearly touched. “Plus, I like the idea of some privacy when we’re workin’ from here. Means I can take advantage of you whenever I want.”
“And vice versa,” Reese groaned as he shoved Brantley back.
He hit the wall with a thud but felt nothing but intoxicating pleasure when Reese’s mouth crushed down on his.
“Too bad you’re runnin’ off to breakfast,” Reese mumbled against his mouth. “Otherwise, I’d just bend you over right here.”
Brantley groaned, considered calling his brother and telling him he’d be late.
“What do you say we meet up for a construction meeting later,” he suggested instead. “Discuss what needs to be done up here to make it happen.”
“I’m game.” Reese kissed him once more, then ducked out of the towel and stepped back. “Just think about me while you’re gone.”
Oh, he would. Hell, Brantley spent ninety-eight percent of his day thinking about Reese. The other two percent he was thinking about what he was going to eat and wondering if they could fit in a quickie before or after.
Forty-five minutes later, after a quick shower and a kiss from Reese, Brantley was pulling into the diner. His brother’s truck was already parked and Trey nowhere in sight, which meant he was likely downing his first cup of coffee.
Brantley parked in one of only two empty spaces, then sauntered inside. Sure enough, Trey was in a booth chatting it up with a couple of guys at a table across the way. That was one thing about Trey. The man had never met a stranger.
Easing into the booth across from his brother, he waited until the conversation ended, then smiled in greeting. “Thanks for meetin’ me.”
“I figured since you were offerin’ to buy me breakfast, it wasn’t like I could turn it down.”
“How’re things with you?”
Trey leaned back, relaxed. “Can’t complain.”
“How’s Cyrus?”
That happy-go-lucky smirk slipped away as Trey glanced down at the table, reaching for the generic white mug.
That look could’ve meant any number of things, but Brantley suspected he knew. He’d known Cyrus long enough to understand the guy was very much like Brantley had been before Reese. Not willing to settle down and always keeping an eye out for the next big adventure. Whether it was a man or a job, Cyrus was always prepared to