the image of Reese sitting with that woman out of his mind. They’d looked so damn cozy. Too fucking cozy.
Was he honestly surprised that Reese had gone out with a woman?
Eh. Yes and no.
Sure, he’d suspected Reese was still on the fence as to whether he was comfortable with Brantley, but he’d gotten used to Reese’s blatant honesty. He’d thought for sure when the day came Reese realized he didn’t want this, he would’ve at least had the decency to say so to his face.
He was a fucking idiot. That was all there was to it.
What the hell made him think he could turn a straight man gay, he didn’t know. That wasn’t the way it worked. Everyone knew it, including him, but somewhere over the course of the past couple of months, he’d gotten his hopes up. What pissed him off was that Reese had led him to believe there was something more between them. Giving him that all in bullshit. Their definitions of what that meant clearly didn’t align.
Better to find out now, he figured. Before he went and did something incredibly stupid, like fall for the guy.
Air was racing in and out of his lungs as he worked his body harder, pushed his legs to go faster.
Brantley didn’t have time for this shit anyway. He had a job to do. One that had meaning, that would require a fuck of a lot of time. He had none left to spare for Reese and his waffling ideas of what he wanted. The guy could date all the women he could wrap his big fucking arms around. Brantley didn’t give two fucks about it.
Keep tellin’ yourself that.
Stopping to drag air into his lungs, Brantley planted his hands on his thighs, bent at the waist. He refused to think the tightness in his chest was from anything other than exertion. He hadn’t developed feelings for Reese. Not in the short time he’d known him. It was sex. Not even phenomenal sex. Would’ve been, sure, if Reese would’ve fully opened up to the idea. However, the man continued to hold back, would continue to hold back because, despite what he said, he wasn’t committed to whatever this was.
Fuck it.
With hands on his hips, Brantley started back toward his house. He decided to walk, needed a few extra minutes to clear his mind. He would grab a protein bar and a shower. Hopefully the combination would ward off the headache he could feel coming on. Then he would sleep, and tomorrow, he would get up and do it all again.
***
Just as the case had been for the past couple of years, JJ was hesitant to meet Dante for a date. Unfortunately, she’d put him off long enough and it had come time to put up or shut up. Stringing this along wasn’t doing any good for either of them, which meant she now had to make a choice. Officially date him or don’t. The man was becoming persistent, asking that they take things to the next level. And while she was skeptical about his motives, she wasn’t sure what was holding her back.
So, here she was, walking into the diner on her way to have dinner with Dante. It still surprised her that he’d offered to meet her in Coyote Ridge. Being that Dante had moved out of their small town a long time ago and often looked on it with disdain, the kind that curled the lip, it was a bit disconcerting that this was where he wanted to meet.
He’d said seven, but it was fifteen minutes shy of that and he was already here. She knew that because his car was in the parking lot. JJ offered the waitress a smile and motioned toward the back before heading that way.
The instant she saw him, she found herself smiling.
One thing that never changed about Dante Greenwood was his good looks. In fact, she would say he’d gotten better-looking over the years. Although a bit more on the preppy side than he had been growing up, he still managed to pull it off. With the teal-blue polo shirt and the dark slacks, he looked like he should be sitting behind a desk, not having dinner in a backwoods diner. Because he’d tooted his own horn a number of times, she knew the watch on his wrist was a Rolex, the shoes on his feet were Ferragamos, as was the belt he wore, and the price tag on his entire closet was likely