Mission: Without a Trace - Nicole Edwards Page 0,20

his life, it would all make sense.

“I’m lookin’ forward to it,” Brantley said, his eyes blazing with heat.

“Me, too.”

By the time six o’clock rolled around, Reese was hungry.

After they’d eaten lunch, Brantley had driven them back to Coyote Ridge. They had met up with JJ in the barn, walked through what little they’d learned, and begun jotting down the millions of questions their conversations were producing. They were no closer to finding Lauren Tyler, but it did feel as though they were making inroads.

After deciding Brantley and Reese would reach out to Corinne Greenwood tomorrow and see if they could pick her brain, JJ had slipped out for a date with Dante, something she hadn’t told Brantley but rather disclosed to Reese. For whatever reason, Brantley had a beef with Dante, even though, according to JJ, Brantley and Dante had talked over dinner one night about the past. She’d been under the impression they had cleared the air between them. Reese wasn’t so sure.

Nor was he interested in discussing it with Brantley right now.

“What’s on your mind?” Brantley asked from where he was sitting on the couch in the barn. He had his hands folded in his lap, head tilted back, as though the position might help bring him clarity on the case.

“Just thinkin’ about what I’m gonna have for dinner.”

Brantley’s head tipped forward. The cocky grin that formed on his mouth said he could think of a few things. Brantley patted the cushion, so Reese made his way over, dropped down beside him.

When Brantley reached for his hand, Reese didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away, just watched the way their fingers twined, linking together comfortably. Reese was aware of the warmth of Brantley’s skin, the roughness. Without thinking, he pulled Brantley’s hand into his lap as he rubbed his thumb over the back of Brantley’s hand. The next thing he knew, he’d untangled their fingers and was using both of his hands to explore Brantley’s fingers, his palm.

“I like when you touch me,” Reese muttered as he continued to hold Brantley’s hand between his. “I like the feel of your skin on mine.”

He wasn’t sure if he spoke because he wanted Brantley to know what he was thinking or because he needed to hear himself say it aloud. To admit what he wanted, accepting it as he went along.

“But more than that,” he whispered, “I like touchin’ you, too.”

Brantley remained silent beside him. Every now and then, Brantley’s thumb would move, rubbing against Reese’s wrist.

“That first time I touched you,” he continued, “on the way to Mississippi, the plane… I’ll never forget that moment. I was terrified, but not because of what we were doin’. Because of what I wanted to do. I’ve never thought of two men bein’ together as taboo or wrong. My brother’s gay and he’s had plenty of boyfriends in his lifetime. For him, it’s normal. For you, too. But for me, it’s … different. I’ve never been turned on by a man before.”

Reese glanced over, saw Brantley was watching him intently, listening.

“Then you came along and everything I thought I knew about myself went right out the window.”

He brought Brantley’s hand to his lips, pressed a kiss to his knuckles, then placed Brantley’s palm against his cheek.

“When you touch me … it feels better than anything I’ve ever known before. But I can’t say it feels natural. Just … better.” He looked at Brantley again. “I’m sorry about last night. Truly sorry. I just…”

“You don’t have to explain it,” Brantley said, his voice deeper than usual.

“I do. I need you to understand.”

Bringing Brantley’s hand back to his lap, he turned it so his palm was up, began massaging it with his thumbs.

“From the first night I saw you at IHOP, I was fascinated. Not sure why, but I was. Then I saw you with JJ at the gun range. It was the same. For those couple of minutes we talked, I was more interested in hearing your voice than talking to the beautiful woman with you. I knew something was … off. Inside me. And when I saw you at the gun range alone the next time, I thought it was fate.” He smiled shyly. “Sounds stupid, I know.”

The hand in his lap squeezed his fingers gently. “It doesn’t.”

“I didn’t want to go separate ways that night. After dinner. I wanted to talk to you, look at you. I tried to tell myself it was because you’re an interesting man, that it was normal for