Mission: Without a Trace - Nicole Edwards Page 0,47
trying to poke and prod at his psyche.
“There’s no need to rip me a new one,” he informed her. “I’m good at doin’ that myself.”
“I also heard you’re good at speakin’ your mind. Did you happen to tell Brantley that you were in love with him?”
“I’m not—” Reese sighed, turning away from her. “JJ, while I appreciate your good intentions, I don’t—”
“Wanna talk about this. I know,” she said snarkily. “You said as much. But I do. You’re my friend, Reese. Say whatever you want, but we’ve become friends. And Brantley’s my best friend. I care about both of you. Damn sure don’t want to sit back and watch the two of you fuck up somethin’ that could be good.”
“He deserves better,” Reese said, some of the heat leaving his words.
“I disagree.”
She said it so easily, he couldn’t help looking her way again.
“What? I do. I think you and Brantley are meant for each other. And trust me when I tell you, I don’t think of myself as any sort of relationship expert. But I’ve seen you together.”
“I’ve never been with a man before him,” he admitted.
“So? And maybe you’ll never be with a man again. It’s not about his gender, Reese. Or yours, for that matter. The two of you found somethin’ together. Yeah, I’m sure it’s weird for you. Unexplored terrain. Doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
“I didn’t say it was wrong,” he said defensively.
“No. But you’re thinkin’ it.”
“I am not. I’m think—”
“He has nightmares,” she stated, effectively cutting him off.
“What?”
“Nightmares. Flashbacks.” She gestured toward the ceiling as thunder rolled above them. “Storms trigger them.”
Reese hated that he wanted to race to his truck and speed over to Brantley’s just to check on him, make sure he was all right. It pained him to know that it was no longer his place to do so.
“I’ve never seen him like this with anyone,” JJ said, her voice taking on a sympathetic tone. “He was happy for the first time. Without you, he’s miserable.”
“I can’t give him what he needs.”
“Actually, you already did. But then you went and jerked it out from under him.”
Frowning, he peered over. “What?”
“You, Reese. You’re what he needs. I’m not even sure how you don’t see it. That man … God love him.” JJ smiled. “Brantley’s an intense man on a good day. With you … he’s someone else entirely. Too bad you didn’t feel the same.”
He knew what she was doing. JJ and her mind games. He’d seen her perform them before. And as much as he wanted to ignore her, he found himself drawn into the conversation, desperate to argue his point.
“Trust me, I felt the same.” Probably more.
“Then I suggest you get your happy ass on up and go over there. Check on him, Reese. Someone needs to.”
“Why’s that someone need to be me?”
“Because if I know Brantley, and trust me when I say that I do, you’re the only person he’d be okay with seein’ him like that.”
The way she said it had his worry intensifying. He wasn’t sure what it was about Brantley that drew out the nurturing side of him, but Reese couldn’t deny his desire to keep the man safe, to take care of him. He’d learned of that need after that first headache he’d witnessed.
Mack returned with another beer, but before Reese could reach for it, JJ got her hand around it, dragging it away.
“I’ll take this. You go check on Brantley.” She flashed him a bright smile. “I’ll even cover your tab.”
“Figures,” he grunted. “I only had one.”
“I know.” She grinned widely. “Mack told me.”
He told himself the only reason he was going was because JJ wouldn’t stop harping on him until he did.
Twenty minutes later, Reese was pulling in behind Brantley’s truck. For some stupid fucking reason, he was relieved to see that no one was there. Especially not Cyrus. He wasn’t sure why he’d thought Brantley would rebound right back to that man, but it had crossed his mind. Numerous times.
Because he’d made the trek, he decided to see it through. Once he confirmed that Brantley was okay, he would be on his way.
He counted down before making his exit from his truck. Hauling ass to the porch, he still ended up drenched from the deluge. He shook off the excess water, then turned to the door to find it was open, the screen the only separation between him and the interior. While Brantley rarely locked his doors, he wasn’t the type to leave them open.