Mission: Without a Trace - Nicole Edwards Page 0,48
Certainly not in the middle of the damn night.
An unsettling feeling came over him, and for a second, he considered going back to his truck to retrieve his gun.
Instead, he opened the screen door, stepped inside.
“Brantley?”
Grumbling came from the direction of the kitchen, drawing him deeper into the house.
He found Brantley perched on the kitchen island, wearing only a pair of shorts and a frown, staring out the sliding glass doors, the night pitch-black beyond, lit up every now and again by a flash of lightning.
Their eyes met as Reese made his way around the island.
“What are you doin’ here? Goddamn Trey. Did my brother call you?”
“No. Ran into JJ at Moonshiners.”
“Did you now? Couldn’t talk her into goin’ home with you, so you thought you’d come over here for a pity fuck?”
He could hear the anger, knew Brantley was trying to piss him off. But beneath that, he could hear something else. Hurt.
And while he wanted to argue and fight, anything to keep Brantley talking, he held his tongue.
“I’m sorry,” Brantley said quickly. “That was uncalled for.”
“It was,” Reese agreed. “You’re more than welcome to take a swing at me. I definitely deserve it. But not JJ.”
Brantley’s head lifted and he was doing that stare-down-his-nose thing that signaled he was shoring himself up for a blow.
“I just wanted to check on you. She told me…” He exhaled slowly. “She told me you have nightmares triggered by storms.”
“Trey’s already stopped by, so I’m covered, thanks.” Those steel-blue eyes flashed with anger. “It’s not your duty to take care of me, Reese. In case you forgot, you gave up the right to give a damn.”
“You’re right,” he conceded, backing away because the urge to go to Brantley was too great. “I did.”
He hadn’t made it three steps when the thud of feet hitting the floor had him bracing for an attack.
“Why?” Brantley demanded, stomping in his direction. “Why the fuck do you pretend to give a shit, Reese?”
Spinning around, he found himself nose to nose with one very pissed-off Navy SEAL.
“I’m not pretendin’,” he declared, holding his ground.
“No? All this back-and-forth bullshit. You want to fuck but you don’t want anyone to know?”
Now his ire was rising. Although there was some truth to Brantley’s statement, it was much more complicated than that and they both knew it.
As they faced off, Reese could see Brantley’s muscles coiling tighter. He was gearing up for a fight and Reese didn’t blame him one bit.
“You wanna take a swing at me?” he taunted, stepping back. “Go for it. God knows I deserve it.”
For a second, he thought Brantley would take him up on the offer.
His words were clipped, tipped in fury but laced in pain.
“Understand what?”
“Why? Why the fuck did you string me along, Reese? I was so damn close… Fuck. I coulda fallen in love you, goddammit.”
Reese’s jaw snapped shut as he tried to hold back the words that threatened to come out. He failed at holding them back because that was what he did. He spoke the truth. Even when it would cause him pain.
“Well, lucky for you…”
“Lucky for me?” Brantley barked a mirthless laugh. “How the fuck does that make me lucky?”
Reese stepped forward, lowered his voice. “Because unlike you, I wasn’t close. I already fell.”
Chapter Ten
Venomous words were on the tip of his tongue, but the instant his brain processed Reese’s admission, he pulled up short, his breath coming to a halt in his lungs.
“What?”
“I’m not gonna repeat it,” Reese bit out.
“Yes, you are,” he demanded, stepping forward.
His chest heaved as he stood there, waiting. Desperately waiting for Reese to say it again.
“It doesn’t change anything, Brantley.” There was a hint of defeat in his tone. “Still doesn’t make me the man you deserve.”
“Tell me,” he insisted, moving closer. “Say. The. Words.”
Those beautiful brown eyes flashed with both defiance and what looked a hell of a lot like fear. “I can’t.”
“Say. It.”
“It doesn’t chan—”
Brantley reached for Reese, gripping the sides of his neck with both hands. “It changes every fuckin’ thing, Reese. Say. It.”
He watched as Reese swallowed, his Adam’s apple sliding down, then back up slowly. “I fuckin’ love you, all right?” he whispered.
If the sun were to rise in his chest, there wouldn’t be more warmth than there was now.
Brantley wanted to echo the sentiment, to tell Reese that he’d been lying earlier, that he wasn’t simply close, but he’d fallen in love already. For the first time in