For long seconds, he was lost in the fantasy, almost able to imagine Reese’s mouth was still on him, so hot, so—
Up and at ’em.
Aw, fuck. The fantasy was obliterated by the sound of Maude’s voice in his head. Always interrupting.
“For fuck’s sake,” he growled, releasing his cock as the damn thing deflated.
Although there was some discomfort from the lack of satisfaction, Brantley found he could keep the soft-on going as long as he thought about Maude, so he finished with the shower, dressed, and made a quick call to the pilot to confirm their flight back to Texas. As far as he was concerned, they’d wasted enough time here in Mississippi hoping Juliet Prince might emerge. The theory being the woman would come out of hiding to see her daughter at some point during the holidays, so they were keeping a close eye on things now.
Clearly she wasn’t ready to poke her head out of the sand just yet. But Brantley had made a promise to his cousin Travis, and he fully intended to follow through until they found the vile woman who’d kidnapped Travis’s daughter a few months back. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen right now. The woman was underground—rightfully so, since she was wanted by the FBI—and if he had to guess, she would remain in hiding for some time. At least if she was smart, anyway.
As for him and Reese, it was time to get back. They had holidays to celebrate, then it was back to the grindstone. Or it would be, right after he had breakfast with Maude and her mother, whose name appeared to be simply Mother.
When Brantley made his way downstairs a short time later, he found everyone had vacated the parlor in lieu of the fancy formal dining room with its heavy gold drapes and gilded-frame photos of people Brantley assumed were relatives. Now that he thought about it, it was creepy to have all those eyes tracking him.
And to think, these people had meals in there often.
He could hear the soft murmur of voices and the clang of silverware and wondered if he’d get a slap on the wrist from Maude for being late.
Running a hand down his shirt, he pulled himself together and resigned himself to joining them.
The chatter ceased almost immediately, all eyes shifting to him as he stepped down into the room.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Maude greeted cheerfully, peering up at him with a glint in her eye before patting the chair to her right. “Please, join us.”
If only he had another option.
It was slightly awkward that the chair she’d allocated for him was at the head of the table. Okay, a little more than slightly, but he solved that problem by taking the seat directly across from her, the one beside Reese.
“Mornin’.” He acknowledged each person with a smile and a nod, pulling out the chair and easing into it.
He glanced over at Reese, waiting for him to look his way. He didn’t.
Maxine spoke up from her spot beside Maude. “Reese tells us the two of you will be leaving today.”
“Yes, ma’am.” And not a minute too soon.
“Well, that’s a shame. We were hoping to spend more time with you both.”
Brantley liked the way Maxine spoke, her voice soft, her words dripping with southern sweetness, so prim and proper. A contradiction to Maude’s loud and boisterous personality. But like they said, opposites did attract. Evidently that went for lifelong friendships as well.
“I assume you’ve got time for breakfast,” Maude implored, her gaze pinned on him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said politely, then accepted coffee when the housekeeper offered. “We don’t need to leave for a couple of hours.”
“Vacations are never long enough.” Maxine winked at him as she reached for her coffee, which he suspected was spiked with her favored Irish whiskey.
“No, ma’am. They’re not,” he agreed, letting them continue to believe they were here on vacation, mistaking Maude’s house for the Airbnb they had thought they were getting.
Initially, Brantley hadn’t been sure how he was going to insert himself into the neighborhood in order to stake out the Prince residence. He’d figured they would get comfortable in their rented SUV but learned that wasn’t an option because the gated community didn’t allow parking on the street and had twenty-four-seven security guarding the place.
At that point, they’d had to get creative. Hence the reason they’d ended up here.
“Well, that’s a shame. I was enjoying your company.” Maude fluttered her lashes then shifted her gaze to the woman pouring coffee into Brantley’s cup. “Anna, have a seat. Stop fawning over these boys.”
“I don’t think I’m the one fawning,” Anna muttered under her breath, offering a forced smile over Brantley’s head.
“You know you’re welcome to join us,” Maxine suggested, evidently chiming in to get Anna on board.
“Not on your life,” she said with a dramatic sigh, followed by an eye roll as she backed out of the room.
According to Maude, Anna had been with her and Mother for going on thirty years now, and the ornery woman with the hair-trigger temper—Mother’s description—was more family than staff. She’d made it sound like they were close, but he wasn’t so sure Anna felt the same. Then again, putting up with someone for thirty years did require some serious commitment.
“You’re not eatin’?” Brantley asked Maxine before picking up his fork.
“Not this morning, no.” She took a sip of her spiked coffee, smiled sweetly. “I have an appointment.”
Mother snorted, a sound that made Brantley chuckle. He’d learned that Mother thought Maxine to be somewhat of a hussy. Her exact words, actually. Which was an interesting twist considering Mother’s own daughter was more than willing to talk about her midnight trysts. Yes, that was how Maude referred to her overnight guests, and in the short time they’d been there, Brantley had found himself on the receiving end of more than one of her many sordid stories. Not by choice, mind you.
“So, tell me,” Maude prompted. “How long have the two of you been working together?”
“I wanna know how long they’ve been sleeping together,” Mother blurted, her voice that of a two-pack-a-day smoker, although she swore she’d never smoked a cigarette in her life.
Maxine laughed.
Reese choked, then attempted to cover it with a cough. Based on how red his face was and how much he was clearing his throat, his toast had gone down the wrong way.
“Mother,” Maude chastised, shooing her with a flail of her linen napkin. “I told you. They only work together.”
“Like hell,” Mother snipped, her blue eyes peering into Brantley as though she was searching his soul.
He offered her a wink, which earned him a thin, wrinkled grin in return. He liked the old lady. She had spunk. He figured she had been a spitfire when she was younger.
“The task force we manage is relatively new,” Brantley informed Maude, setting down his fork and picking up his coffee. “We’ve only been workin’ together for a few months.”
“And you were both in the military prior to this?”
“Yes, ma’am. Reese was air force, I was navy.”
“Don’t ask, don’t tell,” Mother said under her breath, grinning at her plate.