“Why’re you here?” Brantley asked, pulling Trey from his thoughts.
Realizing he was standing in the doorway of Brantley’s office, he raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“You. Here. Why?”
Trey smiled, understanding why Reese had suggested Trey talk to his brother. “What’s got your panties in a twist? Somethin’ go wrong on your stakeout?”
“It’s almost Christmas. Shouldn’t you be at the mall gettin’ those last-minute gifts?”
“Shouldn’t you?” Trey countered.
“I plan to. Later.”
“Me, too.”
“Fuck you,” Brantley bit out with a smile.
“Fuck you, too.”
Then they were both quiet, staring at one another.
He knew Brantley had changed the subject for a reason, and while he didn’t have a problem giving any of his brothers or sisters shit, Trey knew when to hold off. Right now felt like one of those times.
Trey jerked his chin in the direction of the barn. “Figured I’d follow up on a couple of things,” he told his brother, leaning against the doorjamb. “You know, before everyone’s out of the office for the long weekend.”
Brantley was still leaning back in his chair. Every so often his gaze would shift to the window. Trey figured he was attempting to see Reese, but there was no way. Not from where he was sitting.
“You’re comin’ to Mom and Dad’s for Christmas breakfast, right?” he asked when Brantley didn’t say anything. “And gettin’ with Reese’s family for dinner?”
“That’s the plan,” Brantley muttered, and Trey could tell his mind was elsewhere.
He stood tall. “Well, then. I guess I’ll leave you to it.”
“Yep.”
He paused for a moment, watched his brother.
“You sure everything’s cool?”
“All good.”
Clearly something was bothering him, but Trey couldn’t bring himself to dig. At the moment, he didn’t have the energy to shoulder the weight of anyone else’s problems. Not with his own bearing down on him.
Trey made it back down the stairs and glanced at the front door, tempted to go out that way, hop in his truck, and head back to his house. He didn’t really have anything pressing that needed his attention. Plus the thought of seeing Magnus didn’t sit well with him, but he had no fucking clue why he’d even care. The guy might be a flirt, but he was harmless.
Okay, so he did know why he cared. Because he had sworn off men, dammit. Enacted a vow of celibacy. Abstaining. A born-again virgin. Just call him a monk.
No. Men.
And he was fucking lonely because of it. Dammit.
Trey snorted, then forced his feet toward the back door. No way was he going to run like a scared fucking rabbit. Damn sure not because of some … some … kid.
And that was exactly what Magnus was. At least compared to Trey. Thirty-six minus twenty-four equaled … hell, Trey was likely getting his first kiss by the time Magnus popped out of his mama. No fucking way would he even entertain the idea.
No. Fucking. Way.
But he wasn’t a coward, so he marched his ass right out the back door, onto the deck, down the steps, and made a beeline for the barn. Trey forced his gaze to remain on his destination, doing his damnedest not to listen for the slightest sound that might tell him where Magnus was.
He was almost home free when the blasted man appeared on the other side of the barn, walking Tesha on a leash. Magnus lifted his gaze as he turned the corner, and Trey stopped mid-stride.
Like every single one of their previous encounters, Magnus’s gaze raked over him slowly before stopping on his face.
It was the eyes. The hazel color was such a unique mix of brown and green and blue, it didn’t seem real. Add in the fact they contrasted perfectly with the dark brown hair, the long lashes… Definitely fuckable.
No, dammit. Not. Not fuckable.
Not anything.
Trey realized Magnus was still staring at him.
“What?” Trey asked, frowning.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“But you were thinkin’ somethin’.”
“Was I?” Magnus’s cocky smirk irritated the shit out of him.
“Where’s Reese?”
Magnus’s chin jerked in the direction of the house. “Went to grab his phone.”
Remembering he was not going to see this guy as a challenge, Trey nodded, relaxed his shoulders, and closed the distance between him and the electronic panel that opened the barn door.
“Don’t let me keep you,” Trey said absently, glancing back over his shoulder just in time to catch the man staring at his ass.
He could’ve sworn someone mentioned Magnus had a girlfriend.
Right. Uh-huh.
“You can keep me anytime you’d like,” Magnus muttered.
Before Trey could spin around and comment, the man was sauntering away. Trey was about to call him on it when he saw Reese walking toward them.
Grinding his teeth together, Trey forced himself to punch in the code to unlock the door.
After all, it gave him something to think about besides the fucking hard-on that damn man inspired.
*
Brantley stared at the space his brother had vacated, briefly wondering how long ago Trey had left. A minute? Ten? Considering how distracted he was, it could’ve been an hour that he’d sat staring into space, his brain twisting and turning the information he’d recently received.
Oddly enough, he wished he could’ve spent that time thinking about Reese’s almost engagement but he hadn’t. No, he’d been too busy processing the email he’d received from Governor Greenwood.
The email that informed him the task force would most likely be eliminated after the first of the year.
Eliminated.
Three months in, five cases closed, half a dozen more in the works, and they were going to be eliminated.
Fucking politics.
He’d read the email three times, remembered seeing something about budget cuts and fund allocation. Probably Greenwood’s way of overwhelming Brantley with information so he didn’t lock on to the fact that he’d created the team and eliminated it within a matter of months.
And he’d relayed all that information in an email.
A fucking email, not even a phone call.
Oh, but the good news was, the governor would take his time in picking up the equipment they were in possession of, but unfortunately, their access to government databases would be relinquished immediately.
Always a but.
So basically, it sounded like they wouldn’t be looking to fill empty positions within the task force after the first of the year after all. Rather they’d be looking for jobs elsewhere.
Brantley massaged the bridge of his nose, fully aware of the headache that was looming. It was going to be a bad one. He could feel it already.
Two hours later, Brantley was still at his desk; however, he was no longer pretending to work. He’d given that shit up a while ago but hadn’t found the energy to stand up.
“You comin’ down for dinner?”
He peered up from his desk chair to see Reese standing in the doorway, his chest bare and a pair of black sweats hanging low on his hips. When he wore things like that—so casual, so very … male—it made Brantley wonder how he managed to go a second without running his hands over every long, lean inch of him. Even now, when his thoughts were muddled and the pain behind his eyes was growing more intense by the second, he wanted to touch and taste, explore and ravish.