Deadly Coincidence (Brantley Walker: Off the Books Book 4)

by Nicole Edwards

  “Here, take mine,” Cyrus offered, standing. “I’ve gotta make the rounds.”

  Dragging his attention away from the woman whose flirty smile had turned coy, Baz nodded, said, “Thanks, man.”

  When he took a seat, Baz noticed Brantley glancing at his phone.

  Reese obviously noticed, too, because he leaned in, resting his forearms on the table, staring over at the man. “You’ve been watchin’ your phone for half an hour now. There a problem?”

  Baz watched the crease form in Brantley’s forehead as he stared at the screen. “JJ was supposed to text me when she left HQ.”

  “That’s my fault,” Baz told him. “I waited for her. We stopped at the diner for coffee.”

  There was a hint of relief on the man’s face mixed with an inkling of confusion. “And yet you’re now here.”

  One of the waitresses—a pretty redhead named Lydia—hurried by, tapping him on the shoulder as she did. “Usual?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She shot him a quick, playful wink. “Comin’ right up.”

  There was something to be said about frequenting a bar in a small town, something he’d never done until he came to work for the task force. He’d always been a big-city guy. Nightclubs, one right after the other, keeping him entertained for hours on end.

  “Didn’t go well with JJ?” Brantley prompted when Baz turned back to them.

  Hell, he’d thought it was going in the right direction, right up until… “Dante called,” he announced, “interrupted our conversation.”

  He saw the shift in Brantley as the man sat taller, eyes going hard. “What did he want?”

  To profess his undying love? To convince her they belonged together forever and ever? To see if she’d feed his fish while he was out of town? Or walk his dog? It could’ve been any number of things, but Baz was already assuming the worst.

  However, he wasn’t going to admit that aloud. “She didn’t say, just hightailed it outta there. Said she had to go meet him.”

  “Where?”

  Baz shrugged. He hadn’t gotten the details, and he wasn’t sure he would’ve wanted them had he thought to ask.

  “What the fuck does Dante want?” Brantley grumbled.

  Since it sounded rhetorical, Baz didn’t bother to answer.

  “Son of a bitch,” Brantley muttered.

  “Are you texting her?” Reese asked when Brantley began keying something into his phone.

  “Yeah. She told me she’d text me when she got home, too. She owes me that much.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” Reese stated. “She’s a big girl. Knowin’ her, she’s already hip deep in an argument. That seems to be how the two of them communicate.”

  Baz knew very little about JJ’s relationship with Dante, past or present.

  “She hasn’t talked to him in a couple of months,” Reese tacked on. “Dante, I mean. I know that much.”

  Baz nodded, glanced around for the waitress. It really wasn’t his business. He had no claim on JJ. She’d made it very clear that wasn’t what she wanted from him, and despite how much he loved her—and he did, there was no doubt—Baz had no desire to beat his head against a brick wall over and over again.

  Thankfully the waitress swung by, quickly passing him his beer.

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit,” she said in a seductive whisper, her hand gently curling over his shoulder.

  Baz glanced at her hand, up to her face, saw the invitation there.

  Tilting the beer to his lips, he watched her sashay away, admired the way those jeans hugged her cute little ass.

  His gaze snagged on the blonde at the next table. She was watching him, her lashes fluttering, another shy smile on her mouth. He tried to imagine what she’d look like with her perfectly coifed hair mussed from rolling around beneath him.

  The sad part was, he couldn’t picture it no matter how much he wanted to.

  And yes, he fucking wanted to. More than he cared to admit. Baz was not the sort of man who wanted to be slogging after some woman like a lovesick puppy, and that seemed to be all he’d done since the day he met JJ. Where had it gotten him, huh? Here on New Year’s. Alone while JJ was off with Dante doing God only knows what.

  When Baz turned back, he swore he saw sympathy on Brantley’s face. It bothered him, but he managed to keep his mouth shut.

  “Let’s make a toast,” Reese prompted, lifting his beer. “To starting fresh in the new year.”

  Baz considered it, then lifted his beer. “To starting fresh,” he echoed.

  And as he clinked his bottle against Reese’s and Brantley’s, Baz tried to tell himself it was a good plan. Start fresh in the new year.

  He glanced at the blonde once more.

  Perhaps it was time for a change.

  *

  As the minutes ticked by, Brantley remained seated at the table with Reese. He watched Cyrus flirt with men, both gay and straight, getting shot down at every turn. Knowing Cyrus, the man would still manage to go home with someone before the night was through.

  Brantley observed Baz pretending not to make eyes with the little blonde at the table next to theirs, saw the redheaded waitress keeping her eye on Baz as though she was calling dibs. It both surprised him and didn’t that Baz would consider someone other than JJ. There was no way Baz could deny how he felt about her. On the other hand, JJ had stuck to her guns thus far. Evidently, she really didn’t want a relationship, and a man could only take so much rejection before he needed some sort of validation.

  While he actively observed what was going on around him, Brantley continued to glance at the door, wondering whether or not Trey and Magnus would return. That was certainly a match he hadn’t seen coming.

  When an hour went by, he knew his brother was no longer pondering decisions in the parking lot. He was gone, and since Magnus hadn’t returned, he could only assume he’d gone with him.

  “I think there’s somethin’ in the water,” Brantley said, still processing all that he was seeing.

  “Your brother’s a big boy,” Reese stated. “He can handle himself.”

  Brantley glanced at him. “Who said I was talkin’ about Trey?”

  Reese grinned. “You weren’t?”

  “Well, yeah. But still. You’re not allowed to be a mind reader.”

  “No?”

  “No. It’ll make all the dirty thoughts I have of you awkward.” He grinned, took a sip from his beer. “For you.”

  Reese laughed, a blush creeping up his neck.

  Yeah, he fucking loved that about Reese.

  “But seriously,” he continued. “Magnus and Trey? Did you see that one comin’?”

  If Cyrus’s earlier reaction was anything to go by, Brantley wasn’t the only one surprised. The man had come marching out of the hallway with rage burning in his gaze. Truth was, Brantley’d never seen Cyrus pissed before. Hell, he hadn’t figured the man was even capable.

  “I did not, no,” Reese said as they both now stared at the door where Trey and Magnus had escaped a short time ago.

  “They’re not comin’ back,” he told Reese.

  “Nope.” Reese tipped his beer back, and after draining the bottle, he looked over. “Why’re we still here?”

  “Because I like to wine and dine you.”

  “Do you now?” Reese smirked.

  “Although I’d prefer you naked when I do,” he admitted, grinning back.

  More color came into Reese’s face, and it made him smile wider. God, he loved this man. Every damn thing about him.

  The doors opened, and Brantley’s gaze shot over because he’d been watching it for so long. Nope, still not Trey or Magnus. He didn’t recognize the newcomer.

  Reese leaned in closer, motioned toward Baz with his beer bottle. “What do you think about this?”

  “I think it’s unfortunate but probably necessary. He’s gotta move on sometime.”

  Reese stared back at him as though he
couldn’t believe the response.

  “What?”

  “You said they’d figure it out. He and JJ.”

  Brantley nodded. “Yeah. I was hopin’ they would.”

  Unfortunately, since Baz was vigorously flirting with the blonde now, he didn’t think that was going to happen.

  “Are you second-guessin’ yourself now?”

  Was he?

  Reese chuckled. “You know it’s okay if you’re wrong.”

  Brantley tossed back the rest of his beer. “I’m not wrong.”

  “Sure you are.”

  “Tell me one time I’ve been wrong.”

  “Today?”

  Brantley frowned. “When was I wrong today?”

  Reese nodded toward the door. “You said Trey wasn’t over Cyrus yet. I suspect you were wrong about that.”

  He had said that, huh? Just that morning over breakfast.

  Hmm.

  Brantley exhaled, leaned back in his chair. He did his best not to look at his watch, although he’d been wishing for the past hour that it was midnight. They still had a couple hours to go.

  He peered over at Reese. “Remember what JJ said? About kissin’ someone at midnight bein’ good luck?”

  “I remember.”

  “You think it’s true?”

  “Never heard it before.”

  Neither had Brantley.

  “But I have heard that who you kiss at midnight’s gonna be who you’re with for the year,” Reese noted.

  Brantley considered that for a minute. “Is that so?”

  Reese shrugged. “Don’t know if there’s any proof it’s valid, but yeah, I’ve heard it.”

  Brantley leaned closer to Reese, lowered his voice. “Usin’ that logic, what’s it mean if you’re also fuckin’ the one you’re kissin’ at midnight?”

  He probably should’ve, at the very least, let Reese take his drink before he asked the question. Because he hadn’t, Reese choked on his beer.

  And then in a move that surprised the shit out of Brantley, Reese leaned over, put his mouth right to his ear and said, “Not sure. But maybe we should go home and find out.” Reese paused. “You know, after midnight.”

  It took everything in him not to rip Reese right out of his chair and drag him out the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  Brantley wasn’t sure how he managed to make it to the countdown.

  For the past few hours—no, scratch that—ever since he saw Reese sporting the hat and boots, the only thing he’d wanted to do was find a horizontal surface and … hell, he didn’t have an agenda after that. As long as they were naked, it didn’t much matter what they engaged in. It was always sinfully hot and intensely satisfying.

  And now that they’d toasted the new year like friends—he had no desire to put Reese on edge by expecting anything more in public—Brantley was ready to take their party back to the house and start the naked part of the evening.

  “Please tell me you’re ready,” he said to Reese, leaning in close to his ear since the bar was still loud.

  “I am, yeah.”

  Brantley pulled back, sighed his relief.

  “You think we should convince Baz to jet, too?” Reese asked.

  He glanced over, saw Baz downright cozy with the blonde. Looked as though he’d finally made a decision, considering he’d been flirting with both the redheaded waitress and the blonde all night long.

  As much as he hated to see it, to know that Baz was moving on, Brantley couldn’t blame the guy. After all, this was what JJ had been pushing him toward for the past month. Right into the arms of some woman who would not allow Baz to think about JJ for at least a few hours.

  “Nah. He’s a big boy,” Brantley answered. “But we will take his truck, make sure he doesn’t drive in his current condition.”

  “Good idea.”

  While Reese convinced Baz to hand over his truck keys, Brantley went to the bar, closed out their tab, covering Baz for the night, too.

  Reese approached holding Baz’s keys up. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

  After signing the credit card receipt, Brantley hightailed it out of there. He made good time getting home, shaving nearly a solid minute off the time all because he was eager to get his hands on Reese.

  When he arrived, he found the house was still dark, but Baz’s truck was parked out front, meaning Reese had double-timed it, too.

  “Reese?” he called out when he made it inside.

  Toenails clicked on hardwood, and he glanced down to see Tesha moving toward him, a little hesitant but no longer cowering at any and every sound.

  “Hey, girl,” he greeted, scratching her head when he moved close enough. “It’s all good. Just me.”

  Evidently she was happy with that, because she turned and trotted back to her bed in the living room.

  Hearing sounds coming from their bedroom, Brantley headed that way, pausing in the doorway.

  The bedside lamp was on, and Reese was stripping off his shirt, revealing the deliciously sculpted body Brantley loved to ravish every chance he could.

  “Damn,” he muttered, leaning his shoulder against the jamb. “I like the show.”

  “Do you?” Reese taunted, looking up as his fingers moved to the button on his jeans.

  “Oh, yeah. Keep goin’, cowboy.”

  The blush that crept up Reese’s neck made Brantley’s dick hard. There was something so sinful about a shy yet confident man.

  He watched as Reese did a slow, slightly uncoordinated strip tease. He’d mistakenly believed he could remain cool and collected through it all, right up until Reese’s boxer briefs disappeared and the man stared back at him with a bashful but ridiculously sexy smile on his face.

  Brantley took a step forward, setting his hat on the dresser then unbuttoning his shirt. He closed the distance between them, while Reese stood gloriously naked, watching him. Once he tossed his shirt to the floor, he was on Reese, fusing their lips together while his hands roamed over smooth, hot skin.

  “Do you know how hard it is to keep my hands off you?” Brantley whispered, sliding his lips down Reese’s jaw, his neck. “All fuckin’ night, the only thing I could think about was touchin’ you.” He nipped Reese’s neck. “Tastin’ you.”

  He trailed his lips over Reese’s collarbone, down. Reese moaned when Brantley licked one taut nipple while tweaking the other as Brantley eased down to his knees.

  Taking Reese’s cock in his mouth, he stared up at the gorgeous man, enjoying the way Reese’s mouth opened as another moan escaped him. He teased and tormented, taking his time, listening to those rough, needy groans coming out of the man he loved.

  “Don’t make me come,” Reese said gruffly, palming Brantley’s head. “Not yet.”

  “You have somethin’ else in mind?” he asked, releasing Reese’s hot, velvety flesh from between his lips but not his fist.

  “Oh, yeah.” Reese pumped his hips, fucking Brantley’s fist.

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yes,” Reese huffed with a laugh, pulling out of Brantley’s grasp before urging Brantley to his feet. “And it requires you to be naked.”

  “Does it?” Brantley took care of that in a hurry. “Now what’s on the agenda?”

  Reese’s smile was both salacious and mischievous, telling Brantley it was going to be a damn good rest of the night.

  They eased down onto the bed, hands continuing to roam, lips and tongues melding as they savored one another. Although there was a tension that was building to an ultimate crescendo, Brantley didn’t want it to end, so he maintained a steady pace, backing off when he feared they would get to their destination before he was ready.

  “Christ,” Reese breathed out. “I need you so fuckin’ bad. Let me have you, Brantley,” Reese ground out, his tone becoming more demanding.

  “You’ve got me.” Brantley nipped Reese’s lower lip. “Tonight and always.”

  “Now,” Reese commanded.

  It was a side of R
eese he’d seen more of in recent weeks. Truthfully, he’d never considered being with an alpha because he was one and ultimately liked being in control. But it worked with Reese somehow. Despite, or maybe because of, that delicate balance.

  Without complaint, Brantley conceded control, allowed Reese to take over.

  On his back, he was manhandled into place, tormented with Reese’s wicked touch until he was panting and pleading. And the moment Reese drove into him, Brantley was ready, accepting him to the hilt.

  He banded his arms around Reese, held him firmly while their tongues thrashed and Reese’s hips pumped.

  “Fuck, yes,” Reese mumbled against his lips. “Tight. Hot.” Reese pulled back, stared down at him. “Perfect.”

  Brantley held Reese’s gaze. “Don’t make me beg.”

  Reese’s grin was wicked, his strokes shifting to slow and shallow.

  Brantley grunted, tried to take more of him. “Damn it.”

  Reese leaned in, his words a dark rasp when he said, “Beg me.”

  “Fuck. Me.” He nipped Reese’s bottom lip. “Now.”

  There was no hesitation. Reese pinned Brantley’s hands to the bed, forced his knees up by his chest as he slammed in deep and hard. Brantley relaxed, letting it take him under, allowing the sensation of being filled so brutally to calm his mind and take him to the one place he never wanted to leave. Right here with the man he loved.

  “God, yes,” Reese grunted, driving into him over and over, faster, deeper.

  Lacing his fingers with Reese’s, Brantley held on for dear life. “Harder, baby.”

  Reese hovered over him, drilling his hips down, his cock buried to the hilt with every thrust. Again and again, Brantley was assaulted by a pleasure so intense he wondered how he would survive it.

  He held on for as long as he could, content to watch Reese as he chased his own release. By the time they’d both developed a fine sheen of sweat, Brantley was barely hanging on by a thread.