Page 1 of Missing Pieces (Brantley Walker: Off the Books #12)

“I’m sure a lot of people would be fond of hospitals if they were all like this,” Brantley Walker mused as he strolled down the long corridor toward the labor and delivery wing. Although he’d visited at least once a day for the past nine days, it still caught him off guard how nice this place was.

“Yeah?” Reese Tavoularis, the man Brantley had married nine short days ago, didn’t sound convinced.

“Shit. If you could be taken care of in a place like this ”—he gestured toward the nurse’s station, which held two child-size vases of fresh flowers, giving the sterile white space some life—“Why wouldn’t you?”

“You and I both know those flowers came from Wes.”

Brantley had figured as much. It made sense that Wesley Buchanan, grandfather-to-be, would ply the nurses in this wing with gifts simply because he could.

Rumor was he’d catered in breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the staff in this wing at least four times in the past week.

The man was generous like that. Not to mention, fucking loaded.

As they neared the door to JJ’s birthing suite, Brantley’s shoulders tensed. “I really hope she’s in a good mood.”

“I’m sure she’s not,” Reese said with a smirk. “But she wouldn’t be JJ otherwise.”

True. These days, his best friend, Jessica James, a.k.a.

JJ, wasn’t known for her charming personality.

He didn’t fault her for it, really, but it also didn’t make him look forward to these daily trips.

Since he’d been through worse—in the Navy when he was buried under a building and nearly died—he opted to suck it up.

She wouldn’t be in this hospital forever.

Taking a deep breath in, Brantley rapped his knuckles on the door with his exhale. There was no response right away, so they waited. He was about to knock again when he heard JJ say, “Get your asses in here already.”

Nope. No good mood today either.

Squaring his shoulders, he pressed the handle lever to open the door. He pushed it open slowly, revealing the enormous suite where JJ was riding out the last days of her pregnancy—however many there might be.

“Hey, Tesha,” JJ greeted, smiling down at their canine partner. These days, Tesha went along for the ride anytime they left the house. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

Brantley fought the urge to laugh but instead rolled his eyes. Passive-aggressive much?

“We brought you somethin’,” he told his best friend.

There was a barely-there hint of a smile on her face as she eyed the takeout bag Reese was carrying.

“It’s about time,” JJ grumbled, a dark storm cloud in the otherwise soothing gray room.

“Good mornin’ to you, too,” Reese told her as he walked the forty miles from the door to the bed to give her the breakfast they’d picked up on their way in.

And fine, maybe forty miles was a bit of a stretch, but the space was enormous.

Large enough to hold a king-size bed, a long, glossy white dresser mounted to the wall, a bathtub that would hold at least four people, two wall-mounted televisions, two nightstands (on wheels to get them out of the way if needed), as well as a sitting area that was about the size of their living room.

Oh, and there was also a private bathroom that put Brantley’s to shame.

At the moment, JJ was propped up in the big bed, half a dozen pillows keeping her in place, while the father-to-be, Sebastian Buchanan, a.k.a.

Baz, was occupying the sitting area on the far side of the room, feet propped up, laptop resting on his thighs.

Brantley got the feeling they didn’t move much from where they were and probably wouldn’t until the delivery.

“Do you share that thing with him?” Brantley asked, gesturing toward the bed and then over to Baz.

“Only when I have to.” She flashed a smile.

Brantley had to wonder which was more comfortable: the bed or the chocolate-brown leather recliners? If it were him, he would likely choose the chairs since they were positioned to face a fifty-five-inch television currently playing a news channel with the volume all the way down.

Brantley jerked his chin at Baz. “Mornin’.”

Baz’s smile looked forced, but he managed a subtle chin jerk in response.

“He’s in time out,” JJ announced.

“Time out?” Brantley barked a laugh. “For what?”

“You want to tell them?” JJ asked, sounding far too much like Brantley’s mother back when he’d been a wild and rambunctious kid and she spent most of her waking hours reprimanding him. No doubt he’d deserved it. He wasn’t sure the same could be said for Baz, though.

Baz inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly. “Because I went to the gift shop and forgot to pick her up a package of the little chocolate donuts,” he droned, his tone defeated.

“He got these,” JJ said, lifting up a package of powdered donuts. The white ones that left a mess on your shirt and fingers when you tried to eat them.

“And those are bad, why?” Brantley was almost positive he’d seen JJ eating those little powdered circles before.

Her eyes narrowed, and he knew he’d said the wrong thing.

“Well, it’s a good thing we got you these,” Reese told her as he set the bag on the tray beside the bed.

“They’re your favorite,” Brantley noted.

She curled her lip, reaching for the bag. “No, my favorite is—” Her eyes popped wide. “Oh my God! These are—” Her gaze slammed into Reese. “How?”

Reese grinned. “I stopped by Batter & Bliss yesterday and asked Ramona if she’d make you a couple. She made ’em fresh this mornin’.”

Tears rimmed JJ’s lashes but didn’t quite spill over as she stared lovingly at her breakfast. “Cronuts. And it’s not even Saturday.”

Brantley watched as JJ sniffled, wrapping the croissant-donut hybrid in a napkin as if it were some sort of rare delicacy.

In an effort to change the subject, Brantley wandered over to the large tub that sat in the corner of the room. It was shaped like a Jacuzzi, only there weren’t any jets. Apparently, those were bad for pregnant women, which he’d learned the first time he made the mistake of asking about it.

“Get any use out of this thing yet?” He patted the edge of the tub, knowing what the answer was. If memory served, the tub was used for water births.

“No. And we won’t if I have anything to say about it,” JJ insisted.

Based on Baz’s expression, that was a topic better left unexplored.

“Alrighty then.” He looked around the room, trying to come up with something to say.

He figured talking about the large, fully tiled bathroom with its shower built for forty would likely not go over any better than if he brought up the machines discreetly tucked away behind a curtain at the head of the bed.

They were tracking things like heart rates and contractions, feeding the information directly to the nurses working out there with all those flowers.

JJ nibbled on her pastry. “What’s on the agenda today?”

That was a loaded question if he’d ever heard one. But only because JJ’s mood swings were strong enough to take a fully grown man out at the knees. He wasn’t sure whether he should tell her the truth or shrug it off as though there wasn’t much to do. Either way, she would likely blow a fuse or two.

Since it was inevitable, he opted for the truth.

“We’re meeting with a coupla people.”

With the cronut halfway to her mouth, JJ paused, her eyes narrowing, green sparks flickering in them.

“People?”

Brantley nodded.

“ People people?”

He nodded again, wondering if those monitors she was hooked up to caused brain damage.

“What kinda people?”

“The human kind.”

“For what?”

Confused, he said, “For what what ?”

JJ’s eyes narrowed again. “What are you meetin’ them for?”

“Interviews,” he blurted because he couldn’t think of anything better.

Her gaze shifted across the room, landing on Baz briefly before swinging back and slamming into him. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

Brantley looked at Reese, wishing marriage caused telepathy because at least then Reese would be able to answer his silent question: What the hell is the correct answer to that?

Oh, shit.

Reese knew they were in trouble. Which, to be fair, wasn’t really new. At least not since JJ was admitted to the hospital. He only wished he’d put some distance between himself and her before they revealed that tidbit of information.

“Uh-uh,” JJ snapped when Reese attempted to take a step away from the bed. “Don’t you dare.”

He swore he heard Baz chuckling across the room, and he could only imagine the guy was thinking, Better you than me .

“Why are you meeting with more people? I thought you’d hired everyone already.”

“We did,” Brantley said.

JJ’s eyes narrowed to slits.

Definitely not helping.

Brantley laughed. “Cool your jets, woman. We’re just meetin’ to talk. That’s it.”

Although her eyes remained pinned on Brantley, JJ relaxed a little. “About what?”

Reese stared at Brantley, wondering how he was going to talk his way out of this.

“To see if they’d be a good fit.”

Okay. Not bad. Not exactly the truth, but not bad for a little white lie.

Granted, Reese didn’t think it was a good idea to correct Brantley’s statement.

They were actually meeting with Simon Jennings and Archer Halligan, but only Archer was a potential hire.

The conversation they’d have with Simon was what would likely set JJ off if she found out about it.

But only because she would want to be in on it.

And he honestly couldn’t blame her since they usually kept her apprised of those things.

Now that she was technically on leave, not to mention she was supposed to be resting and not stressing about work, they were tackling things without her input.

And yeah, now that he thought about it, that was likely one of the reasons for her bad mood.

“I promise, we won’t talk about anything in depth unless you or Baz are there,” Brantley said, attempting to defuse the situation.

“Promise?”

Reese grinned when Brantley canted his head to the side. “I said that already.”

She puckered her lips in a pout. “I hate that I can’t be there.”