Page 6 of Missing Pieces (Brantley Walker: Off the Books #12)

“Holly just texted. Simon and Archer are here,” Reese called from his second-floor office. “She saw ’em pull up, so she’s walkin’ them to the back door.”

Brantley looked up from his computer, tilting his head to stretch his neck.

They’d both gotten right to work after they’d checked in with the team—or rather with Holly, since no one else had been around.

It had become routine. Waking up, going for a run, back for a shower, then a quick trip to the hospital, followed by breakfast on the go.

After that, they worked in their offices for an hour or so to give the team time to trickle in before heading over to HQ.

At that point, the day became a whirlwind of research and interviews as they worked on the cold cases Baz had assigned them.

While Brantley wouldn’t outwardly complain about their daily hospital visits, he would admit it was causing a minor interruption in their sweet little routine.

On the days they went early, Brantley missed out on water fun first thing.

Not exactly how he liked to start the day—being inside Reese was his new favorite place—but he was dealing with it since it was only temporary.

Brantley pushed back from his desk, figuring it would be more professional to greet their guests directly, considering their introductions had taken place at a bar.

Not that there was anything wrong with that.

Brantley considered himself a laidback kinda guy.

No need for formalities in the workplace.

Certainly not with the amount of stress they endured on a given day.

But he would admit that making a good impression was in their best interest. From a business perspective, anyway.

“You want me to bring ’em up here?” Reese asked when he reached the doorway. “Or not,” he tacked on with a smile.

Brantley smirked as he approached. “We can go downstairs. I could use some food.”

“Seriously?” Reese looked at his watch. “You just had breakfast a coupla hours ago.”

“I had coffee and a sausage biscuit. Not exactly breakfast of champions,” Brantley corrected. “Plus, comin’ up with all the ways I’m gonna make you cry out my name takes energy.”

It was impossible to miss the blush that crept up Reese’s neck. He loved that he did that so often. It was fucking adorable.

Reese’s eyebrows lifted slowly. “And you expect me to make you a sandwich.”

“Nope. I’ll make it.”

“Will you now?”

Brantley nodded, then gestured for Reese to precede him toward the stairs. “Of course. Then tonight, you can reward me for makin’ the effort.”

“Ah. And what does this reward entail?”

“Your mouth. My dick.”

Reese huffed a laugh as they walked down. “And if I make your sandwich?”

“My dick. Your mouth.”

Reese snorted. “Nice try.”

“What? Tell me you don’t enjoy it.”

The soft hitch in Reese’s breath was the only answer he needed.

Despite his teasing, Brantley already knew which way this would go.

Reese would make him a sandwich because Brantley’s attempt at cooking was usually subpar.

Even with something as simple as a sandwich.

His patience made it as far as yellow mustard, bologna, and two slices of bread.

Reese, on the other hand, piled on the deli meats, fancy cheeses, and veggies and even added some of that fru-fru mustard shit.

There was no comparison. This meant, at some point this afternoon, Brantley would show his gratitude for Reese’s determination.

He preferred to do it when Reese least expected it.

“I’m not sure I trust you to make anything in the kitchen,” Reese said when they reached the main floor.

“There’s one thing I’m good at makin’ in the kitchen,” Brantley said, reaching for Reese’s arm and pulling him to a stop.

“A mess?”

Brantley huffed a laugh as he stepped in close, lowered his voice. “If you think makin’ you come is makin’ a mess, then yeah.”

God, he loved the way Reese’s whiskey-brown eyes glazed over.

“That won’t be happenin’, Navy boy,” Reese said. “We’ve got company comin’.”

“Fair enough.” Brantley leaned in, tilted his head slightly. “You can make me a sandwich, and when the house is clear, I’ll put my mouth on your dick. How does that sound?”

To stop Reese from arguing, Brantley jerked him tight against him before crushing his mouth to Reese’s. He figured they had no more than ten, maybe fifteen seconds before their guests reached the house, which was just enough time for a quick fix to hold his addiction to this man at bay.

It took tremendous effort to refrain from touching Reese. In a perfect world, he would keep the man naked all the damn time, simply so he could indulge whenever he wanted. Unfortunately, life was not kind to his overactive libido, but he was learning to deal with it.

Mostly.

Brantley pulled back just as the knock sounded. A second later, the sliding glass door opened.

“We have company,” Brantley said, holding Reese’s glazed stare.

“Payback’s a bitch,” Reese whispered before pivoting on his heel and heading for the kitchen.

Yes, it was. And Brantley was looking forward to it.

He followed Reese, stopping at the kitchen island in an effort to conceal the evidence of what they’d been doing seconds ago. His dick was threatening to tear through his zipper, and no one needed to see that.

“And who is this?” Archer asked, his full attention on Tesha, who was alert and standing but not growling.

Brantley was silent, expecting Reese to do the greeting. Only he didn’t.

“Tesha,” Brantley told him. “She’s our … I was gonna say partner, but I’m not sure that’s the case. She’s more like the boss. We relocated her from a bad existence and put her in charge of ours.”

“Sounds like a win-win. Would it be all right to pet her?” he asked.

“Sure.”

Archer approached slowly, stopping with a few feet between them. The giant of a man squatted down and held out one big hand. “Hey, girl. Name’s Archer. I like animals, all kinds. Not so much ferrets, but that’s a story for another time.”

All eyes were on Archer and Tesha. It only took a second for Tesha to move closer.

She sniffed Archer’s hand before moving again and again until she rested her chin in Archer’s palm.

He moved slowly, rubbing her head with his thumb and gradually shifting his hand until he was scratching the top of her head.

Tesha, not usually so friendly with strangers, moved in until she was practically in his lap.

“You must be all right,” Brantley joked.

“Yup. You and I will be besties soon enough,” Archer told Tesha as he stood slowly, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’ll be in the barn if you need me,” Holly said, her eyes trailing over Archer Halligan like he was a lollipop and she was about to take a lick.

“We were about to make sandwiches,” Brantley told them while Reese busied himself with dishes and ingredients, likely trying to hide the blush on his face. “Want something?”

“I’m good. Thanks,” Simon said.

Archer grinned. “I won’t say no to food.”

“Sandwiches,” Brantley stated. “With ham.”

“Turkey and roast beef,” Reese corrected.

“Sorry. Turkey and roast beef on white.”

“Wheat,” Reese announced.

Brantley grinned and winked at their guests before continuing. “Turkey and roast beef on wheat with Swiss and mayo.”

“Cheddar and must—” Reese pulled his head out of the fridge. “You’re fuckin’ with me, aren’t you?”

“A little bit, yeah.” He turned back to Archer and Simon, pointing toward the stools on the other side of the island. “Have a seat. Somethin’ to drink?”

“Water works for me.” Archer nodded toward Simon. “He’ll have the same, although he’ll tell you he’s good.”

Brantley had only met Archer Halligan a few days ago, but he would admit he’d liked the guy instantly. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was about him, but he had a feeling the beast of a man would fit in well with the team.

“I am good,” Simon countered. “Not everyone likes to raid the pantry wherever they go.”

“It’s a good way to get to know someone,” Archer argued.

“It is not.”

“You say not, I say is.”

“How long’ve you two been married?” Brantley asked, interrupting the banter.

“Sorry about that. I asked him to be on his best behavior,” Simon said with a smirk. “He’s not, so it must be a day that ends in ‘y’.”

Reese snorted a laugh from behind him. “I’ve got one like that.”

“Now that that’s outta the way…” Brantley grinned.

“I thought maybe we could talk briefly this mornin’, then reconvene this afternoon when I can get Sebastian Buchanan—we call him Baz—here.

We’ve recently promoted him. He handles caseloads and whatnot.

Runs the office. Or he will once he’s back from paternity leave.

JJ’s in the hospital—bed rest until the babies are born. ”

“So she was right?” Simon asked, grinning as he glanced at Archer. “JJ was havin’ contractions at the wedding but was adamant she was not in labor.”

Brantley laughed. “That’s JJ. She’s stubborn enough to hold off until she’s ready. Or she likes to think she is.”

Archer glanced between them. “So you’re not in charge?”

“Technically,” Reese drawled.

“Don’t listen to him. We tried that whole thing with me runnin’ the show,” Brantley admitted. “I’m not a fan of bureaucracy and red tape. Workin’ for Sniper 1 Security means there’s a shit ton of that. I leave that shit to Baz and Reese. I prefer to work cases.”

“I know the feelin’,” Archer said. “I’ll do what needs to be done, but I like to get my hands dirty.”

Yeah, Brantley liked this guy.

Since Reese was still working on the sandwiches, Brantley opted to jump right into it.

“If you’re still workin’ on the…” He circled his finger in the air. “The thingy cast.”

“Podcast,” Reese corrected.

“Yeah. That thing. How much time would you have to dedicate to the task force?”

Archer looked at Simon, and a silent question passed between them. A second later, Simon nodded.

Archer met Brantley’s gaze. “I think the question is, how much time will you need me on the task force?”