But the one thing he’d learned about his brother: Brantley didn’t much care about his comfort level. At every turn, Trey found himself in an awkward situation, usually of Brantley’s design.
At least this was keeping his mind from wandering to last night.
It was still hard to believe it had only been hours and not days since he’d boldly gone back to his place with Magnus and spent hours indulging in the sinfully delicious man. Like this one, that wasn’t a situation Trey generally found himself in, either. He wasn’t a man-whore like so many would like to believe. He didn’t go around hopping from one man’s bed to the next. Nor did he invite them into his bed frequently.
If anything, Trey figured he was a serial monogamist. He preferred to be in a relationship, to have someone to talk to, laugh with. It was rare for him to go without an exclusive commitment. And he knew that wasn’t a good thing. It didn’t make for an appealing quality. Not as far as most men he’d been with recently were concerned, anyway.
Last night, he’d told Magnus that was all he wanted from him. One night of mind-blowing orgasms. With the light of day, they would move on, pretend it never happened. And while Magnus had slipped out like a thief in the night, here Trey was, violating his own rule. He shouldn’t be thinking about the sexy man or how good Magnus had felt moving beneath him while they both chased that elusive release.
Realizing sweat was forming on his brow, Trey forced the thoughts away, cleared his throat, and sat up straight.
He had damn good timing, because Corinne stepped into the room. She looked a bit worse for wear, tears streaking down her face.
“I’m so sorry we left you in here,” she said softly. “Can I get you somethin’ to drink? We’ve got water, tea, sodas. I was gonna make some coffee.”
“I’ll take coffee if you’re makin’ it,” he replied, keeping his voice low and even. “Thank you.”
Trey’s phone buzzed on the table.
He peered down, saw it was a text from Brantley:Tugging on a few strings to see where they lead. Will keep you updated.
That told him nothing really. Certainly not enough to relay to the Greenwoods, which he hoped was not something he was supposed to do.
Chapter Twenty
Baz loved watching JJ work.
It had been a fascination of his since the very beginning. With each case they handled together, he would learn more little details about her in the way she worked. The way she would move her fingers over the keys even without depressing them. As though she was typing up her thoughts as she had them. Or the way she would chew on her bottom lip while she toggled between screens. And every now and again, she would blow her hair back from her face, which rarely did any good because those stray strands would simply fall forward again.
As he sipped coffee, Baz unabashedly admired her, listening to her mutter to herself as her fingers flew over the keyboard, this time with intent. He’d been listening to her for an hour, learning her true feelings for Luca Switzer, a man she clearly respected but secretly despised. Baz wanted to believe that was due to the man’s superior abilities—JJ’s words, not his—and not a previous relationship the two of them had.
If only Baz had the right to care or be jealous of JJ and her past relationships, then he might just ask her. Unfortunately, he’d given up that right last night when he had…
He shook off the thoughts of last night. It made him sick to his stomach to think about, to know he was capable of being with another woman when only one held his heart. It didn’t matter that he’d overindulged, that he’d drowned his sorrows in whiskey. That was no excuse.
“Why would you do this, Dante?” JJ grumbled to herself.
Forcing himself back to the present, Baz got to his feet. He grabbed JJ’s lukewarm coffee, poured it in the sink, and got her a fresh cup, adding milk and sugar, just as she preferred.
He passed it back to her without a word, not wanting to intrude.
She muttered a thanks but didn’t look up from her computer screen.
“Most of his email correspondence is work related,” JJ said absently. “Probably be more beneficial to hack his social media accounts.”
He listened as she worked through the problems, her eyes continuing to scan the screen. Although sitting idly wasn’t his favorite thing to do, Baz knew better than to offer to help.
Baz had just sat down when his phone buzzed. It was lying on the kitchen island, right by JJ’s computer, so she was the first to see the name on the screen.
“Is Molly the woman from last night?”
Frowning, he picked up his phone, saw Molly Ryan was the caller.
Problem was, Baz didn’t know a Molly.
Answering anyway, he greeted with a clipped, “Hello.”
“Hey,” a sugary-sweet voice sounded on the other end. “I was hoping you’d answer.”
