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.Notfuckable.
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 brotherhad 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.
