Reese glanced at Brantley. “You keep in touch with them?”
“Of course.”
Interesting.
Although Reese wasn’t sure why he found it interesting. It made sense that Brantley would keep in touch with the guys he used to work with. Just because he left the military didn’t mean he no longer existed. They were friends, some he probably even considered family. Of course, he knew Brantley would still be leading his SEAL team if it weren’t for the fact he’d been forced into early retirement thanks to the medical discharge.
Then again, Reese hadn’t kept in touch—or vice versa—with the guys from his squadron. After he’d been assumed KIA and left for dead, he’d been pretty much on his own. After the torture he’d endured, he hadn’t been left with much loyalty for those he’d been abandoned by.
“Anyone up for dessert?” Reese’s mother asked when the conversation lulled and plates were pushed aside.
“Let’s give the food time to settle first, Mom,” Z told her with a smile. “Then we’ll be all up in the pie.”
“You okay?” Brantley asked, leaning in close, voice low.
Reese jerked his attention over. “Of course. Why?”
Brantley’s response was a simple eyebrow twitch, which meant Reese had been internalizing his thoughts and ignoring those around him.
He forced away the memories of that long-ago time. At some point, he would have to deal with the lingering anger he harbored along with the fear that seemed to be surfacing when he was asleep, coming in the form of nightmares that were becoming more frequent. But he certainly had no desire to ruin Christmas by getting lost in his own head by revisiting those hellish months when he’d all but prayed for death.
“Why don’t we move this party to the living room,” Hugh suggested. “I know there are at least a dozen presents under that tree.”
Presents.
Fun.
Several hours later, everyone went their separate ways, retiring for the evening.
RT and Z had left, going back to their house. Jensyn was staying the night, insisting she wanted to hang with JJ and spend more time with their mother, the girls likely gossiping about the rest of them.
Reese and Brantley had been given the larger of the two guest rooms despite their insistence they didn’t need more than a sleeping bag and a patch of hardwood. When Brantley had told Reese’s mother as much, Reese had laughed at the horror in her expression. Like Cindy Tavoularis would ever let a guest sleep on the floor.
But it’d been when Brantley offered to take the couch that Reese had spoken up, insisting they would be sharing a room. After all, they lived together. It wasn’t like he could pretend he wasn’t in a relationship with the man. And oddly enough, he found he didn’t want to. Not with his family, at least. Once he’d gotten over the initial concern that his brother would pass judgment on him for his recent realization that he wasn’t as straight as he’d originally thought, Reese had been getting a better grip on his new reality.
Not that he was ready to flaunt it to the world.
Well, mentally he was. When he sat back and thought about it, he had no concerns whatsoever with people knowing he was in love with Brantley. However, the same could not be said when push came to shove and he found himself in a position that required him to reveal that detail. He still clammed up, got overly anxious, and couldn’t bring himself to admit it aloud. But with Brantley’s help, he knew one day he would figure it all out.
Like Brantley always told him: it would take time.
Now as he lay in the darkened room beneath a thick, floral-patterned comforter, head resting on pillows that were just a little too soft, his shoulder and thigh brushed Brantley’s, and Reese found he wanted to be closer to the man. Maybe it had something to do with the fact he’d realized Brantley was keeping in touch with his former SEAL team and he hadn’t bothered to share that fact with him. Or maybe he simply wanted to be close because he craved him like he craved that Jack Daniel’s pecan pie his brother had introduced him to.
Whatever the reason, he knew he couldn’t wait until they were back home tomorrow night before he satisfied this urge by indulging in the most exquisite dessert in the house.
Without saying a word, Reese rolled to his side, shifted so that he was pressed against Brantley, and let his hand wander beneath the blanket, sliding over the smooth, hot skin he’d become intimately acquainted with lately.
“Mmm,” Brantley mumbled softly.
Reese pressed his lips to Brantley’s shoulder, smiled. “Shh.”
“I’ll do my best,” he whispered.
Leaning forward, he placed his mouth near Brantley’s ear. “As long as you’re quiet, I’ll continue.”
Brantley’s response was a nod, which made Reese smile more as he shifted, pushing the blankets down, uncovering them both.
He took his time, caressing, massaging Brantley with his hands and his mouth. The only sounds Brantley made were soft gasps, which spurred Reese to continue, pausing only long enough to get rid of the few clothes in the way and retrieve the lubricant from the overnight bag he’d left on the floor by the bed.
