Reese groaned, his fingertips digging into Brantley’s hip as he held on, fought the insurmountable pleasure for as long as he could until…
“Fuck,” he groaned low in his throat, knees turning to jelly as his release barreled through him.
And then Brantley’s lips were back, his tongue leisurely sliding into his mouth as he came down from that incredible high.
“I love you,” Reese whispered, needing Brantley to hear the words, to know he meant them.
Brantley pulled back, their eyes met, and what he saw sated Reese on a different level.
“I love you, too,” Brantley whispered. “More and more every single day.”
Those words … they were his anchor, even when he didn’t realize he needed one.
Not wanting to go home to an empty house, Trey decided to go to Moonshiners. It wasn’t that he necessarily cared for a beer, but it seemed a better option than going to the diner alone. It sucked to eat dinner by himself, whether at a restaurant or at home.
He’d spent the better part of the day with the task force, listening as they berated themselves for not being able to find one woman despite all the information they’d received in the past few weeks. He felt their frustration, mirrored it even, but for the life of him, Trey didn’t know how to fix this. He didn’t know how to get them what they needed so they could end this once and for all.
Then Brantley had suggested everyone go home and sleep on it. To get some rest so they could come back tomorrow with renewed purpose.
Trey knew sleep wasn’t going to happen because it had eluded him for weeks now. He was running on adrenaline and fucking hope, neither of which was sustaining him.
So this was the only option.
When he walked in, he saw Mack was behind the bar, and the familiar face relaxed something inside him. It seemed Mack was working less and less these days, shifting responsibilities to Rafe Sharpe. Sure, Trey liked Rafe, but he wasn’t the man they’d come to expect to be there, the one who would listen to their bitches and moans because that was his role as the small town’s bartender.
“How’s it goin’?” Mack greeted, his eyes both friendly and concerned.
Being that Mack was married to the sheriff, Trey figured he was up to speed on the case.
“Slow,” he said truthfully.
“Beer?”
He nodded as he took a seat, gave the room a cursory glance.
There weren’t many people in tonight, just a couple of old-timers sitting around shooting the shit, a guy and a girl back at the pool tables laughing and making eyes at one another.
Okay, so it turned out this wasn’t much better than sitting alone at a table for dinner. For whatever reason, he’d thought there would be a few more people than this out tonight. What with Valentine’s Day coming up and all, surely he wasn’t the only sad, lonely soul seeking a little bit of company.
“Thanks,” he said when Mack passed over his beer.
Before Trey could strike up a conversation with the bartender, the door opened.
He looked up as he took a sip, and instantly the brew went down a little harder.
There, strolling in and cutting a path right to the bar, was Magnus Storme. He greeted Mack with a smile and a nod, then motioned toward the end of the bar where Trey was seated.
Surely he wasn’t—
Yes. Yes, he was coming to sit down right next to Trey.
“Hey.”
Trey took another drink, not bothering to offer any pleasantries.
The smirk that formed on Magnus’s too-handsome face said he was amused by Trey’s obstinance.
“Why’re you here?” Trey finally blurted after the silence began suffocating him.
