“I’m up,” he said, pushing to his feet.
Becs’s eyes raked down his entire body, from his neck to his toes.
“Honey,” he said smoothly, “if I’m expected to be a gentleman, you’ll have to stop looking at me like that.”
Her lips parted with a gasp, her eyes shifting to his face. “I’m so sorry.”
He chuckled softly. “Don’t apologize. I’m not complaining. But…” He gestured toward the door.
She nodded curtly. “Right. Coffee. I’ll get it started.”
With that, she darted out of his bedroom.
Evan stared after her for several seconds before his feet got with the program. He ignored his eager cock, hoping the damn thing hadn’t started tenting his shorts until after she left.
***
An hour after Z had woken himup, after Brantley called JJ, unwilling to risk her not seeing a text message, and after a shower with Reese that lasted as long as the hot water did, Brantley was in the kitchen waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.
Reese was pulling eggs and bacon from the refrigerator, getting to work as he always did on Sunday morning. It didn’t matter that they had a case or would likely be on the road in a matter of hours; this was Reese’s way of creating some semblance of stability in their routine. Although Brantley had been driven by routine early in his military career, that had shifted when he joined the Teams. For the last several years of his career in the Navy, it had been lacking in his life. He figured that was the reason he’d begun to appreciate the sense of normalcy it provided.
While Reese worked at the stove, Brantley prepared Tesha’s food, delivering the bowl to her. While she chowed down, he rinsed and filled her water bowl. She was so focused on eating that Brantley heard the sound of footsteps outside before she did.
Clearly sensing there was no threat, Tesha let out a soft bark, sparing only a few seconds on the back door before it finally opened.
Baz was there, stepping out of the way so JJ could come inside.
“Are you wearin’ pajamas?” Brantley asked, staring at her long cotton pants, which had clouds all over them.
“Shut it,” she groused. “They’re comfortable.”
Brantley’s gaze snapped to Baz. He shrugged, a silent confirmation that, yes, he’d noticed that JJ wasn’t her usual chipper self this morning, too.
“I’m makin’ breakfast,” Reese said. “You two want some?”
“I’ll never turn down bacon,” JJ told him, pulling out a stool at the island. “Especially not when you’re cookin’ it.”
Baz nodded in agreement, and Reese went to work doubling the amount.
“Since you dragged me outta bed on a Sunday, this better be a damn good case,” JJ said, accepting the juice Brantley passed over to her.
“Might I remind you, this is your fault,” he quipped.
“Mine?” She frowned, glancing between the three of them. “How’s that?”
“You jinxed us,” Reese said without looking up from the skillet.
“He’s right,” Baz chimed in.
“Y’all are idiots,” she muttered. “What’s the case?”
Brantley shrugged. “Z said to get the team together. All I know is it’s not local.”
JJ sighed. “Don’t tell me he’s gonna have us playin’ bounty hunters again.”
Brantley grinned.
“The last time your brother”—JJ pointed a finger at Reese—“wanted us to help, he had us chasin’ a man up and down the I-35 corridor between here and Dallas.”
