Oh, yeah. He knew it. “If you’re early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late,” Atticus said, reciting the motto JJ drilled into everyone to protect them from Brantley’s wrath.
“Exactly.”
As he went to grab his clothes from his bag, Atticus had to wonder whether he’d imagined the whole damn thing.
***
There was a reason Evan didn’t sleepon the sofa. Every time he did, he woke up with knots in his back.
This morning was no different. It took ten minutes to get to his feet after stretching as much as possible to contort his body back into something resembling normal.
Not that the sofa bed hadn’t been comfortable. Truth was, Evan had slept pretty well. He’d passed out to thoughts of Becs in the next room. It had been his only option when his brain drifted wildly out of control. When he started thinking about slipping into that big bed with Becs, he’d shut the thoughts down and started counting backward from five hundred. He couldn’t remember what number he’d stopped on, but it worked.
The door to Becs’s room opened, and she stepped out. “The bathroom’s free if you need it.”
“Thanks,” he grumbled, scratching his chin.
“I’m gonna head down.”
She didn’t even look at him when she spoke.
“Becs?”
She didn’t turn around, her hand already on the door handle. “You want me to order you coffee?”
“That’d be great.”
With that, she slipped out, leaving Evan to stare after her.
He knew he’d fucked up last night when he’d nearly kissed her. It hadn’t been intentional. He simply couldn’t help himself. Ever since their kiss in his kitchen, he’d been thinking about her non-stop—more than he had before, which had been all the damn time, too.
But now his thoughts involved kissing her, and clearly, they weren’t on the same page anymore.
“Shit,” he grumbled as he headed for the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, Evan emerged, showered, shaved, and ready for the day. He grabbed his phone and the room key Becs had given him, then ventured down to the hotel’s restaurant to meet the rest of the team.
He was the last to arrive, which caused all eyes to shift to him. He didn’t bother looking at his watch. He wasn’t late, but he was cutting it close.
“Mornin’,” Reese greeted as Evan pulled out a chair.
“Good morning,” he replied, dropping into the seat beside Slade, skimming all the faces at the table to see if he could determine what he’d missed. If Atticus’s bored expression was anything to go by, he hadn’t missed anything yet.
“I ordered for you,” Slade told him.
Evan had been partnered with Slade long enough that the guy knew what he ate for breakfast. Most of the time, it was toast and coffee, but when he went all out, he preferred his eggs over easy and his hash browns extra crispy.
“We’re heading back today,” Brantley announced as Evan took his first sip of coffee. “We found Deck last night.”
All heads snapped in the boss’s direction, which told Evan that news hadn’t been shared before his arrival.
“Where was he?” Atticus asked.
“Is he all right?” Becs asked.
Brantley nodded at Becs and answered Atticus with, “A house in Chelsea.”
Becs looked at Evan.
