Deadly Coincidence (Brantley Walker: Off the Books Book 4) Page 10

  Tesha must’ve sensed the tension building, because the dog lifted her head, cast a sideways glance their way. Clearly believing it was safe, she curled up tighter and went back to sleep.

  When Baz looked back at JJ, he noticed her eyes had glassed over, unshed tears filling them. His heart clenched in his chest.

  How they’d managed to make it a full month without having this conversation, he didn’t know. But now that he was here, now that she was paying attention to him, Baz knew they had to clear the air between them.

  Before he could begin, JJ blurted, “You might as well just say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Detective.”

  And there it was. JJ had gone back to referring to him as Detective rather than by name. He’d learned early on that was her way of keeping him at arm’s length.

  “You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”

  Baz leaned his shoulder against the wall, feigned a casualness he didn’t feel. “Actually, I don’t. Enlighten me, JJ.”

  “If this is your way of punishin’ me, you suck.”

  Punishing her? What the fuck was she talking about?

  He stood tall, frowned. “I’m not punishing you. Why would I?”

  JJ held her ground, facing off with him, hands still on her hips. “Because I stood you up on Thanksgiving.”

  “That was weeks ago.” And he’d been biding his time, trying to determine the best approach to ensure they got back to the way things were before.

  “Yes,” she agreed. “It was. And … and because of…” She waved her hand.

  “Because of what?”

  “Because I’ve avoided you all this time.”

  Baz held her gaze. “Since I’d been expectin’ it, perhaps I wasn’t all that bothered by it.”

  Okay, fine. That was a lie. Baz had been bothered by the fact JJ had ghosted him on Thanksgiving after agreeing to go with him to his father’s house for his family’s traditional holiday dinner. He’d been looking forward to spending some time with her, time outside of work, outside of her regular routine. And yes, he’d been looking forward to introducing her to his family.

  However, he wasn’t lying when he said he had expected it. JJ was a complicated woman who’d successfully erected many walls around her heart in an effort to keep everyone out. So, yes, the one thing Baz knew she would do when given the opportunity was run. And hide.

  Fortunately, he was a patient man. He’d already told her they would take this at her pace, and the last thing he expected was for this to be easy. The important things in life never were.

  “So you’re not pissed?” she asked, her eyes sliding over his face as though she was attempting to read his answer by his expression.

  He could see the wariness, the concern. And yes, he could see that she had feelings for him even if she would be the first to deny it.

  “Pissed, no,” he admitted. “Disappointed, yes.”

  She swallowed hard. “Well, I’m good at that. Disappointin’ people. It’s what I do, Detective.”

  Baz closed the distance between them before she had a chance to bolt. He cupped her jaw with one hand, sliding his fingers along the warm, smooth skin of her neck.

  “You didn’t disappoint me, JJ,” he whispered. “I want to spend time with you. That’s all. But I told you, I’ll wait for you.”

  “I don’t want you to wait for me, Baz,” she said, her voice quivering slightly.

  Now she was lying.

  He’d gotten rather adept at pinpointing untruths because that was his job. And while JJ wasn’t necessarily easy to read, he’d caught on to a few of her tells. When she lied, she pressed her front teeth against her bottom lip. It was subtle, but he’d been looking for it.

  “Tough shit,” he said, brushing her cheek with his thumb.

  Oh, how he wanted to kiss her, to touch her, to make love to her. Before he’d ruined things by pushing her too hard, they’d gotten close. Shared some dinners together, talked endlessly although mostly about work. And yes, they’d ended up in bed together, which had been fucking fantastic. Phenomenal, in fact. And for a few moments, he’d even believed some of those walls were coming down and JJ was letting him in.

  He should’ve known better, but he’d been blinded by his feelings for her. What he felt for her … well, it had taken him completely by surprise. He’d never fallen for a woman so hard, never wanted to spend every waking moment with anyone.

  “Baz.”

  Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he stared into her eyes. “I’ll wait for you, JJ,” he repeated.

  JJ shook her head, took a step back.

  Baz had no choice but to drop his hands, to stare at her and wait for her to decimate him one more time because that was what she did to him when she continued to push him away.

  “We can’t do this,” she said softly. “We can’t. It just doesn’t make sense, you and me.”

  He could feel his heart shredding in his chest, but he didn’t move, didn’t speak.

  “I’m not in a place where a relationship makes sense. It just doesn’t. Not right now.” She lifted a finger, pointed at his chest. “And you can’t put your life on hold for me. I’m not worth it.”

  That was more painful than anything. The fact that this woman honestly believed she wasn’t worth anyone’s time. Someone had broken her heart. The question was who? He doubted it was a romantic interest who’d broken her down. JJ wouldn’t let a man do that. But someone had.

  “JJ—”

  “Please don’t,” she rasped, her eyes glassy with tears.

  That was the only reason he backed off, didn’t push the issue. He wasn’t sure he’d survive seeing her cry.

  “Okay,” he finally said. “Okay, JJ. You win.”

  As he was walking out of the barn, he heard her sob, and it was like a two-by-four upside the head.

  Chapter Eight

  Trey stepped into Moonshiners not knowing what to expect for the night.

  He’d never been a big fan of New Year’s. To him it was celebrating just another day, so he didn’t quite understand the rationale behind it. He figured some people needed a reason to party, and this was just another in a long list.

  He was not one of those people.

  Not to mention, aside from the occasional beer, Trey didn’t drink all that much. Had something to do with how he’d overindulged a few years ago, right after his split from his ex-husband. He’d teetered damn close to becoming an alcoholic and it worried him, so these days he shied away from booze.

  Granted, he wasn’t usually one to pass up a night out, some time to hang with both family and friends, having some laughs, enjoying conversation. Unfortunately, he wasn’t feeling it tonight, but he wasn’t quite sure why that was. Something just felt off.

  However, he wasn’t going to give his brothers or his cousins a reason to give him shit, so when they invited him to Moonshiners to ring in the new year right, he had graciously accepted.

  And here he was.

  “Hey, Trey!”

  At the sound of his name, he peered over, saw one of his many cousins waving him over. Holding up a finger in the universal sign for give me a minute, Trey went to the bar, waited until the bartender glanced his way.

  Tonight, the bar was being manned by Rafe Sharpe rather than by Moonshiners’ owner, Mack. That had been the case a lot lately, almost as though Mack was handing over the reins. Whether or not that was true, or if it was simply because Mack was now happily married and spending a large portion of time with his husband, Trey didn’t know, nor would he ask, because it wasn’t any of his damn business.

  Maybe he should pick up the superstitious ritual of making New Year’s resolutions. If he did, that would be his main one for next year: mind his own damn business. Starting right now.

  “Beer?” Rafe asked.

  Trey nodded, figuring he couldn’t be heard over the din of conversation anyway.

  He waited patiently while Rafe retr
ieved a bottle, flipped the top off, passed it over.

  “Put it on my tab.”

  Trey’s head swiveled around, triggered by the familiar voice, but he quickly turned back to Rafe. “No. My own tab, thanks.”

  “It’s good to see you,” Cyrus said kindly.

  Yeah, well, Trey wished he could say the same. But it wasn’t good to see him. Probably wouldn’t be for a while. Not until Trey got over the fact Cyrus had up and moved to California, letting him know by way of text message. Not even an attempt to speak directly to him.

  Trey immediately sidestepped Cyrus, taking a long pull on his beer and pretending not to notice the man.

  “Come on, Trey.” Cyrus’s normally monotone voice held a hint of a whine that made Trey cringe. “I’m in town for a couple days. Can’t we just be civil?”

  To Cyrus, be civil actually meant fuck.

  Trey felt his blood begin to heat, but not from lust or desire. No, this was anger. Hot and potent and directed at the man who’d pretty much dumped him after revealing he now lived fourteen hundred miles away.

  Rather than engage in conversation and risk punching the guy he used to fuck, Trey headed for the cluster of Walkers he’d seen on his way in. Noticing the cousin who’d waved him over was now grinning and making googly eyes with some chick, Trey detoured, heading over to where Brantley and Reese were sitting at a table with that dog trainer Reese had recently hired to help him with Tesha. Magnus something or other.

  When a firm hand landed on his arm, Trey stopped, turned slowly. He glanced down at where Cyrus was holding, then met the man’s dark brown eyes.

  “What’s your problem?” Cyrus asked, his voice lower than before, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

  Before he could launch into all the reasons he wanted Cyrus to take a hike, he heard, “Get your ass over here, Trey,” the command coming from behind him, barked by none other than his brother, Brantley.

  “I’d love to,” he said, glaring at Cyrus before shrugging off his hand.

  “You’re not seriously pissed off at me, are you?” Cyrus asked, his eyes probing his face as though looking for the answer.

  “I’m not pissed, Cy. I don’t give a damn one way or the other.”

  “I took a job,” Cyrus complained. “I’m not sure what you wanted me to do.”

  Giving him a heads-up would’ve been a good start, but Trey didn’t tell him that. Truth was, he didn’t care that Cyrus had taken a job in fucking California. Or that he’d moved and didn’t bother to tell Trey until he had a new permanent address. Trey was merely dealing with some wounded pride, that was all. And until he could get over being ghosted by a man he’d thought he had a connection with, Trey didn’t care to chat it up with him.

  Because nothing good would come from this conversation, Trey turned and walked away. He took the vacant seat beside the dog trainer, doing his level best not to look at the guy.

  Not an easy thing to do, he would admit. Magnus Storme was one of those guys who caused people to do a double take. Could’ve been his hazel eyes—heavy on the blue side tonight thanks to the navy-blue Henley he was wearing—or those chiseled features, the purposely stubbled jaw, or even those perfect lips. Or it could simply be the combination. Magnus was put together in a way that most men weren’t, and although some would’ve probably called him pretty if it weren’t for the previously broken nose, Trey would have to say Magnus was devastatingly handsome.

  And if that wasn’t enough, the guy had a body meant to undress slowly. He figured buying T-shirts off the rack wasn’t an easy thing to do with arms that size. His chest was impressive, too. As was the fact it tapered to a trim waist, then down nicely to what was a world-class ass.

  Not that Trey was looking at Magnus’s ass. The guy was sitting down, after all. But he’d gotten a glimpse the day they met and a few times since. And yeah, he’d given the man a once-over.

  Okay, twice.

  Three times, max.

  For Christ’s sake, he wasn’t interested. He was merely acknowledging a good-looking man. That wasn’t a crime.

  “Nice to see you again,” Magnus said, those hazel eyes glittering with the same charm that oozed from the guy.

  Trey jerked his chin in response, tipped his beer to his lips, took another swallow, and glanced up at the bar. He was going to need another. Maybe two. Or shit, he’d just go with the whiskey. That would likely do the trick even if it would send him spiraling down a hole he didn’t want to end up in.

  When he peered over at Magnus again, he saw the man was still watching him.

  Just fucking great. The last thing Trey needed was this ridiculous temptation he’d been ignoring for the past few weeks, ever since he’d been introduced to Magnus.

  “Mind if I sit?” Cyrus asked, pulling over a chair and not waiting for a response.

  Oh, good. A distraction.

  Trey peered over at his brother and Reese, saw that Reese was all but shooting daggers out of his eyes and they were aimed right at Cyrus. Good to know Trey wasn’t the only one irritated with him tonight. Although he knew Reese’s irritation was permanent and for different reasons.

  “Hey, new guy. How’s it hangin’?” Cyrus asked Magnus.

  “It’s hangin’,” Magnus drawled, his voice raspier than Trey remembered.

  A quick glance at Magnus and Trey saw the man briefly glance over at Cyrus before turning his attention back to Trey, a smirk on his lips.

  “Low and to the right, maybe?” Cyrus chuckled, clearly mistaking the response as an invitation. “Name’s Cyrus. And you would be?”

  He didn’t want to do it, but Trey met Magnus’s gaze, held it for a second before Magnus politely looked over at Cyrus again.

  “Magnus,” he answered. “Magnus Storme.”

  “And how do we know you, Magnus Storme?” Cyrus crooned.

  “He owns Camp K-9,” Brantley answered. “We hired him to train Tesha.”

  “Ah.” Cyrus looked far too interested in the information. “Tesha’s the dog, right?”

  No one answered as they were all beginning to look around, as though trying to figure out how to slip out of this uncomfortable situation unnoticed.

  Even if Cyrus was a nice guy, even if no one usually had a problem with him—aside from Reese—Cyrus had always been the kind who couldn’t take a hint. He was evidently bound and determined to insert himself into this evening, and if that happened, Trey was going to go home early. He didn’t care about counting down to the new year anyway.

  “Tell me about yourself,” Cyrus suggested to Magnus. “I’d like to get to know you better.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Trey couldn’t hide his exasperation. “Is there anyone you won’t fuck?”

  Several things happened at once. Magnus’s gaze, filled with both amusement and heat, shot to him, Brantley snorted a laugh, Reese coughed, and Cyrus … well, Cyrus continued to undress Magnus with his eyes.

  Realizing he sounded like an ass but not willing to apologize for it, Trey excused himself, heading for the bar.

  As he walked away, he forced himself to focus on the floor in front of him rather than look back to ensure Cyrus wasn’t cozying up to Magnus. It wasn’t easy, but for the life of him, he couldn’t say why that was. There was just something about Magnus Storme that fogged his brain.

  Funny, considering just a couple of months ago, Cyrus had been the one fogging his brain.

  And that technically made him an idiot, didn’t it?

  By the time he made it across the crowded room, the urge to look back had caused a buzzing in his head, but still he fought it off, making it up to the bar, waiting his turn. And okay, fine, maybe he did glance back as Rafe was getting him another beer but not on purpose.

  Liar.

  “You’re an idiot,” Trey mumbled to himself, turning away from the temptation he hadn’t expected to be waiting for him when he arrived.

  Trey had absolutely no business wanting that man. None.

  Not that he did
. Want Magnus. Nope. Not him.

  Focusing on the task at hand, Trey waited for Rafe to get his beer.

  Even with his back to the room, Trey could see Magnus in his mind’s eye. Rock fucking solid. Most notably his biceps and his chest. Trey could only imagine what the guy looked like without his shirt on.

  Wait.

  No.

  He was not going to imagine Magnus without a shirt. Hell, he wasn’t going to imagine Magnus at all.

  “Fuck.”

  Thankfully, Rafe didn’t dawdle, passing over his beer and scurrying off to help someone else.

  In an effort to shake off the weirdness that had overcome him the moment he laid eyes on Magnus, Trey headed toward the pool tables in the back.

  He considered joining a game, decided against it. It would be in his best interest to go home early, to avoid waking up tomorrow with another naked man in his bed and a boatload of regret to go along with it.

  “You can’t hide in a place this small, you know that, right?”

  Trey briefly peered over at Brantley, who for some dumb-ass reason had come to join him, then returned his attention to one of the games being played.

  “So the kid’s hangin’ out with y’all now?” he asked his brother.

  “What kid?”

  Trey nodded his head in the direction of the table where the others were still sitting. “I’ve already forgotten his name,” he lied.

  “Magnus. Tesha’s trainer,” Brantley clarified.

  “Sure. That one.”

  Brantley lifted his beer bottle to his lips, grinned. “He’s not a kid.”

  “Looks it. He’s what? All of twenty?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “A baby then.”

  “That kid has been through more than you and me both.”

  Which was saying something considering Brantley had spent the majority of his adult years in the navy, many of them as a SEAL. And now Trey was even more intrigued.

  Damn it.

  “That so?” He hoped it sounded nonchalant and not at all probing.

  Brantley rolled his head on his shoulders, as though working out the kinks. “Don’t give him shit, Trey. He’s a good guy.”