Page 58 of To Have and To Hold
“The information might be nothing,” Holt continued. “But if it’s what I think it is…”
“Meaning?” Brantley prompted.
“I think something big is goin’ on. There are some patterns that just don’t make sense. Not to me, anyway.”
Reese immediately thought about the information they’d uncovered about Decker Bromwell and Alison Bogart. The very information he’d told JJ they had to keep from Brantley until after the wedding. He’d done his best to shove it to the back of his mind, but it was nearly impossible to do. He’d tried to twist it so that it made sense, but he couldn’t. Now, he had to wonder whether this was a piece of the puzzle they were missing.
And if that was the case, the last thing he wanted to do was tug on that string only days before they were to get married. He knew Brantley wouldn’t rest until he figured it out.
“I’ll do whatever I can on my end. I know you’ve got all the connections you need, but I’ve got a few of my own. Plus, I can see the bigger picture sometimes, so please … if I can help in any way…”
Reese nodded, putting his hand on Brantley’s back, urging him forward. “Thanks again. See you at the bachelor party Wednesday night?”
Holt’s expression relaxed. “I’ll be there.”
Chapter Fifteen
Atticus woke up on Monday morning tofind Slade had already left.
What had he expected? The guy to hang around so they could have breakfast? Last night had been awkward enough, so why would today be any different? So they’d had sex a couple of times. Sure, both had been spur-of-the-moment, incredibly hot encounters, but that didn’t mean Slade would want more now that they were back home, trying to create some sort of normalcy while living under the same roof.
And certainly not after what Atticus said.
He still couldn’t believe he’d all but told Slade he was willing to continue what they were doing, but only if Slade was okay with him also seeing Carson. Hell, Atticus wasn’t even sure Carson would give him the time of day now that he was back, and here he was, potentially fucking up something that felt good for something that might not even be a possibility.
Did that make him selfish?
Yeah.
Fuck yeah, it did.
Forcing the thoughts away, he managed to shower and get dressed. He wasn’t rushing into the office because Baz had basically told everyone to take a breather this week. They could still work their pending cases, but they wouldn’t take any new ones until after the wedding. Since Atticus didn’t have any cases of his own, he didn’t see the need to hurry up only to find himself waiting.
It was almost nine when he left the house, locking up with the extra key Slade had left for him on the kitchen island.
As he was turning around to head for his truck, he saw movement across the street. He pulled up short when Carson stepped off his porch. His throat tightened instantly, and all those chaotic emotions he’d felt for that brief time he’d been with Carson came rushing back.
Carson must’ve seen him, too, because he stopped walking, his gaze aimed in Atticus’s direction.
Not sure what to say, Atticus offered a curt wave.
“You’re back,” Carson shouted.
“I’m back,” he confirmed.
When Carson started walking toward him, Atticus paused by his truck.
Play it cool. Be. Cool.
His heart kicked hard in his chest as Carson approached. It had been so long since he’d seen the man. Too long.
He looked just as good as the last time. Tall and lean with a face that belonged on magazine covers, Carson Briggs was a damn fine man. He wasn’t as tall as Slade, nor was he as bulky, but he was muscular in all the right places. Perfectly proportioned to his six-foot frame. But it was his model face that had caught Atticus’s attention the night Carson introduced himself. And perhaps it was the fact Carson had been more than a little tipsy and admitted he’d been watching Atticus for a while. It probably should’ve creeped him out, but there’d been a little bit of self-deprecation in Carson’s tone that had smoothed the way.
“Wow,” Carson whispered, his eyes sweeping over Atticus. “You … uh…”
Atticus waited for him to finish that sentence.
“You look good.”
