I hadn’t spoken to Nadia in years, but without thinking about it, I sent her a message. Within seventy-two hours, after two phone calls and one Skype interview, I was on a plane heading to my new life in Firefly and position as a junior partner at Abernathy & Associates.
Taking a deep breath, I did my best to embrace my fresh start. I looked out the large picture window in the conference room. The spring scene was bright and crisp. The leaves on the trees were rustling as the wind danced through them. A bluebird landed on a wisteria tree branch next to a squirrel who was chomping on a walnut.
Since relocating to the small Georgia coastal community, I felt like Amy Adams’ character in Enchanted, but instead of falling into a well and landing in the big bad city, I’d fallen in a well and landed in a live-action version of a Disney movie.
Firefly Island was an idyllic small southern town complete with a breathtaking coastline and a charming trolley system that served as island transportation, along with a web of picturesque canals and bike paths.
In theory, it sounded perfect. In reality, it was unnerving. Besides my Achilles’ heel of detesting tardiness, my childhood had left me carrying around a suitcase filled with trust issues and aversions to small towns.
It was just one case in the full set of baggage I’d yet to unpack in my twenties. But after my most recent life-altering event I was beginning to think that I might need to start unloading.
A noise interrupted the silent reflection I was floating in.
I turned and saw the eldest Comfort brother return to the room, and he wasn’t alone. I took note of the atmospheric shift as the two men entered. The eldest brother, Henry, looked stoic and unreadable, but the middle and previously missing-in-action brother, William, wore a half-smile on his face that read as self-satisfied.
A flash of anger flared in my gut, but it was immediately extinguished by the burst of frothy-foam lust. William Comfort had trouble written all over him. All three of the brothers were attractive, but there was something different about William.
The trio of Comfort men were all in incredible shape. Henry Comfort was built like an ox and had a physique that rivaled Jason Momoa. James Comfort Jr., the youngest Comfort brother, had a lean athletic build and reminded me of Ryan Gosling in the infamous shirtless “you’re photoshopped” scene in Crazy, Stupid, Love.
William Comfort fell in the middle in more ways than just age. He was framed like Chris Pratt. Not Andy Dwyer in Parks & Rec Chris Pratt. No, this man was Guardians of the Galaxy Chris Pratt.
All three men had strong jaws. Henry’s was covered in a well-trimmed beard. James’ was clean-shaven.
William’s was peppered with sexy stubble that was all sorts of five o’clock sexy. The middle brother also had soulful, brown eyes that were surrounded by thick, dark lashes that, frankly, were wasted on someone with a penis.
He was just so… so toe-curling hot. His features were chiseled, his brown hair was lush and wavy, his arms were muscled, and I could just about see the outline of his six-pack even through his worn T-shirt.
But his drool-worthy appearance wasn’t what was making my body light up like Times Square. I mean, I was a grown woman. I’d laid eyes on handsome men before. What William possessed was an ineffable quality, a vibe that rolled off him when he shot that cocky half-grin around the room. It stopped me in my tracks and made my mouth water. It dampened my panties, and that wasn’t something that happened at a will reading very often. Or ever.
Get it together, Reagan.
I had to remain professional no matter how rude or ridiculously attractive the client was. That was the job.
I cleared my throat and pushed my reading glasses farther up my nose. “All right. We can get started now that we are all here.” My eyes cut to Mr. Cocky as I said the last two words.
He acknowledged the glance with nothing but a wink and smile, causing me to have to clear my throat again so my voice wouldn’t crack. I looked down at the sheaf of papers in my hands.
“The late Mr. Comfort’s estate was fairly straightforward. He left no heirs aside from his children and had no real assets aside from his house and the establishment known as Southern Comfort, a bar of which he was the sole proprietor.”
I lifted the top two sheets to check the third page and then continued, “Mr. Comfort left his home to his eldest child, Henry Comfort.”
“Hank.” Mr. Cocky corrected me with a lopsided grin that turned my insides to mush.
“Hank,” I repeated trying not to allow his charm to undo me. “And I understand this was a prearrangement in exchange for Hank residing at the home and assisting Mr. Comfort the past ten years.”
I paused and looked up to see if anyone had any questions or comments. The brothers nodded, and the youngest, James, said, “That’s right. Hank gets the house.”
I returned my attention to the papers in front of me. “Then the only item left is the disposition of Southern Comfort. Ownership is to be divided equally among Mr. Comfort’s children.”
I looked up again, and Jimmy shook his head, “It can’t be exactly even. There’re three of us. Thirty-three percent each, with one leftover. But Billy should get the extra percent, by all rights. He’s been managing the bar for as long as I can remember.”
The youngest of the Comfort siblings seemed to have no issue with his eldest brother inheriting the family homestead and giving up majority ownership of the bar to his other brother. In the five years I’d been practicing, I’d never experienced a family member willingly relinquish any rights to property or assets.
Maybe it was a Southern thing…
“I agree,” replied Hank.
Another, no less potent grin tugged at William’s full lips as he shifted in his chair. The movement caused his bicep to press against the soft cotton T-shirt sleeve. A shudder went through me as I imagined myself touching that muscular, sculpted bicep. It took me a minute to clear my mind of those breathless images, which was why I was about a minute late in processing the words they were saying.
I’d never experienced insta-lust like this before. Was it possible that I was having some sort of nervous breakdown?
“That’s very generous, but also not possible,” I said, slightly flustered and unprofessionally breathless.
“What do you mean?” Billy asked, and the deep, mellow sound of his voice sent another shudder through me. I had to work hard to refocus.
I consulted the paperwork. “The business is to be divided evenly. Twenty-five percent to each of Mr. Comfort’s four children.”
“What the hell? Four children?” Jimmy chuckled as if it was a joke.
Hank and Billy just sat in silence staring at me with matching blank expressions.
“Yes,” I said, a little taken aback that this relatively simple will reading was going in such an unexpected direction. I read the names from the paperwork. “Henry, William, James Jr., and Cheyenne.”
“Cheyenne? Who the hell is Cheyenne?” Jimmy straightened up in his chair.
Hank sighed. “She’s our sister. You were only two when Mama died and she went to live with our grandparents.”
CHAPTER 3
Billy
I couldn’t believe the words coming out of this lady lawyer’s mouth. This incredibly gorgeous and sexy lady lawyer.
When I walked into the conference room I’d expected to see Abernathy’s pompous ass in this meeting, which was a big part of my need for distraction in the supply closet.
Abernathy had hated Pop and the feeling was mutual. I’d protested having his firm handle the will but Hank’d vetoed my objection. Mainly because this was the only law firm in town.
I’d been primed to come face to face with Asshole, er… Abernathy, so imagine my surprise when I walked in to see a raven-haired, blue-eyed stunner seated at the other end of the conference table, clearly holding court.
There’d been rumors of a newbie arriving at Abernathy, but I’d never in a million years imagined she’d be a young Elizabeth Taylor. My
mama had loved the movie Cleopatra and I’d had a crush on Elizabeth Taylor since before I knew what a crush was.
All those exciting, innocent, and overwhelming feelings came rushing back to me now. I wanted to get to know this lady lawyer, starting with her name and ending with the face she made when I was buried deep inside of her.
But that was gonna have to take a backseat. First, I needed to wrap my mind around the name I hadn’t heard spoken aloud in two decades.
Cheyenne.
My sister.
Shadow.
That was the nickname she’d earned because I’d had a difficult time pronouncing Cheyenne when she was born, and because the girl followed me around everywhere I went.
Memories came flooding back—a small-boned, delicate blonde girl wearing a sundress and sandals, ribbons waving from the end of her braids
In my mind’s eye, I could see the two of us in the yard, me around eight, which would’ve made her five. We were playing with my GI Joes. I was insisting they needed to fight; she wanted to pretend they were a singing group.
Another scene of her falling off of her bike after she tried to keep up with me and my friends popped into my head. Her knee was scraped and bleeding, but she stood up, wiped off the gravel that was stuck in her skin, stood her bike back up and got back on. She didn’t shed a single tear. In fact, she never cried.
Well…almost never.
Another scene came to mind.
My mama’s funeral and the reception back at the house after. All of us bawlin’ our eyes out. Pop, already half in the bottle even though it was well before noon.
A proper-looking older couple with Yankee accents that I didn’t recognize but found out were my mama’s people. My grandparents; that was the first and last day I ever saw them.
Damn, I hadn’t thought about that horrible day since it happened. I must’ve suppressed it, but the scene played out vividly in my mind now.
My grandmother, her face tight with anger, confronts my father. “James, don’t fight me on this. I don’t know why my daughter chose to marry you at all, but I accepted it. Now that she’s gone, I’m taking charge. It’s too late for the boys. They already run around like little heathens, and I don’t see that changing without a good deal of strict home training that I simply don’t have the energy for at this age. However, Cheyenne is a different story. It’s not too late to raise her properly, as a lady. That is precisely what I plan to do.”
“You can’t take my daughter. I don’t know who the hell you think you are.”
I can hear two things in my father’s voice: indifference and slurring. I’m not surprised, just scared. He doesn’t seem to care about much since Mama died. Except for drinking. Now, it seems like he doesn’t even care that much about Shadow getting taken away.
I wrap my arms around her a little tighter as she buries her head against my neck and cries.
The woman reaches under the kitchen table and pulls Cheyenne out of my arms. I yell in protest and try to hold on, but I’m only eight. No match for the strength of an adult.
“James, we are taking Cheyenne home with us to Connecticut today. If you feel you have a chance and can muster up the wherewithal, I welcome you taking us to court. I have no doubt the judge would see things our way.”
Throughout this speech, Cheyenne is reaching for me, crying. I naively think my father is going to stop them. But he doesn’t.
When the woman turns, still holding firmly to Cheyenne’s arm, and marches away, Cheyenne lets out a shrill, piercing scream and tries to scramble out of my grandmother’s arms. I run out from under the table and try to pull her back to me. I scream, “You can’t take Cheyenne! You can’t take Shadow!” but the older man, my grandfather, who’s been silent this whole time, simply picks me up and sets me aside.
And just like that, they’re gone.
I look to my father for help, but he lets his shoulders sag and walks away.
I feel like yelling at the top of my lungs. I feel like punching through a wall. First I lost my mama and now my sister, my shadow. It hurts so much I don’t know what to do, and I think I might just go curl up in a corner and die, like a dog who knows its time is up.
I squeeze my eyes shut as tight as I can. I decide in that moment that nothing and no one is ever gonna hurt me this bad again, because I’m not gonna let ’em. Love sucks. It makes you feel like you got punched in the gut about a thousand times by Hulk Hogan.
I push down my feelings. Push down my memories. They’re too painful. So I forget.
I blinked as the recollection finished playing in my mind, like it was being projected onto a movie screen. I was truly astonished that I really had gone all these years without bringing it to mind, but now it was as clear as if it’d happened yesterday.
A connection zapped into place in my brain, and I suddenly recognized the delicate blonde young woman who’d been sitting in the back of the conference room. I’d noticed her when I’d walked in and assumed she was there to take notes or something, that she worked for the law firm. Honestly, I’d been so captivated by the other woman in the room, I’d barely given the blonde in the corner a second thought.
Until now. I turned to her then, and I saw that she was looking at me, too. Her face was filled with a mixture of hope and fear that made me instinctively want to wrap her up in my arms and protect her. That was when I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, no pun intended, that I was right.
A slow grin spread across my face. “Well, hey there, Shadow.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she gave me a small wave.
Damn. Of all the things I’d expected to get today, my little sister back hadn’t been one of them.
I heard a clearing throat and turned forward, and my eyes lit on the sexy lady lawyer, who was shuffling through her paperwork again.
Hmmmm…now, there’s another unexpected gift.
CHAPTER 4
Reagan
I stood at the head of the conference table, stuffing papers back into the case file as the parties mingled and made small talk.
When I’d walked into this room over an hour ago I’d expected a simple, short proceeding that would fade into memory as soon as I sat down at my desk and started drafting my next brief. What had actually happened was about as far from that as I could imagine.
I’d witnessed a surprise family reunion between long-lost siblings, who even now were chatting warmly with one another. Well, warmly might be an exaggerated description. But they were all being pleasant, if not a little bit reserved and wary.
Except for one. The middle brother. William…no, Billy. That’s what his family had called him.
Apparently none of the Comfort men used their given names. Henry was Hank. James was Jimmy. And William was Billy.
The one that I’d thought was so rude and disrespectful when he’d disappeared without explanation before the reading, and so hot and sexy when he’d finally walked in the room. He alone, out of all of the siblings, looked purely joyful to see his little sister. There was no wariness at all in his eyes.
They drifted toward the door as a group and paused near me to say their goodbyes. I shook hands with Hank and Jimmy as they each took their leave. Then Billy wrapped his arms around Cheyenne and squeezed tight. “You sure you don’t want to come to lunch, Shadow? We got twenty years of catchin’ up to do.”
“Um,” Cheyenne tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “No, I…um…I have some things I need to do.”
“Okay, but I will see you at the bar tonight, right?”
“Yes.” She nodded and I noticed her shoulders relax.
The next thing I knew Billy turned to face me. Seeing this man from across a long table was one thing. Having him mere inches away, with his attention focused on me, was an entirely different proposition.
I put out my hand, struggling to keep it from trembling with all the hormones rushing through me. He grasped it, and it was all I could do to keep from gasping. The sensation of his warm, large, callous
ed fingers enveloping mine had my knees going all wobbly and my head spinning with dizzying desire.
Instead of shaking my hand like his brothers had done, he turned it until it was palm down and lifted it for a gallant kiss. His firm, soft lips pressed to my skin and my entire body exploded with tingling awareness.
I stood, speechless. The slow, easy kiss seemed to last for an eternity. Finally, he straightened and gave me a wink. “Will I see you there, tonight, too, lady lawyer?”
Lady lawyer. Normally, I’d be offended at the female distinction. I was a lawyer, not a lady lawyer. Just like women were bosses, not girl bosses. But somehow coming from Billy Comfort it sounded like audible foreplay. Or at least that’s how my lust-ridden brain was interpreting it.
What was happening to me? It wasn’t like me to be swayed by pretty words, not that they were particularly pretty. If anything, they fell on the side of condescending, but that was not how my body was taking them.
Maybe I actually was having a nervous breakdown triggered by an infusion of arousal.
I cleared my throat and reluctantly tugged my hand out of his. “My name is Reagan. Reagan York.”
“Reagan,” he repeated as his lips curled in the half-grin that I was already looking forward to seeing again. “Sorry, ’bout that, darlin’. I hadn’t caught your name. Will I see I see you there tonight, Reagan? Reagan York.”
I opened my mouth to say, “No, but thank you for the invitation,” and was as shocked as I could be to hear the word, “Maybe,” come out in a breathless sigh.
Maybe?
Okay, now I knew something was wrong. I was decisive. If I didn’t want to do something, I didn’t, and I never made apologies for it. On the flipside, if I wanted to do something, I did it.
And I didn’t want to do this…did I?
“Maybe, huh?” His grin widened and he winked. “I’ll take it.”
There were a million reasons why I shouldn’t go. This was a small town, and Nadia had made it clear that there were unwritten rules and that I needed to be careful, working for Jennings Abernathy.
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