Panty Dropper

by Shawn, Melanie

  “No. I haven’t.” I reported. “Things have been a little crazy this week and I’m trying to play catch up.”

  I’d found out from Mrs. B that I was hired to replace Jennings’s oldest son, who’d been checked into a rehab facility after wrapping his car around a pole—with a blood alcohol level four times the legal limit.

  I was doing my best to get up to speed on all the cases he’d been handling, but it was a lot. Mr. Abernathy was semi-retired and Sterling was being groomed to step into his father’s shoes. Also—not to judge someone I’d never met too harshly—but from what I’d been able to gather, his approach to record keeping was similar to his driving, in that he seemed to do both primarily while drunk off his ass.

  “Right, of course. I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t be. Next week, things should be under much firmer control and I’m going to look into it further at that point.”

  “Thanks.” She stood and brushed her hands off, the crumbs falling into her napkin. “Well, I better get going. I know you have plans.”

  “Oh no, you don’t have to” I rose from the bed. “Why don’t you come with us? To look at places.”

  “No thanks, I don’t want to be the third friend wheel.” Her blue eyes twinkled with mischief.

  “Ha ha,” I chuckled. “Seriously, you should come. It will be fun.”

  And with a chaperone along, I’ll be less likely to hoist and fly my freak flag.

  “Oh, I’m sure you two will have fun.” She smiled airily and gave me a quick hug, then was out the door before I could protest further.

  “Thanks for the—” The door shut. “—donuts and coffee.”

  I sat back down and thought about what she’d said. Why would Abernathy go to her grandparents’ house and then not speak to her? And why had he gone to her graduation ceremonies?

  I picked up the jelly donut that I’d only taken one bite out of so far and took another one. When I did, the gooey filling squirted out the bottom and landed smack dab in my lap.

  “No,” I cried out as I grabbed the two folded napkins that were still clean and tried to gently remove the jelly, crossing my fingers that my swift action would result in there being no trace of my breakfast eating snafu on my denim.

  When I lifted the bright red blob I jotted a mental note to self: Finger crossing does not work.

  There was a wet stain that looked like I’d peed my pants, or worse, had bled through my shorts.

  Shit. That was the last clean item of clothing I have.

  Well, that wasn’t exactly true. I did have one thing I could wear.

  CHAPTER 29

  Billy

  Two sharp knocks on the door to Reagan’s room was all it took for her to yank it open. I was relieved, actually. Mrs. B had banned me from coming to the boarding house years ago after I’d visited not one but two guests in the same evening, then got myself caught when I was on my way to a third.

  The night had ended with the women confronting me, and then each other. That was when it got messy and a catfight ensued. There was name calling, hair pulling, and face scratching—and that was just what was directed at me. I’d left the boarding house with several flesh wounds and lifetime banishment.

  Reagan stood in front of me now, eyes wide and cheeks a little flushed.

  I grinned. “Waiting for me on pins and needles, darlin’?”

  She turned and grabbed her purse. “I appreciate punctuality.”

  I snuck a look behind her into her room before she shut the door. My eyes lighted on the bed. Thinking about laying her out on that floral comforter, her hair spread out over the dusty pink pillows, sent a flash of heat belting through my body. It took every ounce of discipline in me to keep from suggesting that we ditch the house hunting and spend a “friendly” day in that bed, naked and smiling. It was tough. I wasn’t someone who was particularly known for my self-control.

  But this thing with Reagan—it wasn’t about momentary satisfaction. I was in this for the long game, and I needed to treat it as such. She wanted to be friends. Fine. We could start there.

  If I could make Reagan feel safe and settled here in Firefly, then I had a much better chance of spending a hundred days and nights happy between the sheets with her, instead of just the one.

  She shut the door firmly behind her and shrugged her purse strap over her shoulder. “So. Where are you taking me?”

  I looked her up and down. She was wearing a floaty white dress that reminded me of the one Marilyn Monroe had worn in the iconic picture of her standing over the grate. Unlike Ms. Monroe’s, the dress Reagan wore ended at mid-thigh. Her legs looked a mile long and I had a flash of them wrapped around me.

  If we weren’t “just friends” then I would probably give her a whistle and say something like, “Damn girl, you could stop traffic in that dress.” Instead, I went with the more friendly, “I feel underdressed.”

  My words may not have been flirtatious, but my voice was raw and hungry and a blush sprung up on her cheeks in response.

  She ran her hands down the bodice of her dress. “I have to do laundry. It was the only thing I had that was clean. I was wearing shorts, but Cheyenne stopped by and brought donuts, and jelly ended up in my lap. This was the dress I was supposed to wear to my bridal shower. Which was supposed to be last weekend. And which, obviously, I didn’t wear.” She shook her head and let out a short breath. “Anyway, it’s the only thing that I have that’s clean. Ready?”

  Flustered Reagan might just be my favorite Reagan. I wasn’t used to seeing her so unsure of herself, and I had a pretty good guess as to what was causing it. Sexual tension was a real thing and anyone who said different was a liar.

  I moved to the side, further into the corridor, and held out my arm, when a commanding voice echoed down the hallway. “Mr. Comfort!”

  Shit.

  I heard a thwack and looked up to see that Mrs. B was walking straight toward me smacking that rolled up newspaper she always carried against the palm of her hand. “This is private property and I believe I told you that you are not welcome on these premises.”

  The room that Reagan was staying in was a corner unit, and she was still standing in front of the door so she was not in Mrs. B’s sightline.

  I held up my hands in surrender. “I’m just here picking up a friend.”

  “A friend?” she questioned.

  My eyes cut to Reagan, who looked like she was about to bolt back into her room. But instead she stepped into view. “Billy offered to take me to look at properties to rent.”

  Mrs. B looked between the two of us, her eyes narrowing before she pointed the rolled up newspaper toward me and warned Reagan, “You be careful with this one. You’re a nice girl, and he has a silver tongue.”

  She knows all about my tongue.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Reagan nodded.

  “Well now, you kids behave yourselves, ya hear me?” she said pointedly in my direction.

  “Yes, ma’am,” we chorused.

  I felt like we were kids leaving the principal’s office as we left the boarding house. As we walked down the steps, I did my best to keep my hands to myself. I’d placed my hand on her lower back the day before in the bar and she’d seemed fine for a moment, but then she’d tensed up. I didn’t want a repeat of that scenario, so I kept my arms at my sides.

  Until we reached my truck. When I opened the passenger door for her, I did offer my hand, and she took it. She stepped onto the running board and got inside. The movement caused the material of her dress to float up and I got a glimpse of white cotton panties. The flash caused me to instantly be at half-mast.

  Damn. This is going to be a long day, I thought to myself as I made my way to the driver’s seat.

  I hadn’t even shut the driver’s side door before Reagan asked, “So, why did you get banned from the boarding house?”

  Shit. I was trying to do everything in my power to make her forget my nickname and how I’d earned it.

  I didn’t want to l
ie to her, but I also didn’t want to come right out with the truth. “Would ya believe it was because I TP’d it in high school?”

  She smiled. “Would I believe that you TP’d Mrs. B’s in high school? Yes. Would I believe that’s why you’re persona non grata? No. I’m thinking it has more to do with that silver tongue she mentioned.”

  “You would know,” I gave her a wink as I started the engine.

  “You are shameless,” she said, a grin sneaking up on her lips.

  “And proud of it.”

  She took a shaky breath and slapped her hands down against her thighs and changed the subject. “So, where are we headed?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Where you want to go first.”

  “I don’t know what you have planned out, so how can I choose where we go first?”

  “Damn, woman! You didn’t let me finish.”

  She laughed. “Okay. Sorry. I’m just…eager.”

  My dick hardened, pressing against the fly of my jeans at the sound of her voice saying that she was eager. My brain knew she didn’t mean sexually. That didn’t mean my dick did.

  “So, here’s the deal, darlin’. I’ve lined up four places for us to go see today, but one of them is—in my opinion—the standout. Do you want to go see that one first, or save it for last?”

  She bit her bottom lip as she considered her options. Seeing her teeth sink into her soft flesh instantly turned my half chub into a full chub.

  “Hmmm…let’s see. Let’s go with your number one pick first. Because if the place stinks, I’ll get to spend the rest of the day giving you a hard time about your taste level, and that would be really fun for me.”

  I laughed. “First, it is.”

  I turned out of the parking lot of Mrs. B’s and out onto Main Street, then kept driving straight out of town. I was doing my best to get my body under control, hoping like hell that she wouldn’t glance down at my lap before I achieved that control and see who was trying to come out and play.

  “This place is out there a little ways,” I cleared my throat. “You’d have to drive back and forth to town for work every day.”

  “How far?”

  “’Bout five, ten minutes max.”

  She laughed and it sounded like wind chimes in a soft breeze. “That’s how long it took just to get out of the parking garage at my old law firm. I think I can handle a ten minute commute.” She paused for a moment and I could sense she wanted to say something, so I gave her time to gather her thoughts. “How are you doing? I mean, after yesterday?”

  “I’m okay.”

  Today I’d woken up lighter than I had since I got the call from Hank that Pop was gone. I wasn’t sure if it was because there’d been some closure yesterday, or if it was because I’d known I was going to see Reagan. Maybe a little of both.

  “You snuck out last night without saying goodbye.” I hadn’t meant to bring it up, but it had bothered me. After Ray and I won the shuffleboard tournament, I’d searched for Reagan only to find out she’d left. “Even friends say goodbye.”

  “Sorry. You were busy getting crowned. I didn’t want to bother you.”

  She was lying. I could tell. “Right, and Mrs. B banned me for TPing the place.”

  The smile that spread across her face told me that she knew I had her number.

  I looked back at the road and in my peripheral vision, I saw her knee lift up as she shifted in her seat and took a deep breath. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Darlin’, you can ask me anything.”

  She took another breath and I could sense how nervous she was to speak. I wondered, hoped, that maybe she was gettin’ ready to redefine the terms of our relationship. I’d imagined it would take weeks, maybe months, to move out of the friend zone. But if she’d done a one-eighty in twelve hours, then that just meant we were ahead of schedule.

  “How well did Mr. Abernathy know your mother?”

  My fingers gripped the steering wheel and I felt myself gettin’ hot under the collar. Saying his name was like strikin’ a match to my anger, which was doused with gasoline.

  “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.” Reagan waved her hands in front of her.

  “He didn’t know her.” I forced myself to answer because I’d meant what I’d said, she could ask me anything. But that road went two ways. “Why do you ask?”

  “It was just…I don’t know. He had to have been lying when he said that he didn’t know that I was handling your father’s will. He hired me to specialize in family law and arbitration. I don’t know why he would do that. And then there was just something behind his eyes when he was talking about your mother…”

  “Like you said, he’s a liar. He’s also an asshole. He was just tryin’ to get under my skin.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “Nothin’ to apologize for.” I tried my best not to let any of the rage I felt bleed into my tone. It wasn’t her I was mad at, and I didn’t want to take my anger out on her. She’d been the one to calm me down when I was about to do somethin’ that could’ve got me locked up for life, it was natural that she would have questions.

  We continued down the road and I could sense that the energy in the cab was still a little tense, and not in the sexy way. Things had been going so well, I wasn’t going to let that asshole ruin our day. I’d have to be careful where the conversation took us from here on out.

  As I pulled off the road and onto the sloping driveway, Reagan gripped my arm. “Is that it?” she asked, pointing at the small yellow clapboard cottage that sat at the end of the long drive.

  “It is,” I confirmed.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered. “It’s so cute! I love the flower boxes under the windows. Wait…is that a wrap-around porch?”

  “Yep. Sure is.”

  She slapped her hand over her mouth and shook her head back and forth. “This is like my dream house!”

  “I thought you might like it. Now, just to warn you. It needs a little fixing up inside.”

  “Okay. I’m sure the owner and I could come to some sort of agreement on maintenance and repairs.”

  I smirked. “I’m sure you can, darlin’. You’re talkin’ to him.”

  Her forehead scrunched as she turned her head toward me. “You own this place?”

  “Guilty.”

  “But it looks so…”

  Her sentence trailed off, so I jumped in. “Is ‘girly’ the word you’re searching for?”

  A light chuckle filled the cabin. “I probably would’ve said ‘feminine’ but, yes. That’s the general concept I was getting at.”

  “Well, sugar, I never lived in it. I bought it to rent out, use as an Airbnb, or maybe flip.” I’d planned to have it ready for spring break, but with all the stuff with Pop, I was behind schedule. “I’ve still got to do some repairs, but I thought I’d show it to you in case you were interested.”

  She practically bounced in her seat as her eyes glimmered with excitement. “Can we go inside? I can’t wait to see it!”

  “Of course.” I cut the engine and she rushed out before I had a chance to go around and open her door for her.

  She beat me up the steps and when I opened the front door and she sucked in a deep breath. “Oh, Billy. It’s so beautiful.”

  Not as beautiful as you.

  My chest constricted as I watched her look around. I’d bought this house over a year ago but it had never really felt like mine. Until now. Until I saw Reagan in it.

  Her head fell back as she looked at the large wooden beams that spanned the ceiling and the black fan that was in between them. Then she turned her attention to the crown molding and flooring. She bent down and ran her fingers along the seam of the planks. “Are these the original hardwoods?”

  I nodded. “I sanded them down and refinished them.”

  “I love them. Growing up we had awful shag carpet in the trailer. Then when we moved
into Hal’s tenth floor walk-up he had plush berber. My dorms had some sort of indoor/outdoor polyester blend that was supposed to be easy to keep clean, spoiler alert: it wasn’t. And when I moved in with Blaine he insisted on concrete floors with Persian rugs covering every square inch. But I’ve always wanted hardwood so I could do this.” She stood and spun in a circle.

  The skirt of her dress floated around her exposing not only her thighs but also another tantalizing glimpse of the white, cotton panties she wore. This time I didn’t stop at a half-salute. I was standing at full attention.

  “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” I hadn’t meant to say it, but I honestly didn’t think she had a clue. “I’m asking as a friend.”

  She stilled and looked at me. “What?”

  I knew that I was walking into dangerous territory. If I continued down this path, there was a very good chance that it would lead to us doing not-so-friendly things to one another. Which would be great, short term. But what about the long term? I had to keep the end game in mind. I didn’t want her not to trust herself around me. I needed to show her that we could be friends.

  “Never mind, just be careful who you spin around.” I moved my forefinger in a circular motion. “When you twirled I got a nice show.”

  Her hands flew to the material that was lying flat against her thighs. “Did you see my…”

  “Your panties? Yep.”

  “They’re the last clean ones that I have,” she bit her lip as a flush rose on her cheeks. “I have to do laundry.”

  Friends. I told myself as I pictured her laundering her delicates. We are friends.

  CHAPTER 30

  Reagan

  Billy Comfort had just seen my granny panties. I wanted the hardwood floors I’d been so excited about to open up and swallow me whole like the plant in Little Shop of Horrors. I hadn’t been this embarrassed since Jenny Lewis pantsed me in gym class freshman year of high school, and the entire student body had seen that Aunt Flow was visiting thanks to the very large pad I had adhered to my underwear.

  As I stood there, mortified, all the times Blaine had mocked me for having these particular undergarments played in my head. I heard him saying that I should burn them, they belonged in the trash, or they were “boner killers”… he wasn’t the most eloquent of men.