I knew that part of the reason that Hank left and didn’t move back in until I turned eighteen was because of how Pop treated his high school girlfriend.
I’d never come close to feeling what I felt for the woman passed out beside me. If Pop was still alive, I knew he’d have a lot to say about it. The irony wasn’t lost on me that I’d met her at his will reading.
When I pulled up in front of the boarding house, Mrs. B was sitting on her porch in a rocking chair, folding fan in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. As much as I’d have loved to take Reagan back to my place, I had to go back to the bar and I didn’t want her waking up disoriented.
“Evenin’, Mrs. B!” I waved as I got out.
“Billy Comfort! What are you doin’ back here?”
“Just droppin’ my friend off.” I circled the truck and opened the door. After unlatching the seatbelt, I pulled Reagan out. She stirred in my arms and mumbled, “Billy.”
“Yep, it’s me darlin’.” I assured her as I carried her up the steps.
“Billy Comfort. What did you do to that girl?”
“Miss York here consumed not one, but two glasses of moonshine.”
“Oh dear!” Mrs. B’s eyes widened and she opened the front door for me. “Bless her heart, she’s gonna be in a world a hurt tomorrow.”
Once we made it to Reagan’s room, Mrs. B opened the door.
“Thanks.” I said as I entered, Reagan still in my arms. When I saw that Mrs. B was leaving I stopped her. “I have to go back to the bar. Would you be able to check on her later, make sure she’s okay?”
She patted my arm. “I’ll take care of her. Don’t you worry. She’s not the first victim of Rhonda Moore’s Satan juice I’ve had here.”
I nodded. “I’ll check back in with her when I close up. But call me if she needs anything before then.”
A small smile lifted on Mrs. B’s mouth. “Billy Comfort, your mama would be so proud of you,” she said before she left, closing the door behind her.
I wasn’t so sure about that. I didn’t feel like I’d done much to earn my mama’s pride. The fact that the bar was set so low that just me worrying about Reagan was enough for Mrs. B to tell me that she would be proud was all the proof I needed that I was right.
I’d wasted so much of my life not living it. Not feelin’ anything. After Mama died, I hadn’t wanted to feel the loss. When Pop was alive, I hadn’t wanted to feel the anger or resentment for him being the way he was.
I did everything I could to just be numb. But that was going to change. I felt something for Reagan, and for the first time I wasn’t going to ignore it or push it down.
Slowly, I lowered Reagan to her bed, rolling her to her side. “Goodnightbilly,” she mumbled, all of her words running together as she snuggled into her pillow.
“Good night, darlin’.” I kissed her forehead, my lips brushing against her soft skin as I whispered, “I love you.”
It was the first time I’d ever said those words aloud to someone who wasn’t family. I waited for lightning to strike, or a flood to come and wash me away. Hell, some sort of natural disaster to occur caused by my declaration.
When nothing happened, it emboldened me and I spoke the words with more confidence, “I love you, Reagan York.”
She smiled widely as she opened her eyes.
Oh shit! My heart slammed in my chest. It was one thing to risk a natural disaster, it was another to have the person I was declaring my love for to actually hear it.
“I love you, Billy Comfort,” she said before closing her eyes once again.
Unlike the other things she’d said tonight, those five words came out crystal clear. So did the loud snore that followed them.
CHAPTER 34
Reagan
I stared at the brief on the desk in front of me, but I didn’t take in the words. The blocks of text on the paper may as well have been random black scratches against the stark white background for all the sense they made to my brain in that moment.
I wasn’t distracted by the aftereffects of the moonshine I’d drunk on an empty stomach the night before. It wasn’t even the lack of sleep from my fitful night that was pulling my brain in a different direction. Nope. It was five simple words that kept playing in my brain, I love you, Billy Comfort.
This morning when I’d woken up in my bed, fully dressed, I found toast, water, and a mug of coffee. Before I could even sit up, there was a knock at my door and Mrs. B’s head popped in. She’d filled me in that Billy had brought me home after I’d consumed too much moonshine, tucked me in and asked her to check on me.
As soon as she said that, a vivid memory of me looking into Billy’s eyes and telling him I loved him flashed in my head. The scariest and most horrifying part of that recollection was that I was pretty sure I’d meant it.
Then, that memory was joined by less clear visions of other events. They weren’t so much playbacks of things that happened. More like short clips of scenarios. One was of Billy kissing my forehead, my neck, and other more southern regions. Then I was floating in the ocean, and he was with me. In another, we were in a hot air balloon making love.
It all felt so real that I wasn’t sure what had happened and what I’d dreamed. Obviously, I knew that Billy and I hadn’t gone up in a hot air balloon… but had I actually told Billy that I loved him? Or was that just a dream?
If I did tell him that, would he just write it off as the ramblings of a drunken idiot? Or worse, would I accidently say those things again? I didn’t trust myself around him.
I’d never met a man like William Comfort. A man who could set me on fire with the slightest touch, the slightest glance. It was disconcerting, and yet I craved it. I craved him.
Yeah, that was it. That was the exact thing that I just couldn’t wrap my brain around. How could I hate the way my brain lost all control and my inhibitions slipped away around Billy, but also want him so bad? How was that possible?
I knew I should stay away from him. I had zero control over myself when I was around him.
I loved my control. I thought of it as a living thing. Like a pet cat I could care for and fuss over. It was my security blanket, my comfort, my whole reason for being. I cherished it, and I had liked to think that it cherished me right back. But, no. With him, it flew right out the window, the disloyal bitch.
But that was the catch-22. I had to stop seeing him because I couldn’t control my craving when I was around him, but it was that exact craving that I was afraid would pull me straight back into his sexy orbit, like a lemming off a cliff or a moth to a flame. Pick your metaphor, it didn’t matter. It either ended with the poor hapless schmuck it was about, going splat or burning up. Whichever the method, the common denominator was: I was positioned smack dab in the middle of a rock and a hard place. A very hard place.
I shook my head to clear it and tried again to concentrate on the legal brief right there in front of my eyes.
No dice.
I dropped my head into my hands in frustration and grumbled, “Damn you, Billy Comfort,” under my breath.
“You rang, darlin’?”
My head snapped up, my eyes wide and cheeks already reddening. There he was, leaning casually against the doorframe like there was nothing at all strange about him just showing up in my office. Like he belonged there.
What in the hell? Was he like a genie… or Beetlejuice? Had I summoned him with my quiet complaint? Or was this just a particularly humiliating coincidence?
“I…I was just regretting drinking that second glass of sweet tea,” I lied with my head held high. Maintaining my dignity under these circumstances was a big ask—probably too big to be reasonable, I had to admit. However, that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try. “You warned me about the moonshine but I didn’t listen.”
He grinned and my heart did a nosedive into my stomach.
“Thanks for taking me home. Did I…” I knew that I couldn’t come right out and ask him if I’d declared my love for him,
but if I had, I wanted to address it. “Sometimes when I drink I say things that um…well, did I…”
He pushed off from his stance and sauntered across the room as if he had all the time in the world. Hell, he probably did have all the time in the world. He was a bartender. His job started at night.
When he got to the far side of my desk, he leaned forward and placed his hands on the desktop, his palms and fingers spreading out over the papers I had been unsuccessfully trying to read like he owned them. He brought his face close to mine as if he were going to kiss me, and all the air in my lungs pushed out of me in one quick, involuntary exhale.
My eyes widened, and I was paralyzed. If someone had offered me a million dollars to stand up and walk away right then, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to. I wasn’t aware of any of my surroundings except for Billy. His lips coming closer to mine, inch by inch, slowly but surely.
When he was just about a millimeter away, so close that I could feel the heat of his breath on my neck, he stopped and looked right into my eyes. “Snore? Yes.”
“I don’t snore,” I shot back, perhaps a little too defensively. “So I didn’t say or do anything?”
“I put you straight to bed,” he whispered, and I could hear the rough intensity even at that low volume. “Tucked you in and kissed you goodnight.”
That might account for some of the dreams I’d had.
“On the forehead.”
Okay, maybe not.
“Uh…ah…”
That mangled garble was all I was able to spit out. Not a snappy comeback. Not a witty retort. Deborah Kerr had lamented, in that famous line from An Affair to Remember, that all she could say was, “Hello.” Well, let’s see how you feel when all you could say was, “uh…ah,” Deborah.
Billy pulled back, standing straight and tall, sporting a self-satisfied grin. I felt a flicker of annoyance that he was getting the best of me and my damn disloyal self-control again, but that tiny spark was overridden by the raging flames of arousal that sprang up as I noticed the way his plaid shirt stretched over his bulging pecs.
Uh…ah, indeed.
I took a deep breath and stood to try and gain some modicum of control back in this dynamic. My legs were Jell-O but as I leaned my hands on the desk, mirroring what he’d done when he’d crossed the room, a real sense of empowerment rose up within me. Which, since it was the point of the whole exercise, I was happy about.
That was, until Billy looked me up and down, his eyes traveling slowly and deliberately over every curve and crevice of my body, the hungry look on his face making me wonder if he had x-ray vision that allowed him to see underneath the conservative blouse and trousers I wore.
I felt his gaze like a physical touch and my knees trembled so violently that I wondered vaguely, through the lust fog enshrouding my brain, if I was going to be able to stay on my feet or if I was about to fall down ass over tea kettle and embarrass myself even further.
What do you have to say to that, control? Do you plan on showing up, or has Elvis left the building?
Billy hit me with one of his thousand-watt smiles and said, “I just came by to see if you might like to join me for lunch. There’s something I wanna show you.”
A dozen possible answers popped into my head. Any one of them would’ve done the trick. All I had to do was choose one.
I have to work this afternoon. Yep, that had the advantage of being both true and clear. An excellent response.
I have plans with someone else. That would’ve been a good possibility.
No, thank you. Yep. That one was not only clear but only required my mouth to form three small words, which was a definite plus. That would’ve been a fabulous option to choose.
However, when I opened my mouth to give my answer, I heard myself talking as if I were entirely outside my own body. No warning. No filter. No control.
“Okay.”
Great. Apparently the agenda for the afternoon was going to be the abandoning of all my standards and self-control, with a side of turkey sandwich and tomato soup or whatever the hell else we were going to eat for lunch.
“Let me just grab my purse.”
CHAPTER 35
Billy
As my pickup bounced along the country backroad, I found myself stealing glances at Reagan sitting next to me on the bench seat just about every two seconds. With every rut or bump in the road, I worried the ride would be too much for her. When I’d thought about bringing her out here, I hadn’t factored in the terrain after her rough night.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked for the half dozenth time.
“No.” She shook her head, her gaze focused straight ahead. “I’m not.”
I immediately pulled the truck to the side of the road. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“I’m joking!” She chuckled. “I’m fine. Seriously. You don’t have to keep asking me that. If I’m not okay, for any reason, you’ll be the first to know. I promise.”
Her blue eyes sparkled, reflecting the sunlight pouring in through the windshield and leaving me speechless. Well, not speechless, really—I had a lot of things to say; I just knew she wouldn’t want to hear any of them. I wanted to tell her that I was mesmerized by everything about her. I felt the need to vocalize how she had me hypnotized. But she’d been clear that she didn’t want to hear any “pretty words.”
“What?” Her eyes widened as her fingers brushed her cheek. “Do I have something on my face?”
“Yeah. Me.” I leaned over and, just before our mouths touched, she closed her eyes and her breath hitched.
The kiss started off soft and slow. I pulled her bottom lip between mine, sucking on it gently and a moan vibrated through it. I cupped her face, tilting her head to give me better access, and arousal shot through me. As badly as I wanted to deepen the kiss, to taste her tongue, I knew that if I didn’t stop this now things would go too far.
Would it be fun to strip her out of her clothes and take her on the side of the road? Sure.
Was that how I wanted our next time to be? No.
The next time we had sex might not mean anything significant to Reagan, but it held a hell of a lot of significance to me. It would be our third time together. She would be the first person that I would be breaking my two-fuck limit for. I wanted it to be special.
My body screamed in protest as I leaned back, breaking our kiss. Her mouth was swollen and her eyes were glossy. She looked half-dazed and disoriented. I could relate. The chemistry between us was undeniable. Urgency overwhelmed me as we stared into one another’s eyes.
“Can I add one more clause to our friendship contract?” Was I pushing my luck? Possibly. But since I’d never had to hold back what I was feeling, because I’d never really felt before, I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to do it.
Her lips curled as a flash of hesitation lit in her deep blue eyes. “What are you proposing?”
“Pretty words.” I ran my thumb along her jaw.
“Pretty words?” she repeated as her face scrunched, making it clear that had not been the direction she thought this conversation was going.
“What did you think I was going to suggest?”
“I don’t know.” Her shoulders lifted. “Something freaky.”
“What like whips and chains? Butt stuff?”
Her head fell back and she let out a belly laugh as she said, “Yep. That’s exactly what I thought. Whips and chains and butt stuff.”
“Well, we can circle back to that, but I was just going to see if it was okay if I gave you some compliments. Strictly as a friend, mind you. I know you said that you didn’t want any pretty words, but I have some, and I’d like to share ’em.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is this a quid-pro-quo thing where I’m going to have to come up with nice things to say about you?”
“I think it’s only fair.” I couldn’t help but smile.
She cringed and teased, “That might be tough, but I’ll do my best.”
&nb
sp; “Fair enough. That’s all I can ask.” Her blue eyes were staring up at me expectantly. There were so many things I wanted to tell her. That she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. That I couldn’t stop thinking about her. That the atmosphere changed when she walked into a room.
I wanted to wax poetic about her eyes, her hair, her lips, her body. But none of those things came to mind. As I sat staring into Reagan’s eyes, all I could think about were the three words I’d spoken to her the night before. I love you.
Since I didn’t trust myself not to blurt them out if I spoke, I gave her a brief peck before shifting back into my seat and placing my hands on the wheel. I could feel her stare boring into me expectantly. I glanced over as I put the truck in gear. “What?”
Confusion clouded her gaze. She opened her mouth but then closed it, she shook her head, and turned back to face forward. “Nothing.”
I knew what she’d wanted to ask. Why had I asked for the clause but then not followed through with any sentiment? But I couldn’t tell her the real reason, and the silence hanging in the air between us was awkward as hell, so I decided going full-blown smartass was the best course of action.
“I’m just giving you time to bank some compliments for me.” I hoped she didn’t see through me as I slowly pulled onto the road.
“How generous of you.”
“I thought so.”
As we drove down the road she turned to look out the window and I wondered what was going on in that pretty head of hers.
These rolling country backroads were my home. They were in my blood every bit as much as the bar, or my family itself. I was proud of them. They were me, my identity. The fact that she couldn’t stop watching the beautiful countryside as it passed by the truck window with that gorgeous, awestruck expression on her face tightened the string she had me on around her little finger. Seeing her appreciation of the land I loved had me feeling all types of things that I’d never felt before. It had me dreaming of getting on one knee and promising her forever.
Panty Dropper Page 20
