Panty Dropper

by Shawn, Melanie

  “Did you show Billy these?”

  “No. That’s not why I went. I went because I could see from the pictures that he wasn’t just a fling. I saw the way you looked at him. And the way he looked at you. But I had to look him in the eye and ask him face to face how he felt about you.”

  Oh, sweet lord. NO! “Why? Why does it matter how he feels?”

  “Because, when you told me to leave earlier, I didn’t. I stayed and listened at the door. I heard you asking Blaine those questions about yourself and I realized that I, your own mother, didn’t know any of those answers.” Her eyes started to fill with tears, but she sniffed them back and squared her shoulders, sitting up straighter. Normally, she really leaned into emotional breakdowns and milked them for all they were worth. So seeing her try and hold one back was new.

  “I wasn’t a good mom. I know that. I remember when I found out I was pregnant, I thought that I would finally have someone in my life that couldn’t leave me. Someone that would love me unconditionally. And you have, despite how horrible I’ve been. But I don’t deserve you. And neither did Blaine.” She took in a shaky breath. “I went for a walk trying to figure out how I could possibly ask you to forgive me for what I’ve put you through, and I ended up at the bar. I needed to make sure that Billy deserved you. And sweetie, he does. I asked him all those things you asked Blaine and he knew the answers. At least, I think he did. He seemed pretty confident.” She smiled as a tear fell down her face. “He knows you, and he loves you.”

  “Mama, he doesn’t love me.” I wasn’t sure what was going on with my mom, if she was having some sort of midlife crisis or something, but the last thing I needed was for her to get the wrong idea about a man that had only been my official boyfriend for less than a day.

  “Yes, he does.”

  “You don’t know that.” I shook my head.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Why, because he knew what my favorite color was?” I wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t have known that if she’d asked him yesterday.

  “No. Because he told me that he does.”

  Even though this seemed to be a new and improved version of my mom, I couldn’t discount the last thirty years. She had a tendency to exaggerate. “He told you that he loves me?”

  “Yes, Fancy. He told me that he loves you.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Did I believe her? Even if I did, maybe he just said that to be nice. She was my mom, after all. It might be difficult to look at someone’s mother and tell them that you don’t love their daughter.

  “But don’t take my word for it.” She sniffed. “He’s waiting outside.”

  “What?” I stood up.

  “He insisted on driving me back. He wanted to see you. I told him I wanted to talk to you, but he said he’d wait. He’s in his truck out front.”

  I took two steps to the door when she grabbed my wrist and stopped me. Tears filled her lids before slipping down her cheeks as she stood. “I know it’s not enough, but I am sorry. I am so sorry.”

  “Mama.” I pulled her into a hug.

  “I love you,” she cried against my shoulder.

  “I love you, too, Mama.”

  After a minute or two she pulled back and wiped her face. “I know I’ve done a shitty job of showing it. Especially these last few weeks. But just so you know, the only reason that I wanted you to marry that douchebag was because I came from nothin’. I brought you into this world with nothin’ and I never wanted you to have to go back to that.” She reached up and cupped my cheek. “But I should’ve seen that you never will, because you can do somethin’ I never learned to do. You can stand on your own two feet. You don’t need a man. You don’t need me. You don’t need anyone.” She lowered her arm. “But, if you decide you want to be with someone, that Billy sure is easy on the eyes.” She smiled widely and waggled her brows.

  I chuckled. “I love you, Mama. I really do.”

  When I opened the door my mom stopped me again. “Oh and Fancy, Billy said that the time you wake up every morning is at five twelve.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded.

  “You know that’s the exact time Hal died, don’t you?”

  “What?” I stared at her. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. It’s on the message the hospice nurse left me. I saved it on my phone. I don’t know why I did that. I kept playing it over and over because I couldn’t believe he was really gone.” She got choked up again. “I loved him so much.”

  I gave her another hug feeling myself starting to tear up. “So did I, Mama.”

  “I know.” She took in a sharp breath and stepped out of my embrace. “And he loved you, too. You were his girl. And I think he’d love Billy, too. So go get your man. If you want to. No more pressure.” She held up her hands in mock-surrender.

  As I walked out into the hallway, I filed the information I’d just been given away to revisit later. Today had been an emotional roller coaster, and processing that I’d been waking up every day at the exact time Hal passed was too much to add to it.

  My heart raced as I turned the doorknob and stepped out on the porch. I wasn’t sure why Billy was waiting to see me. I’d left his house in such a rush earlier. Then my mama showed up and asked him random questions, including if he loved me or not.

  When I saw him, at the end of the walkway my breath caught in my throat. Billy was standing leaned up against his truck, one leg crossed over the other, looking sexier than should be legal. I felt like I was having my very own Harry Connick Jr. end of Hope Floats moment, when he was waiting for Sandra Bullock outside Snappy Snaps.

  “Hi.” I lifted my hand awkwardly as I approached him. “I’m so sorry about—”

  My apology was cutoff when he took two long steps toward me, threaded his fingers through my hair, and kissed me. My lips automatically parted and his tongue swept inside my mouth. Any nervousness or anxiety I’d been feeling evaporated with the heat of the soul-binding kiss.

  Slowly, we broke our kiss and I stared up at him feeling dizzy and lightheaded from the endorphins that had just been released in my system.

  His brows knitted together as he ran his thumb along my jawline. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”

  “For what?” If he was breaking up with me then this was a weird way to do it.

  “I told your mama some things tonight that weren’t mine to tell.”

  “Like what?” I couldn’t imagine what he might’ve said.

  “She asked me what the worst day of your life was.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t ever told her about that day, but it wasn’t like it was a secret. She just never asked. “It’s okay.”

  “No it’s not. I shouldn’t have done that. You trusted me and I’m going to do everything I can to earn that trust again.”

  “Really, Billy. It’s fine. It’s not like you put it on Facebook. She’s my mother. And I never told you not to tell anyone.”

  He took a deep breath, looking a little relieved. Not completely, but he looked like it had gone from a ten to a five on the worry scale. “There’s one more thing.”

  “What?”

  “I told her something that I should’ve told you first.”

  “What?”

  “I told her that I love you.”

  Hearing my mom say it and hearing Billy say it were two very different experiences. This version had tingles spreading throughout my body and my heart racing a mile a minute. I tried to hide my reaction as I casually said, “Yeah, she told me.”

  “What do you think about that?”

  “That depends,” I said breathlessly.

  “On what?” The concern was back up to ten.

  “On whether or not you were telling the truth.”

  “You know I promised I’d never lie to you.”

  “Yes, you did, but you never promised not to lie to my mother.”

  His lips curled at the edges. “I was telling the truth. I love you.”

  “Okay. Well in that case, following yo
ur lead, I guess I should probably call Hank and tell him that I’m pretty sure I love you, too.” I smiled, loving the feeling of saying those words and actually meaning them. Blaine was the only other man I’d ever said that to, and I knew now that I hadn’t meant it. Not one bit.

  “You said pretty sure. How sure are you?” His lips lifted up into that sexy half-grin that caused the deep dimple in his left cheek to appear.

  “Hmm, I don’t know.” I scrunched my nose. “I think you might need you to kiss me again so I can make up my mind.”

  He lowered his head as I lifted up on my tippy toes and our mouths met in a slow, ravishing kiss. Every cell in my body sang as I explored the velvety warmth of his mouth. His masterful tongue slid across mine causing fireworks to explode in other parts of my body that he’d licked and suckled. My nipples hardened rubbing against the lace of my bra as he pulled me even tighter against him.

  Slowly, methodically, he broke our kiss, resting his forehead against mine, as his labored breaths fanned across my face.

  “Well, what’s the verdict?”

  “I love you, Billy Comfort.”

  He cut my words off, claiming my mouth once again.

  As I stood under the starry sky, being held in the arms of the only man who had ever felt like home, I realized that today might not be my wedding day, like I’d thought it was going to be. But it was the day I truly found my person. The person that I knew, no matter what happened, I’d love for the rest of my life.

  EPILOGUE

  Billy

  TWO MONTHS LATER

  I sat on the back porch of the house that Reagan and I had lived in for the past two months, holding my mama’s wedding ring in my hand.

  Cheyenne was staying at my place by the water, and Reagan and I had moved into the house she had planned to start renting from me on the very day that she was supposed to have been walking down the aisle with another man.

  I liked to tease her that she was only with me to get out of paying rent.

  “Are you sure about this?” I asked my brother Hank.

  “Pop said he wanted it to go to whichever one of us took the plunge first.”

  “Yeah, but I think you should check with Jimmy and Cheyenne to make sure that they don’t want it.”

  “I did. They don’t. Any news on the case?”

  Like I’d suspected, the police report we’d been given was incomplete. We’d gone back and forth with the police chief. Reagan had even gone as far as to file several petitions and injunctions, but everything was moving at a snail’s pace.

  “Nope. Nothing new.”

  Hank’s only response was a muffled grunt, which in Hank-talk translated to him being frustrated with the lack of progress, before he abruptly stood and left.

  “Good talk, bro.” I waved to his retreating back.

  Since our heart-to-heart at the bar, things had gone back to normal between Hank and I. No more hugs or talk of the curse. He’d accepted that Reagan was in my life and was happy for me. I knew that because he almost smiled whenever he saw us together or I talked about her.

  I tilted the ring in my fingers. The sunlight hit the stone at the center and it sparkled white, while the outer circle of smaller stones was a kaleidoscope of rainbow colors. It was a two-carat princess cut diamond set in platinum gold. It had been in the Comfort family for generations, handed down from my great-great grandmother.

  I’d been asking Reagan to marry me every night for the past four weeks. The first time I asked her was on our one-month anniversary. We were lying in bed about to fall asleep, and I realized I didn’t want to spend another day without her being my wife. So I asked her to marry me. She hadn’t said no. She’d just smiled and said it was too soon.

  So, every night since, I’d asked again. And every night, she told me it was too soon. But one night, her answer would change and when it did, I’d be ready.

  When I heard the screen door sliding open I looked over expecting it to be Hank.

  “No take ba—” I stopped speaking when I saw Reagan step out onto the porch. I stood and closed my fist around the ring, hoping she didn’t catch a glimpse of it. “What are you doing home?”

  She was supposed to be in court all day.

  “The judge recessed early,” she said distractedly as she set the leather tote she carried files to and from work in on the small round table between our Adirondack chairs. I saw that she was out of breath and looked like she’d seen a ghost. I’d been so worried about her seeing the ring; I hadn’t noticed it at first.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She began pulling out files. “Do you remember I told you that Abernathy came into my office the afternoon after we went to the police station for the first time?”

  “When he threatened you,” I replied darkly. I’d wanted to kick his ass so badly, but Reagan talked me down, saying that she needed to keep her job.

  “I keep telling you, he didn’t threaten me,” she argued. “Not directly. He was just trying to intimidate me. Anyway, that’s not the point. You know Stella, our new receptionist?”

  “Yes.” Daisy had been let go for—surprise surprise—getting caught engaging in inappropriate relations with a client in the supply closet.

  “Well, the other day she came in my office and handed me a key to a storage unit that the law firm has. She said that she’d been told it was where we kept archived files. Apparently, there’d been some water damage due to an electrical fire in the building. She asked me if I could go see how bad it was because she’s claustrophobic and hates going into those places.”

  “At least you know you won’t find her in the supply closet.”

  Reagan’s eyes narrowed and she tilted her head.

  “Too soon?” I asked, with the grin that never failed to put a smile on my girl’s face.

  It didn’t let me down. Her lips curled in a reluctant half-smile as she shook her head. “Anyway, the storage facility is right by the courthouse so I figured I’d pop in while I was over there. The damage was in the back so they’d moved a bunch of the boxes to the front and some had fallen over. This was in a box labeled C.”

  She handed me a manila envelope that had the word CONFIDENTIAL scribbled in black marker on it. I opened it and took out what looked to be hand written letters.

  “None of them are signed, but there was something so familiar about them…and then I realized why.” She pulled out one of my mom’s journals and opened it.

  The handwriting was identical. Chills rose on my arms.

  “And look, look at the date on this one.” She touched the top right corner.

  It was two days before my mother died.

  I didn’t read the entire thing but scanned the page. “Please, don’t do this. I just need more time. I’m begging you. If you really love me the way you say you do, you’ll leave me and my family alone. Please, Jennings.” I looked up at her. “Jennings? Is he the he from her journals?”

  Reagan and I had gone through and read all of my mom’s journals. Most of it was hippie-dippie stuff, and there was a lot about us and how tough it was being a mom of four. But the six months leading up to her death there were more and more mentions of “him” and “he”. She talked about how scared she was of him. How he was going to ruin her life.

  “I mean, I can’t say for sure, but that’s definitely what it seems like. And remember how I told you that Cheyenne said he’d been to your grandparents’ house when she was little, and that he was at her high school and college graduations? Do you think…?”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.” She shook her head.

  “No, what were you going to say?”

  “It’s just. Jennings and your mom obviously had a secret. A secret that would ruin your family, most of all Cheyenne. And remember how he was talking about your mom after your dad’s funeral. I don’t even want to say this but what if—”

  “They had an affair and Jennings Abernathy is Cheyenne’s real father.” I finished.

 
; “I’m so sorry.” Reagan wrapped her arms around me and held me tightly.

  I held on to her tightly, letting the feel of her anchor me. My mind spun as I tried to figure out what I was going to do with this information. If that were true, it would mean that my sister was really my half-sister. And even worse, that she was half Jennings Fucking Abernathy.

  The End

  Coming Soon

  Don’t miss the youngest Comfort brother’s book

  Sex On The Beach

  Coming March 2020

  A Note From Melanie Shawn

  Hello! *waves aggressively*

  Melanie and I (yep, that’s not a typo, there are two of us, and…wait for it…we’re sisters!) wanted to thank you for visiting Firefly Island. This series is really special to us, and we can’t wait to bring you the rest of the Comfort siblings HEA’s in Sex on the Beach (Jimmy’s story), Between the Sheets (Hank’s story), and last but certainly not least…drumroll…Afternoon Delight (Cheyenne’s story).

  Besides writing, binging TV shows on all the streaming services (we do not discriminate), and hanging out with our fur-babies, we also LOVE getting to know our readers! So if you ever want to virtually hang out with us make sure to follow us on our Facebook page. I mean no pressure, but we’re really cool…soooo. Okay, full disclosure, Melanie is WAY cooler than me (for example, she would never write that we were cool), BUT I am way nicer so, I feel like it’s a nice balance.

  If that didn’t scare you off from wanting to be our virtual besties, hee hee, then be sure to join our reader group: Club HEA with Melanie Shawn That’s where the really fun stuff goes down. We do live-streams (or at least we plan to, and isn’t it the thought that counts? lol), we post about all things books related as well as life, fitness (or lack thereof), kiddos, friendships, love, food, the daily grind, wine and other adult beverages, and encourage all of our Club HEA members to do the same!

  But back to why you’re here in the first place, we truly do hope you enjoyed Billy and Reagan’s story and if you’d like to listen the soundtrack of their happily-ever-after, check out their playlist below.