From the moment I laid eyes on that woman, she’d captivated me. There was something so special, so different about her. I’d never reacted to another woman the way I had to her. And it wasn’t just her beauty, although that was other-worldly.
It was her entire being. The way she spoke, moved, smelled. It was the look in her eyes. It was the way she’d mouthed the words as she read the pamphlets she’d taken out of her purse. It was the way she’d twisted her earring when she got nervous. It was the way her cheeks would blush when I’d catch her looking at me. It was the way she was somehow so innocent and yet so sensual at the same time.
It was the way she looked at my dick like it was the first one she’d ever seen in person. The way she’d touched it, studied it—and the way her face had flushed, and how clear it was that it turned her on. It was the tentative way she’d pressed her lips to my crown and then licked me like I was a lollipop.
Fuck, I was getting hard again just thinking about it.
I’d been with my fair share of women, some more experienced than others, but none had ever behaved like she had. She was a contradiction of innocence and seduction.
I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but damn if I didn’t love it.
When I pulled up in front of my childhood home, I still had the feeling like I was gonna walk in and see Pop sitting in his chair, a half-empty bottle of Jack on the floor beside him, the fan blowing on him as he complained about the prices of cigarettes.
Logically, I knew that wasn’t going to happen. Emotionally, I wasn’t so sure I’d accepted it yet.
I took the steps up to the porch two at a time, and out of habit, I turned the doorknob but it didn’t budge.
There’d always been an open-door policy in my family home, meaning the door was always open. But since Pop had passed away and my oldest brother Hank inherited the house, he’d changed the locks and started using the deadbolt. He said it was to keep out “unwanted visitors,” so it made zero sense for it to be locked now, since he had called the damn meeting.
I’d lifted my fist to knock when the door opened.
“You’re late,” Hank stated before turning and walking toward the kitchen.
I checked my phone and sure enough, it was ten past noon. I’d gotten a little distracted by a blue-eyed angel who’d dropped straight out of heaven.
If it had been anyone other than my brothers I was meeting, I would’ve apologized for my tardiness, but as the youngest alpha in the pack, I’d learned that apologies were seen as a sign of weakness.
So instead I took a seat beside Billy on a stool at the kitchen island. I checked to make sure that the earring hadn’t dropped out of my pocket when I did. It was still there. I was gonna guard that baby like it was the Hope Diamond because that’s how valuable it was to me.
It was the only tangible connection I had to Bella… Hell, I didn’t even know the woman’s last name. But chances were, she’d be coming back at some point to claim her earring, and when that happened, she wasn’t going to get away without me finding out some more information about her.
Like her ring size, and if she wants to get married. I had to smile to myself because I was only half-joking. I pressed the earring lower into my pocket.
When I looked up, I saw that both of my brothers were staring at me.
“What?”
“Are you feeling okay?” Billy asked, eyes narrowed.
Better than okay.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You sure?” Hank’s brow twitched. It was the tiniest of movements, but it was about all the emoting my oldest brother had in him.
“What? Why are you guys lookin’ at me like that?”
“You’ve been here almost sixty seconds and haven’t said anything about food.” I looked down at the sandwiches that were lined up on the island.
Damn, I sure hadn’t. That was a first for me. I usually had two modes: thinking about food, or eating. Sometimes, both modes were engaged at the same time.
In fact, screw sometimes. Most of the time. When I was eating breakfast, I was usually thinking about what I’d have for a snack and lunch. When I was eating lunch, I was thinking about what I was going to have for dinner. I was pretty much constantly thinking about the next time I was going to eat.
“What’s wrong?” Billy asked.
“Nothin’. I’m just a little distracted.” I tugged the hoagie toward me and took a bite. Now that I was aware of the food, no reason to let it just sit there.
“Who is she?” Hank, my man-of-few-words eldest brother asked as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
This wasn’t the first time one of my brothers had asked me about women, and usually, I had no qualms about kissing and telling. But today, a cat had my tongue. A cat named Bella.
“You don’t know her.” I stood and grabbed a can of pop from the icebox.
“How do you know that?” Billy reached his hand out, indicating he wanted one as well. Part of being the youngest sibling was waiting on my brothers hand and foot. It didn’t bother me much, in fact I barely noticed it. It was just the way things had always been.
I handed him one and he popped the top and took a swig. When he set it back down, he said, “Maybe she’s come by the bar.”
“She hasn’t,” I stated with one hundred percent certainty.
If she had, I would’ve known. I wasn’t sure how I knew that to be true, but I did, the same way I knew the sky was blue.
Hank nodded at Billy. I recognized the move. It was his silent way of starting the meeting. I also now knew that apparently Billy had called it. I made fun of Hank for how spare he was with his words and gestures, but damn, he sure was able to communicate a lot by doing and saying very little. Hell, maybe I was the one who’d been doing it wrong all these years.
“Don’t we need to wait for Cheyenne?” It may have only been a few months since Cheyenne had been back in our lives, but it didn’t feel the same without our sister. Like it wasn’t really a “family meeting” without the whole family.
“Actually,” Billy sighed. “I wanted to talk to you guys about this before we spoke to Cheyenne about it.”
Billy set a manila envelope with several papers on top of it on the kitchen island.
“What are these?” I asked.
“They’re letters from Mama to Abernathy. Reagan found them when she was checking on a storage facility.”
Reagan was the lawyer who’d handled Pop’s affairs. She’d also been the woman to tame my brother Billy—AKA Panty Dropper. He’d taken one look at her at the will reading and been a goner. At the time, I’d thought it was funny. Hilarious even.
Now, after this morning, I knew it was as serious as a heart attack.
Hank took the papers and scanned them. As the youngest, I was used to finding out information last, but I didn’t feel like waiting.
“What do they say?” I asked.
“Basically, she’s asking Abernathy for more time,” Billy explained.
Hank began to read aloud, “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.”
It was so strange hearing my brother read my mama’s words, especially in his characteristic flat inflection.
“And look at the date.” Billy pointed to the paper.
“Two days before her accident,” Hank stated.
“Cheyenne said that Abernathy came to Connecticut several times. He went to the house, and he showed up at her high school and college graduations.
“From the letters, it’s clear that there is some sort of secret they shared. One that would break up the family.”
“So, you’re saying that…?” I thought I knew what he was getting at, but no way was I going to voice what I was thinking out loud.
Jennings Abernathy was a snake. He and my father had always had a not-so-friendly rivalry, and the man had always been an asshole to me and my brothers. In fact, h
e’d gone out of his way to be a dick in general. It was kind of his life philosophy. I didn’t want to think that he could possibly…
“Jennings might be Cheyenne’s biological father.” Hank’s voice was void of all emotion, as usual, so I couldn’t tell if he was upset or not.
“See why I wanted to talk to you guys first?” Billy shook his head, then raised his hands to rub his temples. “How fucked up is that?!”
The simple answer was: really fucked up. Cheyenne already felt like an outsider since she hadn’t been raised around us. She was just starting to act like she thought she belonged, and now this.
“It might explain why Pop didn’t kick up a fuss when Mom’s parents came and snatched her up, I pointed out.”
Biologically, I knew that they were my grandparents, but I hated calling them that. They’d never given two shits about my brothers and me. All they’d cared about was Cheyenne.
And if she was Abernathy’s daughter, that would make sense. They’d disowned my mom when she ran off with my dad. They couldn’t stand him for how beneath them they thought he was, so it stood to reason that they’d never wanted anything to do with us since we had James Comfort’s blood flowing through our veins.
But if Cheyenne wasn’t his kin, and Abernathy was her father, then she’d be more of a purebred, and less of a mutt like we were. It would explain the preferential treatment.
“We have to tell her,” Hank declared. “I’ll call another meeting tomorrow.”
I knew he was right. We had to tell her. I just hoped he was wrong about Cheyenne’s true paternity.
CHAPTER 4
Isabella
As I parked in front of the boarding house, my body was still tingling. I’d never experimented with any drugs, but I wondered if this was what people felt when they did. Sensations I’d never experienced were flowing through me. My mind was spinning, and I felt as if I was floating or like my head wasn’t quite attached to my body.
I needed to get a handle on that before the surprise reunion I’d planned. I hadn’t seen Mrs. B for eighteen years. I wasn’t permitted to have any social media accounts per my position at Santini Industries, but I did have a private account that I used to follow people. I liked seeing what was going on in their lives, and to be honest, I also lived vicariously through them, at least a little.
One of those people was Mrs. B, which was how I knew that she owned and operated the boarding house that she’d always talked about renovating. I’d never been to Firefly Island, but it was exactly how I’d pictured it from her stories.
As I’d driven through the town that she’d spoken of so fondly to me time and time again, I felt like I was in a Disney movie come to life. At first, I wasn’t sure if it was because I’d built it up so much in my mind as this idyllic paradise, or if it truly was as wonderful as what I was seeing, but the more I saw, the more it looked like the backlot on a movie set.
The island had canals that ran through it with adorable white pedestrian bridges. Lush greenery including massive weeping willows lined the streets, and there was a trolley system with a conductor, complete with hat, white button-up shirt, black bow tie, and red suspenders.
Maybe this place really was magical. Heck, it had already hosted the hottest, most erotic experience in my life, hands down. No pun intended. And now I hoped it would be the setting for the sweetest reunion.
I stepped out of the car and ran my hands down my shirt. It was a little wrinkled, but all in all, no worse for wear. Or the activity I participated in during the wear.
My nerves began to get the best of me as I looked at the boarding house. I’d seen pictures of it when I was a little girl, and then as an adult on social media. But seeing it in person was quite a different experience.
The building was a heritage house that boasted upper and lower balconies and was draped in greenery. There was a rocking chair on the front porch, and I wondered if Mrs. B took her coffee there every morning and tea every evening like she’d told me she dreamed of doing.
As I walked up the steps, I was starting to rethink my decision to make this a surprise reunion. What if Mrs. B didn’t remember me?
What if my memories of our relationship weren’t accurate, or I’d built up our connection in my head?
I had so few happy memories from my childhood, and Mrs. B was in the majority of them. What if seeing her again takes those away from me?
I shook my head. No. I wasn’t going to overthink this. If she turned out to be different than what I remembered, so be it. I wasn’t going to waste another second worrying about what-ifs. Or trying so hard to hang onto what scraps I had that I stopped myself from reaching for something more. Something real.
I pushed the heavy front door open and a bell rang over my head. The lighting was dim when I stepped inside. A large ceiling fan whooshed overhead, and the floorboards creaked as I stepped up to the front reception area. I saw that there was a silver service bell on the counter.
I’d seen them in movies but never actually used one. I rang it and waited.
Nothing happened.
I was pulling out my phone to double check that I had the right spot when I heard a familiar voice from down the hallway.
“I’m coming! I was just doin’ a second coat on my world-famous cinnamon rolls. You’ll thank me later when you taste that little bit of heaven, I promise you.”
My mouth watered at the memory of those cinnamon rolls. We used to make them every Sunday because Mrs. B used to say, “It’s always easier to face the new week when you start it with something sweet.”
When Mrs. B walked into the room, her head was down and she was wiping her hands on the floral apron she wore. I took a moment to take her in. She looked so different, yet somehow exactly the same.
Her fiery red hair was now a muted strawberry blonde threaded with white. Her rounded cheeks drooped a little more than they had twenty years ago. And there were a few more smile lines around her eyes and mouth.
But she still looked exactly like Mrs. Garrett from The Facts of Life. She did seem shorter than I remembered, but then again, I was seven the last time I saw her.
“What can I do ya for?” Mrs. B lifted her head, looking at me for the first time.
I waited for a moment to see if there would be any spark of recognition. I didn’t see one there. For a moment I was disappointed, but then reminded myself that I was only seven years old the last time she saw me. Also, I had no idea how many children she’d cared for during her years as a nanny. Sure, the time I’d spent with her was special to me, but it may have just been a job to her.
“Hi, Mrs. B.” I lifted my hand in a wave. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—”
“Isabella,” she said my name in a whisper. “Is that really you?”
My smile spread from cheek to cheek as joy infused my veins. “Yes. It is.”
She hurriedly shuffled toward me and cupped my cheeks with her hands. As soon as I felt her palms on my face I was overcome with nostalgia. They still felt so soft, and she still smelled of citrus and flowers. I may not have seen Mrs. B since I was seven, but in that moment, the years melted away. In that moment, I was seven again.
“Oh, my sweet girl. What a beauty you grew up to be. Not that I ever had any doubts.” Tears filled her eyes and the back of my throat got tight when I saw that. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.” I left out the part where I’d stopped off at the dock. I didn’t think she really needed to hear that.
“You did?”
I nodded. “I didn’t make a reservation because I wanted to surprise you. I was wondering if I could stay for a few days and catch up.”
“What’s wrong?” Even after all these years, the woman didn’t miss a beat.
She’d always known if something was off with me.
“Nothing.” I did my best to sound convincing. “I just wanted to come and see you.”
She shook her head, and I could tell that she wasn’t buying it.
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“Come on.” She grabbed my hand and patted it. “Let’s get you settled into a room and then you can tell me all about it.”
I hadn’t planned on telling her about the things I’d found out about my mom, or my own condition, or my entire life story since I moved to my father’s home. But that’s exactly what I found myself doing. I told her everything, and she listened. Really listened.
It was the first time in a long time—maybe ever—that I could remember feeling heard and seen.
Well…except for earlier, on the water. When Jimmy had looked at me, he saw me. I could feel it. And that was the most surprising part of the whole encounter.
CHAPTER 5
Jimmy
“Hey Jimmy. Thanks!” Sammy T exclaimed as I dropped the oversized box of paper plates behind the counter and cut it open.
“No worries.”
“Seriously, man, you’re a lifesaver!” He’d already expressed his gratitude several times on the phone, but reiterated now. “P.J. called in sick and the ball and chain is at her Bible study, so her phone is turned off. If you hadn’t come through, I would’ve been shit outta luck. My customers would’ve had to make do with ribs on napkins.”
I glanced out at the line. It was eight deep, full of hungry people waiting for their orders.
“You want me to give you a hand? I can grab an apron.” I’d worked a ton of part-time jobs in high school and during college. One of them was at Sammy T’s Rib Shack on the pier.
“Nah, I got this.” He waved me off. “You’ve got better things to do than hang out slingin’ ribs all night.”
Did I?
When I’d gotten Sammy T’s call, all I’d been doing is hanging out on my back deck shootin’ the shit with Sherlock. And he’d been snorin’ for most of it. I’d been waxing poetic about Bella, and my dog couldn’t have cared less.
I’d actually been excited to have something to do. I’d hopped in my truck, rolled by the storage unit where he kept supplies, and made it down to the pier in less than fifteen minutes. All I had ahead of me was going back to my house and mentally replaying that morning on the boat again and again.
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