Half the time Blaine talked, I let what he said go in one ear and out the other. Until I saw him back it up with actions, it was meaningless to me.
But Billy was different. His words were different. His words meant something to me.
“We can start with you telling me why you’ve been avoiding me all week.”
“So we’re not easing into this, then?” I smiled as I stretched my arms in front of me.
“You are so damn adorable.”
There he went again, with those pretty words. My belly fluttered with delight. I took a deep breath, and considered telling him that I had just been busy. But decided that if we were really going to do this, I didn’t want to start it off with anything but honesty and transparency.
“I heard something about you that didn’t sit well with me.”
“You can’t believe everything you hear. People love to talk around here, and half the time they’re doin’ it out their ass.”
“I agree, but I’m pretty sure that this was not one of those times.”
“What did you hear?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I wasn’t being coy, it truly didn’t matter to me. Anything that happened before we met, even if it was minutes before, didn’t matter to me.
“If it doesn’t matter, then why don’t you want to tell me?”
Maybe he should be the lawyer. “Fine. I heard that you hooked up with Daisy the morning of the will reading. It bothered me because we had sex later that night. But, it doesn’t matter—”
“Are you talking about the receptionist?”
“You don’t even know her name?” I felt my eyes widen.
“No. Not really. But we didn’t hook up.”
“You don’t have to lie to me—”
“I’m not lying. I won’t ever lie to you.” The conviction in his statement was palpable.
It made me want to defend why I’d believed the rumor. “Okay, well, I just thought because you disappeared right before the will reading, and Daisy wasn’t at her desk. When Nadia said that she heard you two hooked up in the supply closet—”
“Well, we were in the supply closet.”
“So you did hookup?”
“No. She was about to give me a blowjob and Hank interrupted us.”
“Oh.” I was stunned at his admission. It took me a minute to process what he’d said.
They hadn’t had sex but he was more than happy to receive oral sex from someone whose name he didn’t even know. He could’ve just said that they didn’t have sex and left it at that, but he’d explained the situation in graphic detail, and I appreciated having all the facts.
“Thank you for your honesty. It’s oddly refreshing.”
“Back atcha. A lot of women, and men, I know would have sat on that, and then it would have come out later in a fight.”
He wasn’t wrong. I knew many couples that would fit that bill.
“Now that we got that cleared up, let’s get back to you.” He snuggled closer to me. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Yellow. What’s yours?”
“Green,” he replied. After a pause the corners of his eyes scrunched. “Yellow, huh?”
“Were you expecting me to say pink?” I hated that gender stereotype. I had no idea why the genitalia I was born with was supposed to predispose me to liking a certain color. It was a little irritating that Billy would think that way.
“Or blue, or green, or even black.” He said. “I’ve just never met anyone whose favorite color is yellow.”
“Oh, okay.” I smiled, happy to have been proven wrong. “Actually, it’s not my favorite because of the color itself. It’s my favorite because it was Hal’s favorite.”
“Your stepdad?”
“Yeah.”
“So you two got along?”
I could feel my eyes watering, the way they always did whenever I talked about Hal. “He was the best. He saved me and my mom.”
As we lay in bed I told Billy what an incredible man Hal was. I opened up to him about the struggles in my childhood before Hal came into my life at age eight. He talked about how different his life was before and after he lost his mom at the same age. It was like our lives were in reverse. His life was happy and carefree before the age of eight. Mine was that way after.
It might be just a coincidence, but it felt like more than that.
Far too soon, the sun began rising. Even though it was the last thing I wanted to do, I knew the magical time we’d shared had to end. “We better get going if we’re gonna make it to the police station before I have to be at work.” I sighed and started to get up.
He held me in place and I turned toward him.
“Thank you,” he said in earnest.
“For what?”
“For telling me about your childhood, about your mom, about Hal. I might be wrong, but I don’t think you open up to people that often.”
“I never open up to people.” I let out a nervous laugh. I’d told Billy things I’d never told another soul.
“I’m honored.” He ran his thumb along my jawline. “And I promise to work every day to be the kind of man that Hal would’ve been happy and proud to see by your side.”
With that declaration, he kissed me on the forehead and hopped out of bed. I lay there in stunned silence for several seconds. There were so many things he could’ve said. How did he know the ones that would hit a bull’s-eye when it came to what really mattered to me? All I’d ever wanted was for Hal to be happy and proud of me and the life I chose. And that included my partner.
One of the things that had always bothered me about Blaine was that I knew Hal wouldn’t have approved of him. How did Billy know that him saying that would mean more to me than a thousand I love yous, or a million promises of happily ever afters?
I had no idea, but I was done trying to make sense of it. From here on out, I was just going to enjoy the ride with Billy.
“Showers warmed!” He called out. “Get your cute ass in here.”
They weren’t pretty words, but they were perfect words.
CHAPTER 47
Billy
Walking through the doors of Firefly’s small police station without cuffs on was a welcome change of pace. I’d never been picked up for anything serious. Joyriding when I was a teenager, drunk and disorderly after graduation. Things of that nature. I’d cleaned up my act after I’d taken over operations at the bar, but stepping foot into this building again was bringing back memories of my misspent youth.
“Well, hello, there, Billy Comfort. I swear, if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes.”
I turned my head toward the silky purr. Well, damn, speaking of blasts from the past…
Sitting at the reception desk, wearing a red blouse as tight and low-cut as the one she’d worn the night I brought her home, was…Sharon? Cheryl?
Dang it. This was exactly why I’d always employed the darlin’-baby-honey rule. Names run together. Endearments never fail.
Until I’d met Reagan. I turned to look at her and noticed the only tell that she had any reaction at all to the woman behind the counter was that her lips were slightly pursed the way they’d been yesterday morning up at Harlan’s place when I was sandwiched between two very friendly women. I’d never been a fan of jealousy, but I had to admit, seeing Reagan affected by other females’ attention toward me was kind of adorable. Then again, everything Reagan did was adorable.
I turned back to Sharon…Cheryl…Shannon…Shasta? Could it be Shasta? …and said, “Thanks, good to see you. I was hopin’ maybe you could help us out.”
She leaned forward, showing off what her mama gave her and her shirt was accentuating. “Anything for you, Billy Comfort. Anything.”
The tone she used when whisper-talking those words, not to mention the wink she topped them off with, made it really clear what it was she meant by anything. Hell, not that the words themselves left all that much to the imagination.
I slid an arm around Reagan’s waist. I wanted to
make it abundantly clear that I was not on the menu. “Thanks. I’d like to get a copy of the police report from my mama’s accident.”
The blonde sat back, her hawk-like gaze traveling back and forth between me and Reagan until she finally rolled her eyes. “Full name and date of the incident.”
I gave her the information and she began to type on the computer. Her face looked more put out than anything else as her acrylic nails tapped on the keys. But after a few keystrokes, a crease appeared between her brows and she stared at the screen, bewildered. She moved her mouse, clicking on something else before typing once again.
“Um. I…don’t have access to it.” She stood. “You’re gonna have to talk to the chief.”
She strode off out of sight down the hall, and Reagan looked up at me. “This is a pretty straightforward request. Strange that it needed to go through the chief.”
“Agreed.”
She grinned. “We may have been more successful if you’d just walked in here alone and used your considerable charm.”
I knew she was joking around, but something about the thought of it actually made me uneasy. I didn’t like the idea of flirting or “using my charms” on anybody but Reagan.
Chief Dawson walked out, then. Or more like sauntered out, a smirk planted firmly on his extremely punchable face.
He’d been a condescending jackass when we’d had run-ins in the past. Of course, I’d been a teenage punk…but it looked like only one of us had moved on from our past personas.
“Well, well. I knew I’d see you walk back through my doors one day, Comfort. I just never thought it’d be under your own steam.”
I forced myself to smile, even though my teeth were gritted together so hard I thought my jaw might just snap. Still, I didn’t need to make Dawson my enemy. Not over some stupid petty shit like his fucking terrible personality.
Eye on the prize. Remember why you’re here. This is about Mama. Not you.
All good advice, delivered to me straight from the rational part of my brain. Also, of course, all of it was easier said than done…but I was determined.
“Good to see you, too, Chief. How’s the family?”
“Real good. Real, real good. I was real sorry to hear ’bout your daddy. James Comfort and I may not’ve always seen eye to eye, but he was a real fine man, come down to it. Sorry I couldn’t make the service, but I heard the reception was…colorful.”
I stiffened. My father’s death was still a raw subject with me, and hearing his name in Dawson’s mouth made my gut churn with rage. Still, I was here for a purpose and wouldn’t let myself get derailed. “Thank you.”
Dawson crossed the room to me, taking his time. When he reached me, he put a paternal hand on my shoulder, twisting his face into a mask of fake concern. “Now, son, Sharla here tells me you’re asking about your mama’s accident.”
Sharla! Right. I was close.
“I am.”
“Now, what do you want to go digging up the past for, Billy? You know what they say about sleeping dogs, don’t you? You should let them lie.”
All of the anger that I’d been holding at bay rushed through me. I took a step toward him. “So in this scenario, my mama’s a dog?”
“Now, son, listen here—”
“He’s not your son.”
My head snapped around, surprised at Reagan’s voice, smoothly cutting the chief off in the middle of his sentence.
When I glanced back to see his reaction to the interruption I saw his bushy eyebrows shooting up so fast I thought they might just fly right off his face. When he spoke, his molasses drawl was even thicker than normal, a sure sign he was pissed off. “What did you just say to me?”
“That he’s not your son. He’s a citizen. Requesting information that is part of the public record. This is not a discussion. It’s a requisition.” She smiled sweetly. “Now, are there any copying fees that need to be paid?”
His eyes flashed and for the first time since I’d known him, I saw how he could be intimidating. “Excuse me, ma’am?”
His voice had lowered, becoming almost threatening, but when Reagan answered him, hers was still smooth as silk. “No, I don’t think I will, actually. Now, are you going to help? Or are we going to go in front of a judge?”
They stood there in silence for a long moment. I marveled at the showdown. Dawson’s face and body language made him an open book. It was like a thundercloud was steadily forming around him, getting closer and closer to bursting with every passing second. His eyes narrowed, his face reddened. The vein in his neck bulged.
Reagan, on the other hand, just stood still, the expression on her face pleasantly passive, waiting for his response.
He was showboating with a display of so-called strength, and she was standing back and doing what looked like nothing, but it was clear as day who had the upper hand. He was losing control and she had an iron grip on it.
It was sexy as hell, truth be told.
Finally, Dawson spun on his heels and stormed back down the hall, calling back over his shoulder, “Sharla, make them a copy of the damn file.”
Just as he was about to disappear from sight, he turned and served Reagan with a simmering glare.
Reagan smiled brightly at him and waved which only served to piss him off even more.
Not able to help myself, I planted a kiss on her forehead. “You’re really hot when you’re talkin’ in legalese.”
She grinned up at me. “If you thought that was hot, you should see me in court.”
Damn. My jeans got a little bit tighter at the thought.
Sharla came back out and handed me a legal-sized envelope, refusing to meet my eye. I took it, held it in my hand. I didn’t know what I expected to feel when my fingers touched the paper. A bolt of lightning, maybe. But it just felt like paper.
This was all new territory to me. Every step was a step into the unknown, and it seemed like almost nothing felt like I imagined it would.
I placed my hand on Reagan’s back as we walked out into the fragrant spring air. With her by my side, all of this was a lot easier to deal with. In fact, I didn’t know what the hell I’d do without her.
CHAPTER 48
Reagan
“Hello, Miss York.”
A deep, booming voice filled my office and I nearly jumped right out of my skin.
“Mr. Abernathy!” I exclaimed when I lifted my head and saw him standing there. The surprise was not only from him appearing out of nowhere, it was also that he was here at all. Since I’d been hired, this was the first time I’d seen him in the office. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I can see that,” he said in his usual fake-hearty way.
He stepped up to my desk and began picking up papers randomly. Then, he rounded the desk to where I sat, leaned back against it and crossed his arms. I had to recline back in my chair so that I wouldn’t have to bend my neck to look up at him. It was a power move on his part. He was staking claim to my personal space. The invasion was his way of owning the room. His body language had a very clear message: This is my house. You are a guest here. Don’t forget that.
That was all conveyed silently, of course.
When he actually spoke he said, “I just wanted to stop by and check-in on ya. I hear you’ve been quite the busy bee lately.”
Was he talking about my work here, or was this about me seeing Billy? I had no idea.
I plastered a benign smile on my face at his strange, vague comment. “As I’m sure you know, my caseload is intense. But I thrive having a lot on my plate. As my stepfather used to say, ‘I’m blessed with work.’ And, honestly, it’s nice to know it hasn’t gone unnoticed. Thank you for that.”
“I’m not talking about your work here, Miss York.”
“What are you talking about, Mr. Abernathy?” If he wanted to discuss my private life he was going to have to come right out and ask me.
He narrowed his eyes a little and tilted his head to the side.
We were
playing a chess game. It was common practice among lawyers. I knew it and so did he. The key to winning was not to move before you had a good idea what your opponent’s next move was going to be. I’d found the easiest way to do that, was just to keep an innocent, open look on my face and wait. Which is what I did.
Finally, he leaned forward, putting a faux-paternal “concerned” expression on his face. “You know, Miss York, Firefly is a small town. I understand that you’re used to the big city, but let me give you a piece of advice. People round here don’t like outsiders coming in poking their nose where it doesn’t belong. We like to live in the present and focus on the future. The past is behind us for a reason. Sometimes it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie.”
Sleeping dogs lie? That’s the same thing Chief Dawson had said to Billy this morning at the police station. Suddenly, this impromptu check-in made perfect sense. This had nothing to do with my work or seeing Billy. Abernathy had heard about me going to the police station and he didn’t like it.
The question was why?
Was he warning me as a favor to the chief?
Or was this more personal for him? Was he worried about me finding something that would incriminate him or someone close to him?
“My granddaddy started this firm sixty years ago. It’s a family business, and everyone that works here is part of that family, whether you’re blood or not. Once you walk through those doors, you’re one of us.”
I wasn’t sure if he was describing Olive Garden or the mob.
“I know that you didn’t have much in the way of family growing up. It must’ve been hard, just you and your mama for so long. I don’t think I’m talking out of school when I say your mama wasn’t exactly June Cleaver.”
I could feel my eye twitch at the mention of my mother, but I hoped it wasn’t noticeable. Abernathy was doing his best to push my buttons, and the last thing I wanted was for him to know it was working.
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