was because I was waiting for Reagan to walk through the door, and every time it opened I thought it might be her.
For several hours I’d been disappointed. But then, like a lightning bolt, my wait was over. The door opened and there she was, her long dark hair framed like a halo by the street light right outside the door.
She wasn’t wearing her designer suit now, and her hair wasn’t in that sexy librarian bun it had been tied up in this morning. But even in a pair of jeans that showed off every womanly curve and her curls falling in soft waves over her shoulders, she stood out like a glamorous, classy beacon. She was a real life Uptown Girl.
“Damn,” I muttered under my breath.
As I looked at that woman, I saw more than just a hot piece of ass or even more rom-com inspired scenes. I saw wedding bells and the porch swing when we were old and gray. I saw my future.
There was a very good chance I was losing my mind from all the changes that’d been going on, because that definitely wasn’t like me.
Reagan spotted me staring at her and gave a little wave and an even littler smile. Hmmm. That wasn’t the kind of reaction I normally got from women. If I was going to make progress with the lady lawyer, I was clearly going to have to work a little harder.
She weaved through the crowded room, and I saw for the first time that Cheyenne was trailing behind her.
When the duo made their way to the bar, my face split into a wide grin as I greeted them. “Hey, there! If it ain’t the two prettiest ladies east of the Mississippi.”
Without even meaning to I slipped deeper into my accent. It wasn’t something I did intentionally; it was a flirting tick. Even women from my neck of the woods who’d heard that Georgia drawl all their lives seemed to find it charming when paired with the one-two punch of the smile. And Yankee girls? Forget about it.
But it didn’t seem to be having the same effect on the lady lawyer. All I was getting from her was a tight smile. I was gonna have to up my game.
“Hey, Billy.” I turned at the small, shy voice coming from my little sister. I barely heard it over the music from the jukebox and people talking and laughing.
Little sister. That phrase sounded foreign, even in my own mind. Yeah. Strange. I’d been so tight with her when we were kids, and I’d missed her so much when our grandparents had taken her to live with them, that I’d pushed down all my feelings and forced myself not to think about her at all. Now that she was back, right here in front of me, it didn’t even feel real. But it did feel good.
“What can I get you, Shadow?” I asked, still using her nickname. Somehow, it seemed more like her to me than her actual name did.
Her eyes widened and became bright when I uttered the words, and her smile got big and friendly. “Jack and Coke, please.”
“Comin’ right up.” I turned to Reagan and made my voice lower, more intimate. “And for you, pretty lady?”
She hesitated a moment but then straightened her shoulders and said simply, “Same.”
As I went to pour the drinks, I couldn’t help but feel a shiver of anticipation rush through me. Hell, she was going to be more than a challenge. She was like an onion, and I’d have to peel her defenses back layer by layer, and damn, was I looking forward to finding out what was underneath. And for the first time in my life, I wanted to take my time and enjoy the process.
As I set the drinks down and Reagan was pulling out her credit card, I covered her hand with mine and leaned forward so I didn’t have to yell. “It’s on the house.”
“No. Really, I can pay.”
“Family doesn’t pay.”
Reagan glanced to Cheyenne then back to me. “I’m not family.”
Yet, I thought.
“The drinks are on the house,” I insisted.
She began digging in her purse again.
Cheyenne and I looked at one another, and then both looked back at Reagan. The look we shared was a knowing one. One we’d shared a hundred times as kids. I couldn’t put into words what we were communicating but we both understood one another.
I rested my hands on the bar and leaned closer to Reagan. “What are you