silence and I realized that it was the alarm on my phone. I looked down and immediately cleared the notification informing me I was due to meet my wedding planner at The Plaza, where I’d been scheduled to walk down the aisle in just two weeks’ time. I’d already canceled that meeting. And my wedding, for that matter.
Last Monday at this time, I’d had the next sixty years of my life plotted out. I was going to marry Blaine Lincoln Whitford, IV. Become a partner at Whitford, Thomas, Mane and Associates, where I’d worked for the past five years. Have two children. Live in a brownstone on the Upper West Side complete with a golden retriever named Buddy. The blueprint of my happily ever after was drawn up and signed off on.
But one ill-fated—or perfectly-fated, depending on how I looked at it—unannounced visit to my fiancé Blaine’s office when he thought I was in court, and I found myself single, unemployed, and homeless.
After making the X-rated discovery, I’d gone back to the penthouse overlooking Central Park we shared, packed up my things, and left. I’d had no idea where I was going, just that I couldn’t stay there.
Ultimately, I’d ended up checking myself into a hotel and scrolling through social media, as one does. That’s when I saw that my college roommate, Nadia, had commented on a job posting for a law firm in her hometown, seeking an attorney with estate and family law experience.
I hadn’t spoken to Nadia in years, but without thinking about it, I sent her a message. Within seventy-two hours, after two phone calls and one Skype interview, I was on a plane heading to my new life in Firefly and position as a junior partner at Abernathy & Associates.
Taking a deep breath, I did my best to embrace my fresh start. I looked out the large picture window in the conference room. The spring scene was bright and crisp. The leaves on the trees were rustling as the wind danced through them. A bluebird landed on a wisteria tree branch next to a squirrel who was chomping on a walnut.
Since relocating to the small Georgia coastal community, I felt like Amy Adams’ character in Enchanted, but instead of falling into a well and landing in the big bad city, I’d fallen in a well and landed in a live-action version of a Disney movie.
Firefly Island was an idyllic small southern town complete with a breathtaking coastline and a charming trolley system that served as island transportation, along with a web of picturesque canals and bike paths.
In theory, it sounded perfect. In reality, it was unnerving. Besides my Achilles’ heel of detesting tardiness, my childhood had left me carrying around a suitcase filled with trust issues and aversions to small towns.
It was just one case in the full set of baggage I’d yet to unpack in my twenties. But after my most recent life-altering event I was beginning to think that I might need to start unloading.
A noise interrupted the silent reflection I was floating in.
I turned and saw the eldest Comfort brother return to the room, and he wasn’t alone. I took note of the atmospheric shift as the two men entered. The eldest brother, Henry, looked stoic and unreadable, but the middle and previously missing-in-action brother, William, wore a half-smile on his face that read as self-satisfied.
A flash of anger flared in my gut, but it was immediately extinguished by the burst of frothy-foam lust. William Comfort had trouble written all over him. All three of the brothers were attractive, but there was something different about William.
The trio of Comfort men were all in incredible shape. Henry Comfort was built like an ox and had a physique that rivaled Jason Momoa. James Comfort Jr., the youngest Comfort brother, had a lean athletic build and reminded me of Ryan Gosling in the infamous shirtless “you’re photoshopped” scene in Crazy, Stupid, Love.
William Comfort fell in the middle in more ways than just age. He was framed like Chris Pratt. Not Andy Dwyer in Parks & Rec Chris Pratt. No, this man was Guardians of the Galaxy Chris Pratt.
All three men had strong jaws. Henry’s was covered in a well-trimmed beard. James’ was clean-shaven.
William’s was peppered with sexy stubble that was all sorts of five o’clock sexy. The middle brother also had soulful, brown eyes that were surrounded by thick, dark lashes that, frankly, were wasted on someone with a penis.
He was just so… so toe-curling hot.