Panty Dropper (Southern Comfort #1) - Melanie Shawn Page 0,47

Prominent business owners. That whole crowd. Jennings Abernathy—who I don’t have to remind you is the name of the senior partner at the firm where you are currently employed—is what you might consider the de facto king of that crowd.”

“Yeah, I had sort of picked up on that when Stew mentioned that his family was one of the founders of the town.”

Nadia’s face lit up. “Right! See you do know something, Jon Snow!” I stuck out my tongue at her GoT reference and she continued, “Then, there’s the other crowd. Or, I guess you could say the other side of the tracks.”

“The wrong side, you mean.” I was very familiar with that side.

Nadia grimaced. “I hate to say it, but, yes. That’s how they’re seen. At any rate, people from that group tended to congregate at Southern Comfort and James Sr. pretty much sat at the top of that heap.”

I waited to hear more, but when she didn’t continue I prompted, “Okay, go on.”

“Not much more to tell. Just that Mr. Comfort was an outspoken man, I think the booze made him even more opinionated. He and Abernathy butted heads many times over the years. It sort of trickled down to the second generation. Hank and Abernathy’s oldest son had an epic fight that landed Tanner in the ICU. And rumor has it that Billy deflowered his only daughter Greer. And Jimmy and Landry, his youngest son, were caught with enough acid to be charged with distribution. So needless to say, your boss is not a fan of the Comfort boys.”

“Good to know.”

We finished up the coffee and Nadia filled me in on some of the other colorful dates she’d been on. Before going our separate ways, we made plans to go to a crab feed that kicked off spring break.

On my way to the office, I digested everything I’d come to learn about Billy Comfort.

He was a client. He had a reputation with a capital R. His nickname was Panty Dropper. And now, come to find out he and my boss were as good as enemies.

The reasons to stay away from him were piling up fast and furious.

But that wasn’t all I knew about him. I also knew how his soft lips felt gliding along my neck. I knew how his heartbeat felt against my chest. I knew how shallow his breaths were when he slept. And I knew how deep and soulful his eyes were when his attention was focused directly on me.

I also knew the smartest thing in the world I could do would be to forget I’d ever met the man, and take any feelings I had for him and nip them right in the bud. But as I entered the office and was greeted by Daisy, I knew deep down that wasn’t going to happen.

CHAPTER 21

Billy

Sitting in my childhood home around the table with both of my brothers and my little sister, there was just something that felt right about it. I had a deep sense of peace, and that things were going to be okay.

At least as far as my family went. I was still feeling all sorts of ways about a pretty lawyer lady that I feared had my heart in the palm of her hands.

Cheyenne sat beside me twisting her hair and it reminded me that my mother used to do the same thing. Whenever Mama was concentrating or worried about somethin’, she’d twirl a strand of hair around her finger. It made me wonder if Cheyenne did it for the same reason.

“It’s good to have you home, Shadow.” It may not have been the most original sentiment, but it was sincere.

And it seemed to do the trick. Her shoulders relaxed and a sweet smile lit up her face. “Thanks.” She let her eyes travel around the rest of the table. “And thank you guys for letting me be here. I really appreciate it.”

Maybe it was the obvious fragility and vulnerability in Cheyenne, or maybe he just felt the familial pull, but Hank gave her a small but warm smile. “It’s a family meeting. You’re family.”

That was damn near poetic comin’ from Hank.

Tears sprang up in Cheyenne’s eyes and she quickly wiped them away. “Thanks,” she said, and her voice trembled softly.

“And, hey, Sis,” Jimmy added, “If you keep bringing this caliber of snacks to all the family gatherings, you’re not only going to be welcome. You’re gonna be the favorite. What are these called, anyway?”

I’d explained to her that it was

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