Also—not to judge someone I’d never met too harshly—but from what I’d been able to gather, his approach to record keeping was similar to his driving, in that he seemed to do both primarily while drunk off his ass.
“Right, of course. I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be. Next week, things should be under much firmer control and I’m going to look into it further at that point.”
“Thanks.” She stood and brushed her hands off, the crumbs falling into her napkin. “Well, I better get going. I know you have plans.”
“Oh no, you don’t have to” I rose from the bed. “Why don’t you come with us? To look at places.”
“No thanks, I don’t want to be the third friend wheel.” Her blue eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Ha ha,” I chuckled. “Seriously, you should come. It will be fun.”
And with a chaperone along, I’ll be less likely to hoist and fly my freak flag.
“Oh, I’m sure you two will have fun.” She smiled airily and gave me a quick hug, then was out the door before I could protest further.
“Thanks for the—” The door shut. “—donuts and coffee.”
I sat back down and thought about what she’d said. Why would Abernathy go to her grandparents’ house and then not speak to her? And why had he gone to her graduation ceremonies?
I picked up the jelly donut that I’d only taken one bite out of so far and took another one. When I did, the gooey filling squirted out the bottom and landed smack dab in my lap.
“No,” I cried out as I grabbed the two folded napkins that were still clean and tried to gently remove the jelly, crossing my fingers that my swift action would result in there being no trace of my breakfast eating snafu on my denim.
When I lifted the bright red blob I jotted a mental note to self: Finger crossing does not work.
There was a wet stain that looked like I’d peed my pants, or worse, had bled through my shorts.
Shit. That was the last clean item of clothing I have.
Well, that wasn’t exactly true. I did have one thing I could wear.
CHAPTER 29
Billy
Two sharp knocks on the door to Reagan’s room was all it took for her to yank it open. I was relieved, actually. Mrs. B had banned me from coming to the boarding house years ago after I’d visited not one but two guests in the same evening, then got myself caught when I was on my way to a third.
The night had ended with the women confronting me, and then each other. That was when it got messy and a catfight ensued. There was name calling, hair pulling, and face scratching—and that was just what was directed at me. I’d left the boarding house with several flesh wounds and lifetime banishment.
Reagan stood in front of me now, eyes wide and cheeks a little flushed.
I grinned. “Waiting for me on pins and needles, darlin’?”
She turned and grabbed her purse. “I appreciate punctuality.”
I snuck a look behind her into her room before she shut the door. My eyes lighted on the bed. Thinking about laying her out on that floral comforter, her hair spread out over the dusty pink pillows, sent a flash of heat belting through my body. It took every ounce of discipline in me to keep from suggesting that we ditch the house hunting and spend a “friendly” day in that bed, naked and smiling. It was tough. I wasn’t someone who was particularly known for my self-control.
But this thing with Reagan—it wasn’t about momentary satisfaction. I was in this for the long game, and I needed to treat it as such. She wanted to be friends. Fine. We could start there.
If I could make Reagan feel safe and settled here in Firefly, then I had a much better chance of spending a hundred days and nights happy between the sheets with her, instead of just the one.
She shut the door firmly behind her and shrugged her purse strap over her shoulder. “So. Where are you taking me?”
I looked her up and down. She was wearing a floaty white dress that reminded me of the one Marilyn Monroe had worn in the iconic picture of her standing over the grate. Unlike Ms. Monroe’s, the dress Reagan wore ended at mid-thigh. Her legs looked a mile long and I had a flash of them wrapped around me.
If we weren’t “just friends” then I would probably give her a whistle and say something like, “Damn girl, you