Panty Dropper (Southern Comfort #1) - Melanie Shawn Page 0,79

It was a message from Jimmy. I almost put my phone back, thinking I’d read it later, when a photo came through. It was of a group of people dancing. I scrolled up to see what the text had said.

Just thought you might want to know that Reagan is out on the dance floor with Mack Daddy Mark and she can barely stand up.

I checked the photo again and this time I spotted Reagan. She was wearing a long red dress and Mark’s arms were around her waist and it looked like he was holding her up.

Tiny bubbles appeared on my screen before another message came through.

Oh, and she’s been asking for you…

For me? Without giving it a second thought, I ducked under the bar flap and headed out back, waving to Cash who was working the outdoor bar on the patio.

“I’m headin’ out.”

My friend nodded in acknowledgment even as his eyes narrowed. “You comin’ back?”

“Yeah.” As much as I wanted to say no, there was no way I could bounce on one of our busiest nights of the year. Once everything shut down at the pier, we were always slammed by people wanting to continue the party.

I jumped in my truck and took a service road down to the water, avoiding the traffic jam on the main drag. I made it down there in just a few minutes time and entered the employee and vendor gate at the docks. Access to this lot was one of the perks of Jimmy owning the tour boat business.

I’m here. Where is she? I texted as I took the stairs up from the beach two at a time. There were hundreds of people on the pier, it would’ve been like finding a needle in a haystack.

Damn, you got here quick. Jimmy texted back.

I’d just reached the top when I saw that I no longer needed my brother for Reagan GPS. She was sitting on a bench between Nadia and Cheyenne. I stalked up to the trio and demanded, “How much did she drink?”

Reagan lifted her head and smiled. “Hi! I yus juzz talkin’ bout you,” she slurred.

“She keeps stopping people and asking if they know you,” Cheyenne explained.

“And a surprising number of women say yes,” Nadia interjected with a smirk.

“How much has she had to drink?” I asked again.

Reagan lifted her arm and held up her middle and forefinger. “Two. Only two.”

“Two mason jars of sweet tea moonshine.” Nadia clarified.

“Shit.” One glass of that stuff got me lit, and two would knock me on my ass. I’d warned her about it, but apparently she hadn’t taken me seriously.

“I know,” Nadia agreed.

“I can’t believe she’s still standing. What about you? Are you okay?” I asked my sister.

Her eyes widened as she lifted her hands, palms facing me. “After the other night, I’ve given up drinking. At least for now.”

“And you?” I checked with Nadia. Dealing with getting one drunk person home I could do, if I had more than one, I’d need to text Jimmy for backup.

She held up a half-full glass jar. “She finished off my first drink and I’ve only had half of this one. And just that has me a little buzzed.”

Reagan hiccup-burped and then moaned, holding her stomach and looking a little green. I had a feeling that she was about to be sick and I doubted she’d want to do that with so many witnesses.

“Can she walk?” I asked.

“Not well,” Nadia said flatly.

“I’ll get her home safe.” I scooped her up, and she giggled and hiccupped again. I just hoped that she didn’t toss her cookies, or whatever she ate all over me.

“No funny business, William S. Comfort.” Nadia stood and pointed her finger at me using my middle initial. She probably would’ve used my middle name but no one knew it. Except Hank, that is. I didn’t even think Jimmy knew it. “No panty dropping!”

I just stared at her. Nadia had known me since primary school. “Do you actually think I would take advantage of som—”

“No! Sorry!” she shouted about ten decibels louder than was appropriate but then lowered her voice to just above a whisper as she cringed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yelling at you and for thinking, or no saying, or whatever. I’m sorry, I know you would never… I told you, I’m buzzed,” she shrugged.

Maybe I would need to call for backup after all.

As if reading my mind, Cheyenne threaded her arm through Nadia’s. “I’m crashing at Nadia’s tonight. I’ll text you when we

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