Page 77 of Panty Dropper

“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 get there.”

“Thanks, Shadow.” I turned and carried Reagan down the stairs that led to the beach and then back to the employee and vendor parking lot.

“Billy, Billy, Billy, Billy, Billy.” Reagan repeated my name over and over until I put her in my truck.

I got her buckled in and when she fell silent, I looked up and saw that her head was resting back and her eyes were closed.

“I see you found her.”

Jimmy’s voice sounded behind me. I made sure that Reagan’s arms, legs, and dress were all safely in the vehicle before quietly shutting the door. When I turned, I saw a shit-eating grin spread across my brother’s face.

“Yeah, thanks,” I ignored the clear amusement he was getting out of this.

He shook his head. “I never thought I’d see the day that the man, the myth, the legend, Billy Panty Dropper Comfort would drop everything and come runnin’ for a girl.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”

“I really am.” His smile widened but then dropped. “Except, shit. Now I owe Hank a Benjamin.”

“What?” I asked, only half paying attention as I walked around to my side of the truck.

“I bet Hank a C-note at Pop’s memorial that you weren’t in love with Reagan.”

In love?

What the hell? My brothers and I never talked about the L word. We barely said it to each other, not that often, and never in the context of a female.

“After I showed Abernathy the door, I asked where you were and he said that you left with Reagan. I tried to go find you right then, to calm you down, but he stopped me. He said that Reagan could handle it. I asked, how the hell he figured and old Hank said that I’d be surprised what love could do. I thought he was full of shit, so I bet him one hundred dollars that he was wrong.”

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