Page 101 of Panty Dropper

The list of reasons we were a bad idea was a mile long. There were more red flags than a Canada Day parade. One of which was that, up until a couple of weeks ago, I was supposed to be getting married in two days. Then there was his reputation, which apparently he lived up to. Add to that the fact that he and my boss were sworn enemies, and it was a trifecta of bad ideas.

The first time I’d laid eyes on him I’d known I needed to stay away. The Taylor Swift song “Trouble” should be the soundtrack that played whenever he entered a room. But for some reason I hadn’t been able to stay away from him. Not until Nadia told me about Daisy. For whatever reason, that tidbit of information had served as a repellent for resisting his charms.

But even that was wearing off. Spending this hour in the same vicinity as him began to counteract its effects. Every time I saw him smile, heard him laugh—or worse, heard his voice—I could feel my resolve slipping faster than a rock climber with Vaseline on his fingers and shoes.

At the end of the long, sweaty hour, Nadia and Cheyenne decided they were going to go get breakfast, and I told them I had to get back to get ready for work. I’d hustled out to my car and honestly had no idea that Billy was behind me until he said my name as I clicked the fob.

“Reagan.”

My first thought was to ignore him. I’d done it for the last hour, and for the three days before that. If I could just get in the car and drive away, I’d be home free. For now, at least. But like a moth speeding headlong toward a flame, I turned around.

He smiled as he studied my face, which I could only assume was flushed and blotchy. I didn’t imagine there was much there to smile about—but that was what I loved about the way Billy looked at me. Even in this state, he made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.

I braced myself for him to call me out on not answering his calls or replying to his texts or thanking him for the flowers. I was already coming up with excuses to defend myself when his grin grew wider.

“Did ya know that your hair curls up at the nape of your neck in the most adorable way when you get all hot and sweaty?”

My hand flew to my neck, ran my fingers over the hair there—which was, in fact, curling.

He winked. “Not the first time I’ve noticed it.”

Turbo-charged butterflies zoomed around in my belly.

He leaned down and gave me a quick kiss on the lips in front of God and everyone. Before I could object, it was over. “Anyway, I just didn’t want to leave without giving you that. You drive safe now.”

I stared speechless as I watched him walk away. It was one hell of a view.

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