Page 111 of Panty Dropper

“I am.”

“Now, what do you want to go digging up the past for, Billy? You know what they say about sleeping dogs, don’t you? You should let them lie.”

All of the anger that I’d been holding at bay rushed through me. I took a step toward him. “So in this scenario, my mama’s a dog?”

“Now, son, listen here—”

“He’s not your son.”

My head snapped around, surprised at Reagan’s voice, smoothly cutting the chief off in the middle of his sentence.

When I glanced back to see his reaction to the interruption I saw his bushy eyebrows shooting up so fast I thought they might just fly right off his face. When he spoke, his molasses drawl was even thicker than normal, a sure sign he was pissed off. “What did you just say to me?”

“That he’s not your son. He’s a citizen. Requesting information that is part of the public record. This is not a discussion. It’s a requisition.” She smiled sweetly. “Now, are there any copying fees that need to be paid?”

His eyes flashed and for the first time since I’d known him, I saw how he could be intimidating. “Excuse me, ma’am?”

His voice had lowered, becoming almost threatening, but when Reagan answered him, hers was still smooth as silk. “No, I don’t think I will, actually. Now, are you going to help? Or are we going to go in front of a judge?”

They stood there in silence for a long moment. I marveled at the showdown. Dawson’s face and body language made him an open book. It was like a thundercloud was steadily forming around him, getting closer and closer to bursting with every passing second. His eyes narrowed, his face reddened. The vein in his neck bulged.

Reagan, on the other hand, just stood still, the expression on her face pleasantly passive, waiting for his response.

He was showboating with a display of so-called strength, and she was standing back and doing what looked like nothing, but it was clear as day who had the upper hand. He was losing control and she had an iron grip on it.

It was sexy as hell, truth be told.

Finally, Dawson spun on his heels and stormed back down the hall, calling back over his shoulder, “Sharla, make them a copy of the damn file.”

Just as he was about to disappear from sight, he turned and served Reagan with a simmering glare.

Reagan smiled brightly at him and waved which only served to piss him off even more.

Not able to help myself, I planted a kiss on her forehead. “You’re really hot when you’re talkin’ in legalese.”

She grinned up at me. “If you thought that was hot, you should see me in court.”

Damn. My jeans got a little bit tighter at the thought.

Sharla came back out and handed me a legal-sized envelope, refusing to meet my eye. I took it, held it in my hand. I didn’t know what I expected to feel when my fingers touched the paper. A bolt of lightning, maybe. But it just felt like paper.

This was all new territory to me. Every step was a step into the unknown, and it seemed like almost nothing felt like I imagined it would.

I placed my hand on Reagan’s back as we walked out into the fragrant spring air. With her by my side, all of this was a lot easier to deal with. In fact, I didn’t know what the hell I’d do without her.

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