Since relocating to the small Georgia coastal community, I felt like Amy Adams’ character in Enchanted, but instead of falling into a well and landing in the big bad city, I’d fallen in a well and landed in a live-action version of a Disney movie.
Firefly Island was an idyllic small southern town complete with a breathtaking coastline and a charming trolley system that served as island transportation, along with a web of picturesque canals and bike paths.
In theory, it sounded perfect. In reality, it was unnerving. Besides my Achilles’ heel of detesting tardiness, my childhood had left me carrying around a suitcase filled with trust issues and aversions to small towns.
It was just one case in the full set of baggage I’d yet to unpack in my twenties. But after my most recent life-altering event I was beginning to think that I might need to start unloading.
A noise interrupted the silent reflection I was floating in.
I turned and saw the eldest Comfort brother return to the room, and he wasn’t alone. I took note of the atmospheric shift as the two men entered. The eldest brother, Henry, looked stoic and unreadable, but the middle and previously missing-in-action brother, William, wore a half-smile on his face that read as self-satisfied.
A flash of anger flared in my gut, but it was immediately extinguished by the burst of frothy-foam lust. William Comfort had trouble written all over him. All three of the brothers were attractive, but there was something different about William.
The trio of Comfort men were all in incredible shape. Henry Comfort was built like an ox and had a physique that rivaled Jason Momoa. James Comfort Jr., the youngest Comfort brother, had a lean athletic build and reminded me of Ryan Gosling in the infamous shirtless “you’re photoshopped” scene in Crazy, Stupid, Love.
William Comfort fell in the middle in more ways than just age. He was framed like Chris Pratt. Not Andy Dwyer in Parks & Rec Chris Pratt. No, this man was Guardians of the Galaxy Chris Pratt.
All three men had strong jaws. Henry’s was covered in a well-trimmed beard. James’ was clean-shaven.
William’s was peppered with sexy stubble that was all sorts of five o’clock sexy. The middle brother also had soulful, brown eyes that were surrounded by thick, dark lashes that, frankly, were wasted on someone with a penis.
He was just so… so toe-curling hot. His features were chiseled, his brown hair was lush and wavy, his arms were muscled, and I could just about see the outline of his six-pack even through his worn T-shirt.
But his drool-worthy appearance wasn’t what was making my body light up like Times Square. I mean, I was a grown woman. I’d laid eyes on handsome men before. What William possessed was an ineffable quality, a vibe that rolled off him when he shot that cocky half-grin around the room. It stopped me in my tracks and made my mouth water. It dampened my panties, and that wasn’t something that happened at a will reading very often. Or ever.
Get it together, Reagan.
I had to remain professional no matter how rude or ridiculously attractive the client was. That was the job.
I cleared my throat and pushed my reading glasses farther up my nose. “All right. We can get started now that we are all here.” My eyes cut to Mr. Cocky as I said the last two words.
He acknowledged the glance with nothing but a wink and smile, causing me to have to clear my throat again so my voice wouldn’t crack. I looked down at the sheaf of papers in my hands.
“The late Mr. Comfort’s estate was fairly straightforward. He left no heirs aside from his children and had no real assets aside from his house and the establishment known as Southern Comfort, a bar of which he was the sole proprietor.”
I lifted the top two sheets to check the third page and then continued, “Mr. Comfort left his home to his eldest child, Henry Comfort.”
“Hank.” Mr. Cocky corrected me with a lopsided grin that turned my insides to mush.
“Hank,” I repeated trying not to allow his charm to undo me. “And I understand this was a prearrangement in exchange for Hank residing at the home and assisting Mr. Comfort the past ten years.”
I paused and looked up to see if anyone had any questions or comments. The brothers nodded, and the youngest, James, said, “That’s right. Hank gets the house.”
I returned my attention to the papers in front of me. “Then the only item left is the disposition of Southern Comfort. Ownership is to be divided equally among Mr. Comfort’s children.”
I looked up again, and Jimmy shook his head, “It can’t be exactly even. There’re three of us. Thirty-three percent each, with one leftover. But Billy should get the extra percent, by all rights. He’s been managing the bar for as long as I can remember.”
The youngest of the Comfort siblings seemed to have no issue with his eldest brother inheriting the family homestead and giving up majority ownership of the bar to his other brother. In the five years I’d been practicing, I’d never experienced a family member willingly relinquish any rights to property or assets.
Maybe it was a Southern thing…
“I agree,” replied Hank.
Another, no less potent grin tugged at William’s full lips as he shifted in his chair. The movement caused his bicep to press against the soft cotton T-shirt sleeve. A shudder went through me as I imagined myself touching that muscular, sculpted bicep. It took me a minute to clear my mind of those breathless images, which was why I was about a minute late in processing the words they were saying.
I’d never experienced insta-lust like this before. Was it possible that I was having some sort of nervous breakdown?
“That’s very generous, but also not possible,” I said, slightly flustered and unprofessionally breathless.
“What do you mean?” Billy asked, and the deep, mellow sound of his voice sent another shudder through me. I had to work hard to refocus.
I consulted the paperwork. “The business is to be divided evenly. Twenty-five percent to each of Mr. Comfort’s four children.”
“What the hell? Four children?” Jimmy chuckled as if it was a joke.
Hank and Billy just sat in silence staring at me with matching blank expressions.
“Yes,” I said, a little taken aback that this relatively simple will reading was going in such an unexpected direction. I read the names from the paperwork. “Henry, William, James Jr., and Cheyenne.”
“Cheyenne? Who the hell is Cheyenne?” Jimmy straightened up in his chair.
Hank sighed. “She’s our sister. You were only two when Mama died and she went to live with our grandparents.”
CHAPTER 3
Billy
I couldn’t believe the words coming out of this lady lawyer’s mouth. This incredibly gorgeous and sexy lady lawyer.
When I walked into the conference room I’d expected to see Abernathy’s pompous ass in this meeting, which was a big part of my need for distraction in the supply closet.
Abernathy had hated Pop and the feeling was mutual. I’d protested having his firm handle the will but Hank’d vetoed my objection. Mainly because this was the only law firm in town.
I’d been primed to come face to face with Asshole, er… Abernathy, so imagine my surprise when I walked in to see a raven-haired, blue-eyed stunner seated at the other end of the conference table, clearly holding court.