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Authors: Arianna Hart

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BOOK: Son of a Preacher Man
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“God, the look on your face. Like you expected to see a pair of panties dangling off the chair.” She wiped her eyes. “Shoot, now I have to pee. Stir the chicken, will you?”

The smell of chicken and seasonings made her mouth water as it filled the kitchen. She tapped the wooden spoon on the side of the pot and turned to put it in the sink. When she did, she almost tripped over little Billy. He stood there, staring silently at her.

“Your mama just went to the bathroom. She’ll be right back.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Nadya was at a loss. She hadn’t been around children very often and they were another species to her. “Can I get you something? Would you like some juice?”

“No, ma’am. Mama doesn’t let us have juice before dinner.”

“Oh.” He certainly was a serious soul. She had no idea what to do next when she remembered the presents she had gotten earlier. “If you go get your brother, I have some things for the two of you.”

“What kind of things?”

“Presents.”

His face lit up and he scampered to the family room. Nadya crossed to where she’d left the bags and put them on the table. Seconds later, Billy came back dragging Hunter with him.

“Now, if you don’t like these, it’s okay. I don’t know much about boys, so I had to guess what you might like.”

Hunter jumped up and down, his little face wreathed in smiles.

“Okay, Billy, this is for you. Do you like baseball?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. And why don’t you call me Miss Nadya?” She handed him a Braves hat and team jersey.

“Wow! Thank you ma—Miss Nadya.” He put the cap on his head and hugged the jersey to his chest. “Just like a real player’s shirt. Can I wear it now?”

“That’s fine with me, if it’s all right with your mama.”

“Me!” Hunter pushed in front of his brother.

“I didn’t forget. This is for you.” She pulled out a big yellow truck.

“Truck!
Vroooom
!”

“What is going on in here?” Mary Ellen asked from the doorway. She held her cell phone in her hand. “Bill is going to be a little late. There was some trouble with the protesters at the gate. What did you go and do, Nadya Sarov?” she asked as Hunter pushed his truck around the kitchen floor and Billy grabbed her arm.

“Can I wear it now, Mama?
Please
?”

“What do you have there?”

“Miss Nadya gave it to me. And it’s a real team shirt, just like the players wear. Can I put it on now, please?”

“Fine, just be careful.” She shooed them out of the kitchen and put her hands on her hips. “I know those jerseys cost the world. I’d thought about getting one for him for his birthday but it was just too much money to spend on something he’d grow out of. And those trucks don’t come cheap either. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking they’re the closest things I’ll ever have to nephews, and I wanted to spoil them. Now that I know they exist, I want to know their birthdays so I can send them presents and they’ll look forward to visits from their Auntie Nadya.”

“You’re bribing my children.”

“Is it working?”

Mary Ellen laughed. “Of course it is, you nitwit. Come on, let me show you where you’re gonna sleep before you offer to buy the boys a pony.”

“Hmm, a pony. I hadn’t thought of that.”

Chapter Six

“Honey? I’m home. I brought one more for dinner, hope that’s okay.” Bill Michaels strolled into the kitchen, a black lab trailing at his heels, followed by none other than J.T. “
Yum
, smells good in here.” He placed a kiss on Mary Ellen’s upturned face and stroked her belly before turning to face Nadya. “Welcome back, Nadya. It’s good to see you again.”

“Thanks. It’s great to be back.” She hugged his tall, skinny form. His hair had darkened from the almost-white towhead she’d remembered to a sandy blond that was thinning at the top. “J.T., fancy meeting you here.”

“When Bill told me Mary Ellen was making chicken and dumplings, I had to invite myself over.”

“There’s always room for one more. J.T., do you want a beer while Bill gets cleaned up?”

“I’d love one. I’ll get it.” He helped himself to the refrigerator then sat next to Nadya on the bench seat. “Don’t you look fresh as a daisy? It’s hot as hell out there. You’d think those protestors would find something better to do when there’s ninety percent humidity and record highs.”

“Were you helping with the protesters? I thought this was your day off?” Nadya tried to act casual but her pulse raced at his nearness. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans, and his biceps bulged at the seams. When he lifted his beer bottle to take a drink, she saw the edge of a tattoo on his upper arm. She had a sudden desire to trace it with her tongue.

She gulped at her wine and scooched a little farther away on the bench.

“Technically, it is my day off, but with only three officers on the entire force, when there’s a big enough problem, we get called in.”

“I’m surprised the town can still support a police department. I noticed the secondary school is closed and the library.”

“The library will re-open in August. It’s open during the school year. The secondary school closed down before I came back. There just weren’t enough students to justify keeping it open. Now the kids go to a regional school near Canton.”

“That’s a long ride every day.”

“Yup. The town is arguing about what to do with the old school building. Some folks want to turn it into a town hall slash recreation center. Other people want to keep it as it is in hopes we’ll have enough students to re-open it.”

“Do you think that will happen?”

“I doubt it. Besides, even though they have to ride the bus an hour each way, the kids are getting more opportunities than they would at our little school. The regional school has a football team, a band, foreign-language classes and computers. We couldn’t afford any of that in Dale.”

“If that developer gets his way and builds a bunch of McMansions, we’d have more families than we could handle,” Bill said as he walked into the kitchen. He’d changed out of his brown uniform into jeans and a T-shirt.

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Mary Ellen said, handing him a beer. “We could use some fresh blood around here. And building means jobs. Lord knows, we could use more of those as well.”

“There are better ways to spark the economy than cutting down acres of woodland and building a bunch of overpriced houses. Our infrastructure can’t support a new development of the size being proposed.”

Nadya tried not to let the shock she felt show on her face. Billy Michaels was using words like economy and infrastructure. Hell, he was speaking at all. She’d heard him use more words in the twenty minutes he’d been home than she had the entire time she’d lived in Dale.

“Where would the new development be, if it gets approved?” she asked.

“Right behind the cabin,” J.T. said. “Apparently, the only street access is my driveway. The proposal calls for widening it and expanding it.”

“But that would mean tearing down the cabin.”

“Yup.”

Dismay hit her heart like a bullet. Even though the cabin was never
hers
exactly, it was still where she’d grown up. More importantly, if the drive got widened, it would ruin the little grove along the creek and tear down all the woods around the house.

“Don’t look so sad. It’s not a done deal. The developer is still in negotiations with the owner of the property. I guess there’s been some probate issues or something. This could get held up in the courts for years.”

“Enough of this serious talk,” Mary Ellen declared. “Dinner’s ready and I want only happy conversations. Bill, call the boys in to wash while I ladle out the stew.”

 

“I’m stuffed. I don’t think I could fit another bite,” J.T. said as he leaned back along the bench. The only thing he wanted to bite right now was Nadya’s neck. With her hair all piled up on her head, it left the long line of her throat open and mouth-wateringly vulnerable.

“That’s too bad, because Nadya brought chocolate éclairs from that fancy bakery in Canton.” Mary Ellen gathered the dishes but slapped at Nadya’s hands when she went to help. “Don’t you lift a single dish, Nadya Sarov. You’re company, and company doesn’t clear.”

“I spent as much time in this house as I did my own, I don’t think I’d qualify myself as company anymore.”

“Doesn’t matter. You and J.T. go sit on the porch while Bill and I clean up the kitchen and put the boys to bed. That will give you some time to digest so we can enjoy dessert. Go on with you, shoo.”

J.T. grabbed Nadya’s hand and pulled her out of the bench. “Come on, before she realizes I’m not company anymore either and makes me wash dishes.”

The night air was cooler but still plenty warm, so he turned on the overhead fans on the porch. Nadya headed to the swing and set it in motion. After he lit some citronella candles, he joined her on the bench seat, sitting closer than was strictly necessary.

“No one makes chicken and dumplings like Mary Ellen and her mama,” J.T. said to break the silence.

“I know. I’m going to have to find a gym to work off all the carbs I’ve been consuming since I got here. I’ll never fit back in my work clothes if I keep eating like this.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Don’t tell me the men in New York only like stick-skinny models who look like little boys?”

“It’s more about looking professional than attracting a man. It’s hard to convince someone you’re a competent lawyer if your boobs are popping out of your blouse and you skirt is skin tight across your ass.”

“God save me from competent lawyers then.”

“Jerk.” Nadya elbowed him in the ribs even as she laughed her low, husky laugh.

Instantly, he went rock hard and thanked the powers that be that the candlelight didn’t reveal his condition. “Bill tells me you’re staying with them for a few days. That’s good.”

“I don’t know about a few days. I’m keeping my options open.”

“Seems to me if you’d made a decision, you’d be on the road already.”

“True. I don’t usually vacillate like this. I look at a situation analytically, weigh the pros and cons and make a decision. I just can’t wrap my head around this though.”

“Because nothing about it is logical. You came down thinking you were going to deal with paperwork about your mama, then found out your long-lost daddy had decided to send you a message from beyond the grave. I don’t know about you, but if my whole world view was turned on its head, I might have a little trouble laying the situation out logically too.”

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think? I mean, it’s not exactly my world view. I’ll still be the same person no matter who my father is or what he has to say. Nothing in that letter of his is going to make a difference, really.”

“You don’t say.” He tried to hide his grin.

“You shit, you totally played me.”

“Naw, I just steered you in the direction you were already headed. You know who you are. Nothing anyone has ever said has made a difference in that. Why should a letter from the man who fathered you change anything?”

“You’re right. I’ll call Hornblower in the morning. Once I get that over with, I can enjoy some time with Mary Ellen and the boys before I go back to New York.”

“That’ll be good.” His gut clenched at the thought of her leaving, but he’d had a lot of practice hiding his emotions, so he kept his tone light. “I’m off tomorrow, provided the protesters don’t get all riled up again. I can go with you to Hornblower’s office if you’d like.”

“That’s sweet of you.” She turned toward him and laid her hand on his shoulder. “But I think this is something I have to do on my own.”

Her nearness was too much for him to resist, so he no longer tried. Leaning over the scant few inches that separated them, he captured her full lips and drank her in. He’d meant to keep the kiss light, but that plan changed the second she responded to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him like he was the only thing anchoring her in a storm. The feel of her full breasts crushed against his chest had his dick straining against the bonds of his jeans. Sweat beaded up on his brow, and it had nothing to do with the summer air.

Last night, he’d been a gentleman and kept his hands to himself. Not now, and not ever again if he had his way. All that dusky gold skin had been tempting him from the moment he’d walked into the kitchen. He wanted to touch and taste every inch of her.

Ever so lightly, he trailed his fingertips over the exposed skin of her back, tracing the bumps of her vertebrae. He circled up to where the knot secured her dress and slid his fingers under it. It was all he could do to remember they were sitting on Bill’s porch and leave the knot in place.

Resisting that temptation, he gave into another one and kissed his way to the shell of her ear. When he bit the tender skin of her neck, she let out a moan that just about did him in. Her hands gripped his biceps, nails digging into him, but he didn’t even feel the pain. The scent of her teased his senses, drugging him with her innate sensuality.

Slowly, giving her plenty of time to stop him in his tracks, he circled his hand closer and closer until he reached the plump fullness of her breast. The cotton of the dress couldn’t stop him from feeling her nipple tighten under his palm. He wanted to draw that tight bud into his mouth and suck on it until she begged for mercy.

BOOK: Son of a Preacher Man
5.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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