Son of a Preacher Man (6 page)

“You knew my mama died, right? I figured your daddy would have told you.” Pastor McBride was one of the few people she had notified of her mama’s death. Apparently, Talaitha had kept in touch with him after their inglorious departure from Dale.

“Yup. I was real sorry to hear about that. Your mama was a special lady. She’s the one who convinced me to go into the service, you know.”

“What? Really? No, I didn’t know that. My mama hated anything to do with the
gadzé
’s rules. I’d think she’d have been appalled by the idea of joining the military.”

“She caught me smashing the hell out of a tree with my baseball bat in the woods back behind the church. I was furious with my daddy for one reason or another. Hell, I don’t even remember what now, and she just stood there while I wailed away, smacking this sapling with a bat. When I wore myself out, she asked me if I felt better and gave me this look.”

“Oh, I hated that look. It made you feel about two inches tall.”

“That was the one. She asked me what I was so upset about that I had to destroy a tree that had done nothing more than try to grow in the forest.”

“When was this? I don’t remember her talking about meeting up with you in the woods.”

“It was before we were going out. Shortly after New Year’s. That’s the anniversary of my mama’s death, and my daddy and I always struck sparks off each other for a few weeks around then.”

“Understandable. So how did you go from feeling like a worm to joining the Marines?”

“Your mama told me the reason me and my daddy fought so much was that I had the heart of a warrior and my daddy was a peacemaker. She said we were both leaders, both wanted to help the innocent, but in different ways, and our paths would never be the same.”

“Sounds like gypsy woo woo to me.”

“Me too, but when she looked you in the eye, you believed what she had to say.” He stopped talking while the waitress placed their meals in front of them. When she’d left, he continued.

“She told me I could fight against my path or I could take steps to follow it constructively. The next day, I borrowed the Buick and went to the recruiter’s office.”

“Wow. And now you’re a cop.”

“It’s not like Dale is a booming metropolis.”

“I know, but you’re still the face of the law.” Nadya scooped up a forkful of steaming pasta, cheese and sauce.

“So what’s the real reason you’re in Dale? I can’t imagine your mama left anything with Hornblower. He didn’t open his office until earlier this year.”

“Really? Why would he want to open a law practice in Dale? It’s not like there’s a burning need for legal advice in a town of three hundred or so people.”

“Damned if I can figure it out. He said he was going into semi-retirement and had always liked the area. Bought one of those houses off of Church Street and settled right in.”

“Huh. That’s weird.”

“Which makes me wonder why he’d call you all the way down from New York.”

Nadya took another bite of her dinner to give herself time to consider an answer. Why not tell him some of the story? Maybe talking about it would help straighten it out in her mind. Lord knew replaying the conversation over and over again hadn’t helped.

She took a bracing sip of wine for courage. “Hornblower wasn’t hired by my mama. He was hired by my father.”

J.T. let out a low whistle. “No shit? What does he want?”

“Nothing now—he’s dead too.” Nadya waited to feel some grief, some angst, some anger or leftover resentment, but she just felt
…
nothing.

“So what? Now that he’s dead and can’t do anything to help you and your mama he wants you to what? Lay flowers on his grave?”

“I don’t know. Hornblower had a letter from him for me and said something about a will, but I was too floored to pay attention.”

“He left you in his will? That takes some balls. He wouldn’t acknowledge you when he was alive, but once he’s dead and can’t get in trouble, he’ll leave you a little something. Who the hell was he?”

“I have no idea. I left before Hornblower could tell me.”

“I don’t blame you. I hope you told Hornblower to take the letter and shove it up his ass.”

J.T.’s anger on her behalf gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Strangely, hearing him react with the same emotions she’d had made her feel less alone.

“No, but I wish I had.”

“So what happened?”

“I told him I had no interest in what my father had to say, alive or dead. He called me a coward and I left.”

“Seems to me the coward was your father. It doesn’t take a hell of a lot of courage to admit to wrongdoing when you’re cold in the grave and safe from any repercussions.”

“I know, right?”

“What are you going to do? Go back to New York?”

“Eventually. I kind of want to stick around a few days. I met up with Mary Ellen, and she invited me to dinner. I want to meet her boys, and I have to see her with Billy Michaels to believe it. I just can’t get the picture of the two of them together in my head.”

“They’re a sight, all right. He’s about a foot and a half taller than her and still as skinny as a beanpole. But they seem happy. Their two boys are balls of fire. Mary Ellen says she goes to work just to get a break.”

“She looked great when I saw her. It might have been nice if you’d warned me she was seven months pregnant though. That was a bit of a shocker.”

“That woman has been pregnant almost constantly since I came back to town. I was the best man in their wedding, and I swear nine months to the day later Little Billy was born.”

Over coffee and tiramisu, J.T. filled her in on the rest of the townsfolk and their doings, who had married whom and who had moved away. As he told her stories of the ebb and flow of life in Dale, she realized she had no idea what went on in the lives of the people who lived in the apartment next door to her. If she dropped dead in her kitchen, the only ones who would notice would be the people she worked with. Okay, Sandra would miss her, but who else?

She shook off the maudlin thoughts. There was a reason she’d moved to New York City. She didn’t want everyone knowing her business. She was happy in her job and her life. Maybe she was surrounded by strangers, but at least they weren’t calling her trash or whore. No one knew how she’d grown up, nor did they care. There was a lot of freedom in that.

J.T. signaled for the check. Nadya thought about fighting him for it—her salary was easily double his—but one look from him and she leaned back. He might have changed a great deal over the years, but she was pretty sure his pride hadn’t decreased.

Nadya glanced around at the almost-empty restaurant as they were leaving and noticed it was close to midnight. Where had the time gone?

“Geez, time flies. You’d better get me to the hotel so you can get home. It’s a long ride back to Dale, especially at night.”

“I can handle it.” He held the door to the pickup truck open for her. As he walked around to the driver’s side, she wondered if he’d expected to spend the night with her. A little thrill zipped along her spine at the thought, but she tamped it down. That was one complication she didn’t need right now.

The drive to the hotel was a short one, and they passed it in companionable silence. J.T. had the radio tuned to a country station, but Nadya wasn’t paying any attention to it. Her focus was on the larger-than-life male next to her. J.T. seemed to fill all the space in the otherwise roomy cab. She could swear she felt the heat coming off him and smell the spiciness of his soap.

When he reached forward to turn up the volume on the radio, she startled slightly. “Do you recognize this song?” he asked.

Nadya listened for a minute. She hadn’t heard country in a long time. The song had been popular when they were in high school. “Is that ‘Fall into Me’? I haven’t heard that in years.”

“It was our prom song, remember?”

“I didn’t go to the prom.” She couldn’t afford a prom dress, and she refused to wear one of the hand-me-downs from the Goodwill.

“You didn’t miss much. The gym was decorated with about a thousand streamers that ended up all over the lawn. Most of the girls spent the night either in the bathroom fixing themselves or crying. The guys all stood around feeling stupid in their good suits. The most exciting part was when Tucker Brown puked on Principal Goodwin’s shoes.”

“Sounds like loads of fun.” Mary Ellen had said as much, except she’d added that her date tried to grope her in the car on the way there, then ignored her when she wouldn’t let him get to second base.

“Look, I know it’s none of my business, but I think you should see what your father had to say. Read his letter, let Hornblower do his lawyer bit and then make a decision. It isn’t going to matter to anyone but you what’s in that letter.”

“I don’t know. It just feels
…
weird.”

“Like you’d be betraying your mama?”

“Close, but not quite.” She couldn’t put her finger on exactly why she didn’t want to read that letter. “More like I’ve done fine so far—why should I mess up a good thing?”

“It’s your decision. Just know if you need some moral support, I’m around.” He pulled into a parking place at the hotel instead of just stopping by the front door.

“Thanks, for that and for a great night. I really enjoyed myself.” She smiled at him but doubted he could see in the darkness. There was a street light in another row of the parking lot, but it didn’t reach where they were stopped.

“I owed you one. Think about what I said.”

“I will.” She leaned over to give him a peck on the cheek, a move she had perfected over many first dates, but J.T. had other ideas.

Before she could back away, J.T. slid his fingers through her hair and held her in place while his mouth took hers in a kiss that curled her toes. He didn’t try to ram his tongue down her throat or mash her lips against her teeth. He merely destroyed her with his tenderness.

Her seatbelt was still fastened so she couldn’t lunge forward, but boy, did she want to. His lips caressed hers, teasing her mouth open until his tongue traced the sensitive inner flesh. Heat flared between them, igniting the air in the cab. Even though his hands never strayed from her hair, her nipples hardened beneath her halter top. She could feel herself getting damp and hot between her legs. The urge to climb on top of him and take the kiss deeper was almost overwhelming.

“Think about that too,” he said as he pulled away with a final nip to her lower lip.

“There’s not much chance I’ll forget it.” Her hands shook as she unbuckled herself and eased out of the truck. She was half afraid her legs wouldn’t hold her and she’d fall flat on her face. Now wouldn’t that be a classy exit?

With her head spinning, she barely registered that J.T. didn’t drive off until she went through the lobby doors. It was probably a good thing he hadn’t pushed her about coming up to her room. The way she was feeling right now, all her thoughts of not complicating things wouldn’t have been worth spit.

Her room was stuffy, so she bumped the air conditioning up a notch. She should probably take a cold shower before she climbed into bed, because she had a feeling more of the heat was being generated by her than by the Georgia summer.

Well, she learned one thing for sure. J.T. McBride hadn’t lost any of his moves. Or his potency. She’d have to be even more careful now than when she was eighteen or she’d lose her panties just as fast.

Chapter Five

Nadya woke up hot, sweaty and frustrated. The frustrated part she could lay at J.T.’s door, the hot was due to the steamy temperature in the room. She kicked off the clinging sheet and marched over to the thermostat. Instead of a temperature, it flashed three dotted lines. She was no engineer, but something told her that wasn’t good.

She pressed the button on the phone for the front desk, then waited impatiently for someone to finish assisting other guests. While she listened to how she could earn more points and a free night’s stay, she clicked on the television to the local news station.

The region was expecting record temps with no break in sight. Shocker. Protesters were marching at the entrance gate to the state forest. Nadya was only listening with half an ear, but it seemed like they were up in arms about a proposed development that would abut the forest. She remembered Mary Ellen mentioning something about that yesterday. Violence in downtown Atlanta, the Braves won a squeaker, blah, blah, blah.

Finally, someone picked up the phone.

“Front desk, how may I assist you today?” a harried voice asked.

“Hi, I’m in room 1088 and there seems to be a problem with the air conditioning in my room.”

“Yes, Ms. Sarov, I’m afraid there’s been a problem with the climate-control system. We have maintenance workers dealing with it now, but it may be a day or two before it’s fixed.”

“No air conditioning for a day or two? In this heat?”

“Yes. We’re terribly sorry for your inconvenience and will do all we can to book you into our sister hotel in Strasburg. Would you like me to make that reservation now?”

Strasburg was an hour-and-a-half farther south. If she meant to stay in Georgia for any length of time, it would be a three-hour trip to Dale. “Let me get back to you.”