Son of a Preacher Man - By Arianna Hart Page 0,39
long talk over martinis.”
“It’s a date.”
“Good, now I’m going to stand in front of the freezer. I’ll text you from the city.”
Nadya slipped the phone in her back pocket and squared her shoulders. Sandra was right—she could handle this. She negotiated million-dollar contracts for a living. Some housewives from Dale weren’t going to intimidate her. Much.
Chapter Nine
J.T. watched as Nadya pushed Hunter on the swing. Little Billy was on the next swing over, pumping his little chicken legs for all he was worth. Mary Ellen and Bill sat on a bench, holding hands. At first glance, it seemed like just an average day at the park, until he took in the details.
Bill wasn’t just holding Mary Ellen’s hand, he was holding her back. Her face was flushed with anger, and it looked like Bill was trying to talk her down. Several women were congregated by the slide, talking amongst themselves and occasionally throwing glances at Nadya. Any time one of their kids tried to go towards the swings, they’d be redirected.
What the fuck? He looked closer at Nadya. She smiled and laughed with the boys, but there was an edge to it. Her shoulders were tense and she kept looking at Mary Ellen. This was ridiculous. Were they still in high school?
He made his way over to the swings. Despite his irritation with the situation, he admired the way Nadya’s shorts tightened over her butt every time she leaned forward to push Hunter on the swing. She really did have a world-class ass. Damn it, he could not think about last night now. His uniform pants weren’t cut to hide an erection.
“What do we have here? You better slow down, fella, or I’m going to have to give you a ticket for speeding,” he said to Billy, coming around the front of the swings so he could face Nadya. “Afternoon, Miss Nadya. It’s a perfect day for the park.”
“Yeah, lovely.”
“Uncle J.T., you want to see me go on the big slide? I can climb all the way to the top!”
“I don’t—” Nadya started, but J.T. cut her off.
“That sounds great. Come on. I’ll bet Hunter would like to push his truck around in the sandbox. That’s yours right here, isn’t it?” He pointed to the big yellow dump truck.
“Truck! Vroom!” Hunter shouted, waving his legs and arms wildly.
“J.T., I’m not so sure this is a good idea,” she said as she lifted Hunter out of the toddler swing. “I don’t want to cause Mary Ellen any problems.”
“What kind of problems can there be at the park? Come on, I want to see Billy go down that big ol’ slide.”
“Come on, Auntie Nad. Watch me!”
“Yeah, Auntie Nad.” J.T. grabbed Hunter’s truck with one hand and wrapped the other around her waist.
He felt the tension in her muscles and the stiff way she held herself, but then Hunter raised his arms up to her.
“Up! Carry me, ’ti Nad. Prease?”
“Did he just call me Auntie Nad? Did I hear right?”
“Well, I don’t speak toddler, but that’s what it sounded like to me. He even said please.”
“Now I have to do it.” She sniffed as she lifted the chubby two-year-old onto her hip. He wrapped his arms around her neck and kicked his legs.
“Truck. Vroom!”
J.T. tried to ignore how right it felt to have his arm around Nadya while she held a toddler. She would be going back to New York and he’d made his life here in Dale. She’d made it clear this was a temporary visit. Sure, she might come back now that she’d reconnected with Mary Ellen, but she had her own life up north.
As they neared the slide, some of the boys who looked about the same age as Billy broke rank and ran over to him. All conversation died as he and Nadya approached the sandbox where the women congregated.
Nadya’s face was as blank as a sheet of paper, but he could see how tightly she was holding Hunter. She must have squeezed him because he squirmed.
“Down! Truck!”
She set him down and he held his arms up to J.T. for the truck.
“Here you go, Killer. Drive safely.” He waited until Hunter was occupied pushing his truck through mountains of sand before he steered Nadya toward the circle of women staring at them.
“Good afternoon, ladies. Lydia, is that tall rascal your boy? Seems like just yesterday we were getting the Lego out of his nose. And, Daisy, that can’t be your little girl. Wasn’t it just last month we were