Son of a Preacher Man - By Arianna Hart Page 0,57

enjoyed the challenge of manipulating a contract for her client’s best advantage. Trial law held no interest for her. She liked the intricacies of contract law.

And Dale didn’t exactly have a need for another lawyer in town.

What? Where the hell had that thought come from? Was she seriously thinking about staying in Dale? Panic crept into her brain. What were her emotions doing to her while her hormones were running the show?

Grasping the frame of the swing set, she clung to it for support. Her head was abuzz with conflicting thoughts.

Of course she was going back to New York. Her job was there, her apartment was there and she had friends there. She’d worked too hard to throw it all away.

Worked too hard for what? To continue working until she died of a heart attack at fifty? Alone? She had real friends here and a chance for more. Did she really want to throw that all away for a job?

But what if J.T. didn’t want more? He’d agreed with her when she’d insisted on no promises. He might just have wanted to finish what they’d started at the creek all those years ago. If he’d been anything like her, he had to have wondered what it would be like. Would she still want to stay in Dale if it wasn’t for J.T.? It was a question she just didn’t have an answer for.

As the thoughts in her head spun round and round, she caught a flash of light reflecting from the open kitchen window. The witch’s ball she’d given Mary Ellen sparkled in the sunlight. Nadya could see Mary Ellen washing dishes through the screen door. Bill came up behind Mary Ellen to rub her belly. The baby must have kicked because he jumped and they both laughed.

He put his mouth onto the great mound of her stomach and Nadya heard him say, “Hello, baby, this is your daddy.”

The wave of longing that hit Nadya almost brought her to her knees. She wanted what Mary Ellen had so much she could taste it. A nice home, beautiful children and a husband who adored her. And it wasn’t like Mary Ellen had given up her job. She still worked and managed to balance a business and children. The two didn’t have to be mutually exclusive.

Unless you worked in a firm like Nadya’s.

God, she couldn’t think about all of that now. Quite simply, the whole mess scared her half to death, and she just didn’t want to deal with it. She’d had quite enough self-reflection for one day. Confronting her issues hadn’t solved a damn thing so she’d keep dancing around them for the time being, thanks all the same.

“’ti Nad! ‘ti Nad! Push me!” Hunter had managed to sneak out of the house—and his clothes—and held his arms up to her. His chubby little belly pooched out over his diaper, and his blond hair stuck up all over the place.

“I have a feeling your mama is going to be looking for you, little man,” she said as she scooped him up. He smelled like grape jelly and little boy. When she blew a raspberry on his belly, he laughed and kicked his legs.

“Swing me!”

“Yes, sir.” She buckled him into the swing that looked like his booster seat and gave it a gentle shove. Hunter clapped his hands and rocked back and forth, laughing all the time.

“There you are, you little devil. I went to get a washcloth to clean him up and he pulled a Houdini on me.” Mary Ellen joined her by the swing set, still holding a damp wash cloth.

“This one takes after you. He’s gonna give you a run for your money.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I was an angel.”

“Right. You were stubborn as a mule, and I thank God for it. Anyone less obstinate wouldn’t have stood by me all these years.”

“Hello, pot? It’s me, kettle, calling.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I have my own mulish streak.”

“And the Grand Canyon is just a ditch. Come on, let’s get this guy cleaned up. Bill wants to go over some of the stuff the developer won’t tell you, but you don’t have to do it if you’re not ready.”

Oh, yeah, the land she’d inherited. She hadn’t faced that either. Maybe working sixteen-hour days wasn’t so bad. It didn’t give you much room for introspection.

“No, I want to know all the facts. Hornblower will be back on Wednesday, and I’m sure he’ll want to get a feel for where I stand