Son of a Preacher Man - By Arianna Hart Page 0,66

swore just about every damn one was staring at him. Nadya lifted her head, saw a hundred plus people smiling at her and stuck her face into his neck.

“Please, let a hole open up and swallow us. Please.”

“I think we’re just going to have to brazen through this one, darlin’.”

“Fantastic.”

“We’re almost there, just hold on a few more yards.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really.”

He got to the truck and reached over to open the door. It wasn’t easy to juggle Nadya and his key fob, but he managed to get it open. They both breathed a sigh of relief when he set her down and carefully buckled her seatbelt.

She made a grimace of pain as she readjusted in the seat. “Sorry, I’m a little sore.”

“I’ll bet. I’ll give you a massage when we get home.”

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

“I’ve had a few more, but it looks like they’ll be on hold until you heal up.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss her gently.

Thunderous applause echoed between the buildings as the entire congregation clapped and whistled.

“God. Let’s get out of here.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Nadya was sure someday she’d laugh about the spectacle she and J.T. had just put on for the town’s amusement. But that day wasn’t now. She was sore, her face hurt, her knees stung and she was emotionally beat up.

“I went into Canton today—well, thereabouts,” J.T. broke the silence.

“Oh? What for?”

“Wanted to have a talk with Woody Masterson’s sons.”

Her stomach flipped. Here was something else she’d avoided thinking about. She now had brothers. “What did they say?” Did they want to meet her? Were they curious about her?

“Nothing. Seems they’re on an extended buying trip in Ireland. Their mother is down in Sarasota with her sister, recovering from her loss.”

“What? I could have sworn Hornblower said he’d met with all three of them. Maybe I misunderstood and he just said he’d spoken with them.”

“Could be. Where did Hornblower say he was going?”

“He didn’t. He just said out of town and that he’d be back Wednesday.”

“I’ve got a few questions for Mr. Hornblower. Like how did he know you were staying at Mary Ellen’s?”

“I must have told him.” Although she didn’t remember mentioning it to him.

“I’ve got a call into his cell phone, but if he contacts you first, don’t meet with him alone. I don’t trust him.”

“He’s got to be in his late sixties. And he looks like Colonel Sanders. I really doubt he could have smashed up my car then scurried off unnoticed.”

“His office is right across the street from the post office. Yesterday, he could have seen you at the park near the green and circled around to smash your car. Today, he could have seen you go into the alley and been over in a flash.”

“J.T., I think you’re reaching here. He wears seersucker for heaven’s sake.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know—it just seems wrong though. Muggers don’t wear seersucker.”

“No one should wear seersucker, but that’s not the point. Until I clear up some of these questions, I don’t want you meeting with him alone.”

Nadya sighed. “Fine.” She didn’t need to fight J.T. on everything. She’d gotten her way about not going to the hospital—she could let him win this battle.

Even though J.T. drove slowly, the ride up the rocky driveway was painful. If Mary Ellen was right and tomorrow would be worse, she wasn’t sure how she would get out of bed.

“Go take a shower. I’ll get you some tea and ibuprofen. Are you hungry?”

“Not really. Maybe later.” Her head ached and her face throbbed. The last thing she wanted to do was try to eat anything.

She stayed in the shower until it started to run cold. The warm water felt heavenly on her abused muscles. When she stepped out, J.T. stood there waiting for her with a huge towel and a bottle of ibuprofen.

“I thought I’d give you a massage first, then we’ll see if you’re feeling up to eating.”

“Okay.” He was being so gentle with her, it touched her deep inside.

He propped up some pillows so her face was cradled and squirted some lotion onto her back.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any girlie lotion. All I have is this generic stuff I use when my face gets chapped from being outside too long.”

“That’s it!”

“What? What’s it?”

“There was something about my assailant that I couldn’t put my finger on. Something that triggered a memory, but I couldn’t quite get it. He smelled like that stuff hunters spray

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