Page 108 of Hometown Hottie

53

NOVA

Isat on the sofa with my mom, holding her hand and leaning into her side. Dad, Ryan, and Carson spoke about the fire. Carson had driven us here, to my house, with my father in his own truck, and my mother had been waiting.

I hadn’t even heard Ryan telling him where to go. It was like my head was too foggy right now. My ears were ringing slightly and everything in my body was just too sluggish to pay much attention. I felt like I was zoning in and out of consciousness without ever actually losing it at all.

Mom sat steadfastly by my side, her thumb stroking the back of my hand as she listened to the men talking. I listened too. Or at least, I tried, but every time I blinked, I saw the flames destroying everything I’d built and I lost focus again.

For once, Ryan and Carson were obviously on the same side and acting like friends again now that they had a common enemy—either a faulty gas line or someone who had intentionally started the fire.

It was bad enough to know that the bakery was gone, but the thought that someone had burned it down made me sick.

That was where the real shock had come in. It was why I still couldn’t quite focus and why I was so loopy that everyone kept sending me worried glances.

“It’s not the gas line,” Ryan insisted, standing around the kitchen counter with Carson and Dad.

All of them were still covered in soot, but it didn’t seem to be bothering them much. Mom had offered to fetch them all a change of clothes just after we’d arrived, but I hadn’t even heard any of them responding to her.

Then again, I’m definitely not hearing everything that’s being said tonight.Narrowing my eyes into slits, I hoped I’d be able to stay focused for this part of the conversation. It seemed important that I did.

Dad cocked his head at my brother, not disagreeing, but also not looking as convinced as Ryan sounded. “How do you know? These gas lines are old, son. All of our infrastructure is.”

Ryan shook his head. “I was there when Eric did the upgrades while we were doing the revamp. He knew that building was going to become a bakery and he was careful.”

“It might not have been anything he did,” Dad reasoned. “The problem could’ve come from somewhere else.”

“I don’t think so, George,” Carson said, taking Ryan’s side just like he had been all night. “It’s not impossible, but it just didn’t look like it’d started anywhere near the gas line.”

My father was pale under the smeared ash, his eyes wide and his face betraying his exhaustion, but he didn’t back down. “That’s what you both keep saying, but there’s just no way either of you can know for sure.”

“What do you think?” Ryan challenged him. “Do you honestly think it was an accident?”

“I don’t know.” Dad released a heavy breath. Specks of dirt in his hair stuck to his fingers as he dragged them through it. He glanced at his hand, his expression haunted. “All I know is that if you two are right, we’ve got bigger problems than we think.”

Mom squeezed my hand, her eyes on her husband. I knew she wanted to take him home and get him cleaned up and to bed, but we were waiting for the sheriff. Apparently, Captain Adams had told Dad the police would want to take our statements tonight.

Carson and Ryan stood shoulder to shoulder, seeing eye to eye for the first time in a long time. Neither of them seemed to be carrying a grudge tonight, and for that, at least, I was grateful. Watching them fight that fire together like they could hear each other’s thoughts—and now seeing them put everything else aside in a time of crisis—reminded me of how they used to be.

More like brothers than friends.

Maybe Cassidy had been right the other day. All this drama was just noise, but for Ryan and Carson’s relationship. I sighed. All of that seemed so damn insignificant right now, and yet, I knew it wasn’t. I knew how much it meant that they were putting it aside for me tonight, and I appreciated them both for it.

A sharp knock at the door made Dad stiffen. He glanced at the guys. “Stay put. I’ll let him in, but let’s hear what he says before we start slinging wild theories at the man.”

Ryan sighed heavily and Carson didn’t look too happy either, but they both nodded when Dad kept staring at them. Once he had their agreement, he glanced at me and his expression softened. “Are you going to be able to talk to them tonight, honey? We can give our statements and ask them if you can go do yours at the station in the morning.”

“No,” I said, steeling myself for what had to be done. “I’ll do it now. It’s fine.”

Mom squeezed my hand again. Dad opened the door and stepped aside for Sheriff Dawes to enter. The man went to the same church as we did, but he wasn’t all kind and smiling now like he usually was on Sundays.

Dressed in his uniform with his gun on his belt and graying scruff on his jaw, there wasn’t a hint of smile. “George. Mara.” He greeted my parents with a nod at each, then turned to Ryan and Carson. “I understand you boys did a good job keeping the fire under control until the fire department arrived.”

They exchanged a glance, but the sheriff had already turned toward me. “After I get your statements, I’ll need to ask you a few questions, Nova.”

“Of course.” I cleared my throat and nodded, scooting forward on the sofa and releasing my mom’s hand. “Would you like something hot to drink before we get started?”

I couldn’t help myself. The small-town hospitality was infused in the blood that ran through my veins. Especially when it came to older people and authority figures—both of which he was.