Bewitching You(36)

~ * ~

The slap across Gray’s face stung.

“Let me go.” Sofia struggled against him, tears brimming her eyes.

“No. We need to talk this through. Where did you find this note?”

“Stop it, Gray. I get it, okay? You don’t love me. You think I’m nuts.” Her breath came up in spurts as she held back her sobs. “Be a man and admit it.”

He couldn’t release a breath. Air packed his lungs, useless and painful. The note wasn’t even in his handwriting, but he had a damn good guess whose it was.

Only problem was how could that be possible?

Sofia squirmed against him again so he drew her into an embrace, shoving aside every other outlandish thought in his head. The woman in his arms was all that mattered now.

“Nothing’s over,” he said softly against her ear. “I do love you, Sofia. I love you so much it hurts, but I didn’t write that note. Now tell me where you found it.”

Before she could answer, someone pushed through the cornstalks. A large, husky man with a beard and a black hat stared down at them.

Elijah.

“Everybody okay, here?” he asked.

Gray stood, bringing Sofia with him. He set her down, picked his shirt off the ground, and wiped her tears with it. She let him, staring at him with a stunned expression. Gray wanted to kiss her, but they had an audience.

Thank God. “We’re good,” Gray said. “We were lost. Sofia got scared.”

“Oh?” Elijah looked to Sofia for confirmation and she nodded. “Well, then, you two lovebirds need a ride?”

“That would be great. Thank you.”

~ * ~

Sofia sat snug in between the two large men as the buggy sped down the bumpy road with the horses clip-clopping in front. The blanket-covered bench seat bounced them up and down as the wobbly wheels of the carriage dipped in and out of gravelly cracks and grooves.

“Yah, yah,” Elijah yelled and cracked the whip. Like they weren’t going fast enough. Was the man insane?

Gray’s arm tightened around her waist. The poor guy was sitting at the edge and there didn’t seem to be much of anything that kept him from falling out with the next big bump.

Sofia got a grip on his jeans belt loop. She wasn’t losing him now. Not after hearing that he loved her—for real. She’d nearly lost all sense and reason when he’d told her he hadn’t written the note. But, then, who had? A ghost?

Hmm… What about the chilled feeling she’d experienced in the kitchen right before she found the note? No. Spirits couldn’t write and leave messages. They didn’t have the power to interfere in people’s lives. Did they? And, if so, then why? Why would some spirit floating around at Nana’s house leave her a love note and sign Gray’s name?

Sofia shook the mystery from her head for now. Maybe they’d figure it out later and maybe they wouldn’t. She didn’t really care. The note didn’t need to be real. Just the love.

She met Gray’s gaze and he smiled at her. I love you, his gorgeous lips said silently.

Yep, that was all she needed. She smiled back, so big that her cheeks hurt.

Quit being a dork, Sofe.

Ah, who cared? Obviously, the man loved dorks.

“Whoa,” Elijah said, as they pulled into Tom’s Auto Body shop. This was as far as he’d been willing to take them, which didn’t bother Sofia one iota. The less time on the horse and buggy, the better.

Gray jumped down and then lifted Sofia to the ground. “We appreciate it, Elijah.” He picked his wallet out of his back pocket and began to pull out a twenty.

“Noooo,” Elijah grumbled. “Glad to help.” He tilted his hat and winked at Sofia. “Take care now. You stop by and visit some time, hear?”

Then he cracked the whip and was off, just like that.

Gray clenched his jaw, probably holding back a growl.

She squeezed his hand. “We made it here alive at least.”

His frown thawed into a warm grin, and they turned to see Tom standing at the door to the white building with no windows. Just a garage with an old Pinto up on the racks.

Tom had on a filthy used-to-be-white tank top that barely covered his beer gut, and suspenders that held up a pair of grubby tan slacks. A toothpick stuck out of his pasty face that displayed a deep scowl. “What you two’s want?”





Chapter Sixteen



After Gray had explained their situation, Tom finally let them into his office. Any friend of the Amish was no friend of his, he’d said. Which was odd, considering the location of his shop. But Gray wasn’t going to argue. The man had the only phone in a twenty-mile radius.

“I assure you, he was only giving us a lift,” Gray had told him. “I can’t stand those people myself.”

Sofia had nudged him. He’d pay for that later, he was sure. The truth was, he didn’t have anything against the Amish, especially after one of them had done him a huge favor by getting him out of a dead-end cornfield in a matter of seconds.

It’d been embarrassing to discover if they’d only walked another ten feet, they would’ve reached the road, and across it was Elijah’s family home. Ten children had scurried outside to see what all the commotion was about, along with a very pregnant wife who didn’t smile once.

Gray didn’t blame her.

Sofia had cheered up right away, saying hello to each and every one of those kids. Lord, he hoped she didn’t want to have that many children. Three was the limit for him. He shrugged. Maybe four.

Gray halted that thought process. Kids? Marriage hadn’t even entered his mind. Until now. He watched her charm the suspenders right off Tom with her sweet little smile, and realized he wanted nothing more than to marry and spend the rest of his life with Sofia.

“Gray?” She patted his arm, breaking his thoughts. “Tom says he has a car we can borrow.”

“Rent,” Tom corrected.

“For a small fee,” she added and smiled.

“Sounds great. What is it?”

“It’s right out back. Let me show you.” Tom gestured for them to follow.

“Wait,” Sofia said. “Do you have a restroom I could use?”

“Sure thing. It’s right through that door right there. S’cuse the mess. It ain’t been cleaned by a lady in a while.”

“Oh.” The smile disappeared. She looked up at Gray. “I won’t be long.”

He brought her hand up to kiss. “Meet you out front.”

Tom led Gray through the backdoor and into what appeared to be a scrapyard. More than twenty cars were gutted. Others were melded together with mismatched parts. A red hood on a blue car, a primer gray door on a white car, and far in the distance behind a stack of tires, Gray spotted it.

His BMW.

“This here’s a fine car.” Tom banged the hood of a purple Honda Accord with yellow doors. The car had been lowered to about two inches above the ground. “Have to watch it on the bumps, but it runs like a fox chasing after a jackrabbit.”

“That’s my car,” Gray blurted out, thinking of no other strategy to get his baby back.

“What you talking about?”

“That black BMW over there behind the tires. That’s my car. Did you find it alongside the road?”

“Maybe. How do I know it belongs to you?”

“Check the registration. My name’s on it. Grayson Phillips. And—” He yanked his keys from his pocket and hit the keyless entry button. The lights blinked. “I have the keys.”

“Well, now,” Tom said with blazing red cheeks. “Why’d you leave a perfectly good car out on the road like that? Someone coulda stole it. Good thing I was there with my tow truck.”

“Right.” Gray held his tongue. If the car still didn’t start, he might need to persuade Tom to take a look at it. To Gray’s delight, the engine turned over immediately. And—he did a once-over of the exterior and interior—everything seemed to be in order. No scratches or dents or rips. His baby was perfect, as usual.

He drove the car to the front of the shop and waited for Sofia, proud to be able to show her one of the things he’d accumulated by working his ass off. Over his shoulder, Tom stood at the front door, wringing his filthy car-thieving hands together.

If they hadn’t been in a hurry to save people’s lives, Gray would’ve called the cops to send Big Tom to jail for grand theft auto.

“Wow. Tom rented us this for a small fee?” Sofia slid into the passenger’s seat and ran her fingertips over the beige dashboard and the leather upholstery. “Ooh. Very nice.”

Gray wasn’t sure why, but he grew hard in his jeans. It was true then that a man’s car was an extension of his you-know-what. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” She swept a come-hither stare up his body. “It suits you.”