His Southern Sweetheart (14 page)

“And not so single,” Brittany mocked.

“Things are more complicated,” he said honestly.

“You've said something along those lines before.”

“And every time I meant it.” He kept his lips straight to show seriousness. Brittany made the small things uncomfortable. There hadn't been a school function where she didn't cling to his arm, silently laying claim to him amongst all the other single mothers.

“You also said you did not believe in bringing dates to weddings.” Brittany nodded her chin in Amelia's direction. “Or did something change?”

“You mean someone?” Nate asked. His harsh stare down at Brittany softened. She didn't deserve to be set on the curb but he'd never made her any promises. In fact, Nate made himself perfectly clear: he was not looking for anything serious from her.

A murmur of conversation spread through the dance floor as the song began to wind down. Nate's heart rate sped up. He turned at the right moment—to witness Amelia departing Parker's arms. She made her way toward him. Automatically Nate's arms dropped from Brittany's waist.

“Hi, guys.”

At the sound of Amelia's cheery voice, the corners of Brittany's eyes narrowed. Her crow's-feet deepened and anger flashed in her eyes when she turned to him. “You say you don't do complicated, but sure seems as though you'll settle for easy.”

Before either of them got a word out of their mouths, Brittany stormed off toward the table where her grandfather, Pastor Rivers, sat nursing a bottle of water. In true dramatic flair, Amelia clutched her heart. “Did I say something wrong?” she gasped playfully.

Nate shook his hand and captured hers. “You're so wrong.”

“Wrong for what?”

The next song started, an Alabama Shakes bluesy tune filtering through the air. “For stealing the show.”

“I'm not doing anything but enjoying this reception.”

“The bride is supposed to be the center of attention,” said Nate, “and here you've got all eyes on you right now.”

Amelia batted her lashes, and though he knew she was playing up her flippant side, he'd learned she did this a lot when she became uncomfortable. “Whatever. More like everyone is staring at you.” Her hands pressed against the lapels of his jacket.

“How much longer do you want to stay here?”

“We can leave now.”

They stayed long enough to watch the bride and groom cut the cake and smear a piece across one another's faces. Grateful that Enzo and Jeanette had offered to take the girls tonight, Nate bid his nieces good-night. Philly whined a bit but the wheels in Kimber's mind had begun turning. Pastor Rivers tipped his head in their direction, trying to get either his or Amelia's attention, but with what Nate had in mind to do with Amelia, the last person he wanted to talk to was a man of the cloth.

Lexi was an obstacle in Nate and Amelia's attempted departure. She wanted to be sure she had Amelia's notes written down on what to film and what angle to take the footage at for Sam and Emily. Outside, another issue slowed them down. All the cars driving aimlessly around trying to find a spot made getting to his SUV seem more like a game of Frogger. Keenan, Stephen's part-time driver, offered to take them wherever, but again, Nate wasn't sure he was going to make it all the way back to Amelia's without ripping off her clothes. He surely did not need an employee of Stephen's to watch.

* * *

Once again Nate drove down County Road Seventeen like a madman, one hand on the wheel while the other pulled her body close to him for a kiss. Amelia thought she might actually burst into flames if she did not touch every inch of Nate's body. For a moment he lost control of the wheel when she yanked open the buttons of his shirt and exposed the tribal tattoo. His tires skidded off the road with each devilish kiss Amelia trailed across his neck, down his chest and against his hard abs. The steering wheel needed to be adjusted to accommodate what she planned on doing to Nate. Her fingers fought feverishly at the button of his slacks until she released him and took him in her mouth.

“Amelia,” Nate breathed nervously.

Loving the way his body tensed up, Amelia smiled and slid her mouth down the length of his shaft. His breath became shallow and she took him in deeper. Three of her fingers barely managed to wrap around the base and moved up and down with a slight release of the pressure of her mouth. She loved hearing him call her name over and over.

With the use of his right hand, Nate slid his fingers down the hem of her dress and began to lift the material up. She was so glad she was wearing a pair of thigh-highs. His thumb traced the lace on her thigh and his stomach moved with his chuckle.

“Woman, you are the devil.”

To show him how much of a devil she could be, Amelia swirled the tip of her tongue around the slick head of his penis and jerked her hand upward, milking out the droplets of precum. “Am I now?”

The answer to her question was a thrust of his long finger between the flesh at the apex of her legs. She'd been wet all afternoon and purred once she finally received his touch. They moved rhythmically in unison to the beat of the song on the radio. By the time the car crunched over the gravel driveway, Amelia was saturated with desire.

Nate threw his SUV in Park and snatched out the keys. He trotted in front of the hood to the passenger's side and opened the door. Amelia greeted him with one leg propped up on the cushioned seat, exposing herself for him. She adored the way he gulped and glanced around. Dusk began to settle on the dark treetops. Everyone who was anyone was at the wedding. No one could see them for miles.

The work she'd done on him was still evident. Amelia took her other leg and pressed it against his sculpted abs. Nate shrugged out of his jacket. The shirt she tore open had no way to stay closed and that suited her just fine. His pants hung low off his hips.

“I don't think I can wait until we get inside, Nate.” Amelia bit the bottom right corner of her lip and blinked innocently.

“I don't like to make a woman have to wait.”

Nate reconnected his body with hers first with a kiss. His hands clasped around the base of her neck and his fingers sunk into her curls. Their mouths danced to the orchestra of the cicadas. Nate skillfully rolled a condom on right before Amelia moved her lower half closer to the edge of the seat and slipped herself onto him with ease.

They both breathed a sigh of satisfaction.

“Is this what you've been waiting for?” Nate asked, moving inside her. He pulled his mouth from hers. The bold gaze of his deep green eyes shook her soul.

“Yes,” Amelia managed to say. Her walls began to throb and suction with each thrust. She wanted to play it cool but the pleasure of his mouth on her breasts overtook her. She leaned back and allowed him to throw her four-inch lavender heels onto the green lawn and hook her legs over his shoulders and pound away. And at the right moment, the precise time he sent her over the edge, Nate's body tensed and his cock thumped against her womb. Amelia closed her eyes and rode the pleasure wave before she felt the cabin of the SUV begin to spin. Not able to look at him just yet, Amelia turned her head to the right and covered her face with her left arm. A small juice box caught her eye. Dear Lord Jesus, she realized this was the same vehicle he drove his nieces around in.

“We've violated your car,” Amelia said with a giggle.
Since when did she giggle?

“You say violate,” Nate said breathily, “I say christened. And damn,” he added. “I also say damn.”

“You're crazy.”

“And starving,” he said. “Woman, you've worked an appetite out of me.”

Nate helped her out of the front seat, adjusting the hem of her dress before tucking himself away and zipping up his pants. Amelia sighed in disappointment.

“Well, perhaps if you didn't spend the entire reception dancing with Brittany Foley.” She began to laugh, then gasped with another fit of giggles when Nate tossed her over his broad shoulders with one arm and carried her toward the house. Instead of taking the steps to the front porch, he took her up the new ramp, hidden by Grandmamma's flowers. Before they made it to the porch, Nate let her down, turned her so she faced the wall and lifted the hem of her dress—then they christened the new ramp.

By the time they made it inside the house, Amelia was famished, as well. Thankfully she remembered the leftover Chinese food. The day before they'd picked up some takeout and Amelia had purposely ordered a dozen egg rolls, positive she'd eat at least two with her meal. Nate had polished off two before she transferred their rice onto a plate and had eaten still another with his meal. Those remaining called her name. The motor of the refrigerator went off when she opened the door to take out the red-lidded containers. Her stomach rumbled so loud she doubted she'd be able to wait until the microwave—a luxury item she'd tucked away in the corner of the counter—heated the rest of the egg rolls.
What! Only five left?
Math might not have been her strong suit but she could've sworn they had only had five the first night. Did Nate eat two for breakfast? She gave Nate a side-eye glance and wondered where he put the calories.

In the kitchen, she and Nate worked side by side, moving in unison. Without words, she ducked when he opened a cabinet and he stepped out of the way when she opened the oven. Once, Amelia had filmed in a fast-paced kitchen and enjoyed the dance of the chefs. She was reminded of them when she observed Nate and herself right now.

“I'm glad you decided to reheat the egg rolls in the oven,” said Nate, leaning his long, lean body against the counter. His slacks still hung off his hips and his shirt was unbuttoned. “The crust will be crispier.”

“I figured as much.” Amelia sighed and nodded her head at the black microwave with the bright turquoise digital numbers counting down as a timer for the oven. “I wonder if buying this was a mistake. Grandmamma will never use it.”

“I'm surprised she doesn't have one already.” Nate folded his arms across his chest. His biceps flexed. Amelia wondered if it was possible to christen the kitchen in the ten minutes set for the oven.

“Because Grandmamma doesn't strike you as a patient woman?” Amelia smarted off.

“Leave my friend alone,” Nate teased. “Let's find something else to do while we wait for the timer to go off.”

Amelia's left brow rose in inquiry. “For eight minutes? Why, Mr. Reyes,” she said in her Southern drawl, “you disappoint me.”

Before the smirk fully spread across her face, Nate once again tossed her over his shoulder and headed up the stairs. Amelia squealed with laughter and feigned being a damsel in distress, loving every minute of his hard, muscular body manhandling her. When was the last time she'd had this much fun with a man?

“No one can save you now.” Nate went along with the bit. He made his way up the stairs, careful of her head as he turned the corners to get to her bedroom.

Hanging upside down, Amelia reached for her brass doorknob and pushed the door closed seconds before Nate tossed her on the bed. Her stomach quivered with desire. Nate touched her toes and gave them a little squeeze. Amelia leaned up on her elbows and spread her legs, inviting him inside. A deep breath lodged in her throat just before he entered her. The breath turned into a startled gasp as someone pounded on her door.

“Is it me—” Nate leaned his body against hers “—or are we interrupted every time we make love in a bed?”

“Just half the time.” Amelia covered her face with her hands. The pounding continued before she realized it wasn't her bedroom door being knocked on, but the stairs.
What the hell?

“Amelia,” Grandmamma's voice called out. “Is that you up there? I know you don't have a boy up in the room with you.”

Chapter 10

T
he last time Nate had been forced to hide for a woman was a few weeks ago, moments before Amelia had opened the door to her angry colleague. Now he sat at his dining room table with his leg propped up, his knee sore from landing too hard on it after scaling down Amelia Marlow's bathroom window. It was a wonder he didn't break his neck, but he didn't want to have his neck broken by Helen Marlow. So far, the woman with the ornery reputation liked him and he wanted to stay in her good graces.

“You're not fifteen anymore.” Stephen frowned, coming in from the kitchen with a fresh pack of ice.

“You don't say?” Nate responded and accompanied that with an eye roll. He'd hobbled into his SUV and made his way home in time to catch Lexi slinking out of the house he shared with his brother. Though he'd checked in on his nieces every day for their first week of school, he still felt like he hadn't been home in months. He missed the cotton-candy smell of Philly's clothes folded neatly in a white plastic laundry basket. He missed stumbling across the array of Kimber's colorful cell phones. Even though he'd agreed to allow Jeanette and Enzo to take the girls with them overnight, a part of him regretted it. Walking through the doors and not being attacked by hugs and kisses made him feel strangely empty.

“What kind of example are you setting for the girls?” Stephen continued to lecture.

Nate sat up farther in the high-back chair to accept the freezing bag. He pulled up the hem of his red basketball shorts and rested the bag over his knee where the skin displayed a bright red, puffy sight. “The girls are with Jeanette and Enzo.”

“And how long do you plan on sneaking around?”

Nate wasn't sure where his brother was going with this. “What?” His eyebrows rose.

“You were able to tell the girls last week the reason you were gone was because of the commitment you made for the bachelor auction.”

Nate raised his pointer finger in the air. “An auction you
volunteered
me for.”

“I didn't volunteer you to spend the nights at her place.”

“Well,” Nate said, shrugging his shoulders, “as I explained to the girls already, I slept in the barn.”

“Fine, but your job with Amelia is done. Now what?” Stephen took a seat opposite his brother. “Her grandmother is back from the hospital.”

“I'm not going to disrespect her grandmother's house, if you're worried about that,” said Nate, toying with a stray piece of wicker from the basket on the center of the table.

A bowl of fruit sat on the table before him—one of Lexi's influences. Prior to her coming, their table usually had pizza boxes stacked on it. In fact, the dining room at Amelia's grandmother's place reminded him of their pre-Lexi days. From what he'd learned of Amelia, he knew she stayed busy. Now that she didn't have a job, would she become more domesticated? He'd hoped hanging out with her old friends would inspire her to stay. Lexi utilizing Amelia's skills as a videographer was genius. He hoped that when he met up with Amelia later on today she'd be excited about putting together the footage for Sam and Emily. He wished she'd want to stay. And then what?

“The whole reason Amelia came back to Southwood was to take care of her grandmother. What happens when she leaves?” Stephen's question reiterated Nate's thoughts. “Before she came, you were going through the women in town.”

“I haven't gone through all the women.”

“Not all.” Stephen nodded. “But you've gone through enough of them, telling them to back away because you
don't do complicated
.” Stephen made air quotes with his hands. “You've been running through the women, leaving all of them thinking you might take them as your date for Sam's wedding.”

“Give me a break, big brother.” Nate sighed and shook his head. “I never once gave any of the ladies I've dated—”

“Dated?” Stephen interrupted with a raised brow and another set of air quotes.

“I never gave them the inkling I wanted to take anyone to the wedding. I didn't think I'd want to attend.”

“Until you met Amelia?”

“I thought you liked Amelia?” asked Nate.

“Amelia is great, but you've felt this need to cover for her because you got her fired.”

“I'm not covering for her,” said Nate. “I'm trying to get her to find a reason to stay in town.”

“So you two can what? Sneak around?”

“Date.” The usually awkward word rolled off Nate's lips with ease. True, he'd never committed himself to one single lady, but he wanted to give it a try with Amelia. The idea of dating Amelia didn't scare him, but rather relaxed him. This seemed natural.

Stephen paused his lecture to cock his head to the side. “You said she was fired, Nate.” Stephen shook his head and pressed his hands against the table. “She doesn't have a job.”

Nate shrugged his shoulders, biting back the ounce of pain he'd gotten from brushing up against the brick wall in his attempt to hide from Helen Marlow.
“Yet,”
he corrected his brother. “Amelia doesn't have a job yet and the lease on her apartment is almost up. This is perfect timing.”

“You're going to take her on as a client?”

Part of Reyes Realty and Contracting meant selling homes. The brothers were so successful in their business back in Atlanta that they'd been able to concentrate on their nieces without having to worry about work and clients. Nate was good at selling and finding dream homes for people. He preferred the hands-on part when they flipped homes.

Stephen gave a skeptical clearing of his throat. “So you think you're enough to keep her here?”

“Amelia's grandmother is here, and her cousin.”

“From my understanding, her grandmother doesn't like too many people, her granddaughter included.”

Shaking his head, Nate chuckled. “Haven't you learned your lesson listening to rumors?”

“We're talking about you, little brother.”

“Whatever.”

“No, not whatever.” Stephen's voice became sterner, reminding Nate of their father moments before he laid down the law. “Let's talk about the next week or so Amelia is in town. How do you plan on conducting yourself with Kimber and Philly in the house?”

“I'm going to start off with inviting Amelia over for dinner, hang out with us so she'll see the perks of staying in town, and then I'm bringing her to the Crystal Coquí Ball.”

Stephen choked on his words. “What? I don't understand.”

“Don't worry,” Nate replied with a smug grin, “it's not too complicated.”

* * *

Amelia spent Sunday afternoon pretty much how she did when she lived with Grandmamma—in her room. She wanted to avoid the pressures and questions from the few church patrons who stopped by with a covered dish. After she'd practically pushed Nate out the window, Amelia had gone downstairs to say hello to the visitors and make sure she did not get
the eye
from Grandmamma. She took to the top steps and eavesdropped on Grandmamma bragging about the new ramp Nate Reyes had put in for her. Occasionally she heard the screen door squeak for Grandmamma to show off. The ladies who came to visited hummed and prayed in thanks for a man like Nate Reyes. Their form of thankful prayer might have turned more into gossip about the time each of the ladies caught a glimpse of Nate playing basketball down at the park with their own grandchildren, or running into him at the store. According to what Amelia learned from the church ladies, domestication made Nate sexy as hell.

Twenty-four hours later Grandmamma still did not mention anything about Nate sneaking out of the house, but so as to not borrow trouble, Amelia took off the moment Grandmamma asked for a new bag of ice. Amelia guessed her friends drank all the iced tea. Besides, getting out of the house felt liberating. A few days ago, Amelia had wanted to spend her time in Southwood hiding, since she'd been too afraid of running into anyone. But thanks to talking to folks at Emily's wedding, Amelia had learned her senior exposé had done more good to the community than harm. Too bad she didn't plan to stick around to find out how people's attitude to her had changed.

The black cell phone in her purse came to life as Amelia pulled into the Piggly Wiggly parking lot and put her car in Park. When she answered her phone, she thought she might have sung her greeting. Her toes wiggled in the jeweled flip-flops on her feet.

“Well, someone sure is in a good mood.”

“Rory,” Amelia exclaimed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear to better hear. “How are you?”

“I'm fine.” Rory laughed into the receiver. “Small-town life is treating you well?”

A shiver ran down Amelia's spine. The temperature had crept up to eighty-five degrees and it was only eight thirty in the morning. One man made being back in town better. “Life back home is not as bad as I thought.”

“Does any of this have to do with a particular man?”

Amelia cleared her throat. “I'm not kissing and telling.”

“At least I know you're kissing,” Rory quipped. “Listen here, missy, I know Christopher said you're not allowed to contact anyone in the business but you did not have to leave a message on
my
work phone. I heard your message this morning, and before I get mad at you for not calling me at home, how's your grandmother?”

“Grandmamma?” Amelia shook her head back and forth. “She's fine,” she started off with a slow drawl and filled her friend in on the updates and remodeling.

“Good grief, there
is
a man,” guessed Rory. “The same one you purchased?”

“How'd you know?”

“Natalia demanded to speak to the higher-ups before she took off.”

“Took off?” Amelia scratched her head. A teenager zipped by on a skateboard in front of the automatic doors, triggering the signal for them to open. “What do you mean, took off?”

“She's took off and left everyone in Atlanta.”

A thousand questions ran through Amelia's mind. “Where did she go? Is she okay? What's going on with the show?”

“Postponed for now. The rest of the family went back to their island home in Puerto Rico.”

“And the crew?” The pause on the other end of the line indicated trouble. Amelia let out a whistle. While MET paid their employees well, a lot of bonuses were given to the camera crew if they were able to catch a scandalous conversation or an outrageous act from one of the family members. The camera loved Natalia, but the female public loved her brother Nicholas and often tried to get him in precarious situations. Twitter had been his downfall. Nicholas's bad habit of wanting to let everyone know where he was going often led to a swarm of women waiting to throw themselves at him. The Nicholas crew earned bonuses for every half-naked woman they caught sneaking out of his hotel room.

Amelia imagined Rory shaking her head back and forth. “Nope, you know Christopher does not want you to think about work while you're on leave. Are you ready to come back to work?”

Considering Grandmamma was getting better, Amelia could go back to work, but the image of Nate's face flashed in her mind. He wasn't out of her system.

“Your hesitation tells me you want to extend your stay,” said Rory. “We've got an assistant producer on standby in case Natalia shows up, so you're free to continue your leave.”

“How mad would Mr. Kelly be?”

Rory sighed on the other end of the line. “He's fine with however much time you want to take. Jesus, girl, you haven't taken a break since you started here. Chris didn't think four weeks was going to be enough. Wait until I tell him.”

“Don't tell him everything,” Amelia said, panicked.

“I'll tell him—” Rory faked a cough into the receiver “—you're sick or something.”

Laughing, Amelia shook her head. “You're supposed to be a professional at a multibillion-dollar company.”

“Yes, but I'm your friend first. Take as much time as you need.”

“It's not like I'm never coming back.” Amelia chewed on her bottom lip; her mind wondered what Natalia was up to. First she'd had a secret meeting with an old friend and now this disappearing act. Her fingers itched to call up Natalia.

“Famous last words,” Rory sang before she ended the call.

After hanging up with her friend, Amelia stepped out of her grandmother's Nissan and pulled up the elastic of her black yoga pants before she headed inside the convenience store. Amelia had turned in her rental yesterday afternoon with Pastor Rivers, who volunteered to give her a ride back to the house. It seems since he was the one who found Grandmamma, he'd driven her car to the hospital and had hung on to it until Grandmamma was better.

Amelia let out a sigh with the relief of the pressure of her waistband. All this eating out was putting a damper on her figure. Amelia folded her arms over her faded green, over-washed Florida A&M T-shirt and stood in front of the rack filled with tabloids and glossy magazines with celebrities on the covers. With her forced break from work, she had somewhat lost touch with life in the reality TV world. Two weeks ago, the coverage of the Ruiz family had been crazy. The family had been featured in every magazine. There was no such thing as bad publicity. Rather than every tabloid magazine featuring Natalia and her family, just every other magazine did. However, instead of catching Natalia in some risqué pose or gown, a question mark covered her face.
Have you seen her?
captioned the photos.

Amelia grabbed three magazines and a bag of ice and headed to the register. To avoid her name being recognized by the cashier—a man she remembered being in detention a lot during high school—Amelia paid for her purchases with cash and headed for a quick exit. The sliding glass doors dinged her departure. A group of teenagers skateboarded off the curb of the walkway in front of the convenience store. Despite the temperatures spiking into triple digits, some of the boys wore knit caps over their heads. She shook her head and chuckled, biting back the irony of the boys' flip-flops.