His Southern Sweetheart (15 page)

“I'd be careful of smiling like that.”

“What?” Amelia's attention was drawn to the hot guy leaning against the hood of her grandmother's car. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Nate in a pair of black basketball shorts, a T-shirt and a pair of athletic slides covering his bare feet. With his arms folded across his chest, she got a peek at the tattoo peeping out from the V of his shirt. She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling too hard.

“Your smile is capable of melting your bag of ice.” Nate pushed away from her car to meet her. He took the bag from her hand, letting his thumb stroke across her wrist. Her heart raced. “Let me get this.”

“Are you stalking me?” Amelia teased. She tucked the magazines under her arm for fear of being ridiculed.

“If I am?” He took her keys from her other hand and walked toward the trunk.

Amelia cocked her head to the side and enjoyed the view. “I'm not complaining.”

“So I've caught you in a good mood?”

“You're the second person to point out my demeanor. Am I normally a grouch?”

Nate winked. “I'm not answering the question on grounds I'm planning on kissing you later.”

With a playful groan, Amelia rolled her eyes. “I'm in a good mood because I'm out of the house.”

“Did your grandmother find evidence of me being there and threaten to ground you?” Nate opened and shut the trunk and joined Amelia as she leaned against the door of the driver's side of her vehicle. Nate had parked his SUV next to hers and stood with his back to his passenger door and his feet stretched toward hers.

“No, she hasn't mentioned you being there—” Amelia cringed at the next thought “—which only leads me to believe she was already in the house when we returned because she didn't block your car in the driveway.”

With a low whistle, Nate shook his head. “We didn't do anything in the house.”

A flash of what they did do flared against the pit of her stomach. “No, there was the incident in the car.”

Nate tossed a glance off his shoulder. A slow smile spread across his face. “Yeah, but that side of the door faced the woods.”

“And the ramp?” Amelia reminded him. The bay window sat right above the spot where they'd wickedly made love. Grandmamma may have had a bird's-eye view of the whole event—which made her wonder why she didn't mention it this morning.

Nate's clearing of his throat brought Amelia out of her mortification. “We need to not have this conversation.”

“About where my grandmother may have spied us having sex?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because—” Nate closed the gap between them “—all this sex talk is arousing me. I've got these ballers on and there's a group of teenage boys I'd rather not have see me go with a full-on adolescent, uncontrollable boner.”

“What?” Amelia keeled over with laughter.

“Great, making fun of me now?”

“I'm sorry,” she said, trying to cover her mouth to keep from laughing. One of the magazines slipped and they both reached for it, knocking their heads at the same time. Nate clasped Amelia's shoulders. His eyes scanned the cover and his brows rose with concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“I'm fine.” More than a twinge of guilt racked Amelia's frame at his concern. Nate felt guilty for getting her fired—or at least he was still under the impression she'd given him. Why didn't she let him off the hook and tell him the truth?
Why bother?
she argued with herself. Wasn't she already in too deep? She gave herself a few more weeks with Nate just to feel things out.

“Perhaps you shouldn't drive,” he suggested.

“Not drive?” Amelia pulled away; her brows drew together in confusion. “I live right around the corner. What's up?”

“Sorry,” Nate said. His flashy smile changed the somber mood between them. “I am not used to asking a pretty lady out on a date.”

“Date?” Amelia's brows drew together again. If she didn't stop frowning, she might end up with a permanent wrinkle between her eyebrows. “We're beyond dating.”

“In your book.” Nate stepped closer. He enclosed her with his arms pressed against the hood of her door.

Excitement coursed through Amelia's veins. She licked her lips and glanced up at him. The sun caught his emerald green eyes. “Lord Jesus.”

The boys on skateboards skated by with catcalls and whistles. Amelia hid her face in Nate's shoulder. He smelled of fresh soap. The neatly trimmed goatee lay against the smooth, honey-hued jawline.

“Seriously, though,” Nate said, pressing a kiss against her temple, “what do you have planned today?”

“Nothing but running errands for Grandmamma. What about you?”

“Running errands for the girls.” Nate laced his fingers with hers. Their fingers fit perfectly, just as everything else between them did. “Let's do them together.”

“Errands together, huh?” Why did the idea excite her so much?

“Woman, you haven't experienced an afternoon of errands with me until we've tasted all the samples at kiosk stands at the grocery store, tried out all the exercise and massage displays.”

And who would have guessed such domestication would have sounded so exciting?

* * *

A morning spent running errands had never been more romantic. After he followed her home to drop off the ice and say good morning to Mrs. Marlow, Nate and Amelia took off for the rest of the day. In the evening, he dropped her back to her grandmother's house and held hands with her once again as Amelia walked him to the front door. The sun had already set over the peach trees lining the edge of the Marlows' lawn.

“May I see you again tomorrow?” Nate asked politely. Whether she said yes or no didn't matter. He'd enjoyed himself so much today he decided they were going to spend every day together until they left for Villa San Juan—something he still needed to sell her on.

“Aren't you so formal?” asked Amelia, cocking her head to one side.

Nate leaned forward. “Well, you never know when your grandmother might be at the window watching.”

Under the early moon's light, Amelia's cheeks reddened. “Don't remind me.”

“I'll try but it's going to be hard.”

“No pun intended, I bet.”

Glancing down at his basketball shorts, Nate could not hide the desire rising in him. What was it about Amelia that had him as immature as the skateboarders outside the Piggly Wiggly this morning? “I meant hard in the sense of I'm not sure how long I can go without being able to touch you.”

Amelia held their hands up in the air. “We're touching now.”

“You know what I'm talking about.” In case she wasn't sure, Nate leaned forward and planted a kiss against her juicy lips. She still tasted like the apple-pie ice cream she'd taught Kimber and Philly to make after school. Amelia let go of his hand and ran her fingers along his stomach and up toward his chest, where his heart beat fast from her mere touch. Nate captured her hand with his and pulled it down toward their sides and broke the kiss.

“We have next weekend.”

“What weekend?”

“Labor Day.” Nate copied her earlier move and cocked his head to the side. “Remember, my family has a little gathering. I saw the magazines you picked up today. Maybe getting out of town will take your mind off your old life.”

Amelia chewed on her bottom lip and looked away for a moment before she squinted her eyes as if she remembered something. “I thought you told me you wore a tux to this thing.”

“You're imagining me in one right now, aren't you?”

“I'm trying to imagine how you interpret tuxedo into a little gathering.” Amelia poked the center of his chest.

“So you'll come?”

Before she got the chance to answer, a clanging sound pierced the early night. A dog howled somewhere in the distance and a flock of black birds flew away from the treetops behind Amelia's house. The two of them gave each other a slow glance. Nate motioned with his finger toward his lips, then motioned for her to stand still. He stepped off the bottom step and stalked down the ramp to the screened-in breezeway connecting the barn and the house. The bathroom window he'd jumped out from the other night was left open. Broken branches lay limp in the gardenia bush. An evening gust of wind whipped through the yard, knocking a tin pot over, revealing the culprit—a small dog had torn through a hole in the screen. In the darkness, Nate could not tell the breed but judging from the bark he had nothing to fear.

“Puffy,” Amelia exclaimed, coming up behind Nate. Apparently Pastor Rivers had been holding on to the dog since her grandmother's accident.

He turned, lips pursed, sure he'd told her to stay back. “Puffy?” he asked dryly.

The fluffy dog leaped into Amelia's arms. “Don't blame me. My grandmamma has a thing for Sean Combs.”

Nate shook his head, not sure he'd ever be surprised by this family. A light came and went off as quickly as it came on. “Your grandmother's home?”

“She should be.” Amelia's brows rose.

“Stay here, and I mean it this time.”

Amelia saluted with a half smile. Her sarcasm turned him on. He'd deal with her later but for now he wanted to make sure everything was okay in the Marlow household. Nate entered the breezeway through the screened-in porch and then into the back hall by the kitchen. Shuffling, like furniture moving around, came from Helen Marlow's new bedroom.

“I have a gun,” Helen shouted.

“Mrs. Marlow, it's Nate Reyes.”

“Who?”

Nate cleared his throat. He didn't recall Helen having memory problems. Maybe an extended nap in the quiet afternoon disorientated her. “Nate. I'm a friend of Amelia's.”

“Parker?”

The reminder of Amelia's former beau was unnecessary. Nate cleared his throat deeper. “No, ma'am. It's Nate Reyes, I've brought Amelia home. Hang on a sec.” Nate moved away from the door back into the kitchen and knocked on the window to motion at Amelia to come inside. In a matter of seconds Amelia appeared in the doorway, scruffy dog in hand.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

“Tell your grandmother who I am.”

Brows drawn together, Amelia sighed and walked down the hall to her grandmother's door. “Grandmamma, open up.”

“What do you want?” Helen barked instead of really asking.

“Grandmamma, why do you have the door locked?”

“Because you got strange men in my house at all times of the night,” said Helen, opening her door just a crack.

Something about this situation seemed familiar. Nate tugged the hairs of his goatee and grinned, remembering his first night with Amelia and her former boss. The humor rising from his gut ceased at the memory. Today, they'd spent time touring the town. He wanted to be the one to take her around and show her all the changes and entice her into staying.

Amelia huffed, blowing a lock of her hair out of her eyes, and pushed away from Helen's door, taking Nate's hand in hers. Nate wanted more than anything to take her upstairs into her bedroom, but he stood still.

Amelia glanced upward. “Everything okay?”

The moonlight spilling in from the kitchen window framed her face with a halo. Nate pulled his hands from hers to cup her face. “Everything will be perfect if you agree to go away with me next weekend.”

“What?” Amelia's voice echoed through the halls. “You're serious, aren't you?”

“As ever.”

“Will Natalia be there?”

Nate shrugged his shoulders, knowing good and well she might. “I don't know.”

“Will the folks from the school shooting be there?”

“Some of them,” answered Nate, pressing his lips as he thought of his cousin in Orlando. Marisol Torres refused to ever step foot on the island again.

“What do you think of me doing a human interest story?” Amelia pressed on.

“Absolutely not.”

Amelia's lips twisted to the left. “Well, who's going to be there?”

“Um,” Nate hummed and pressed his lips against Amelia's. “Me?”

“Can I think about it?”

Trying to contain his disappointment, Nate smiled and brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. “I suppose that's better than a no. May I see you tomorrow?”

“Sorry.” Amelia shook her head back and forth. “I've got to go over some footage with Lexi tomorrow and then we're heading down to Tallahassee to scout out some clients.”

Nate's heart raced with excitement. He bit the inside of his cheek to contain himself. “Well, all right then.” He sighed, feigning disappointment. “Let me know when the two of you return. Maybe we can get together for dinner.”

“Maybe,” Amelia said, taking his hands and walking him to the door.

“Still better than a no.” Nate kissed her once more before exiting the Marlow household and jumping down the porch stairs. His plan of getting Amelia to stay was working.

Chapter 11

“I
'm so embarrassed for you.” Kimber Reyes gave a droll eye roll at her uncle before covering her face with embarrassment after Nate flipped a burger and gave a spin in front of the brick grill by the pool in the backyard of the Reyes home. A bright orange flame hissed out of the iron grates.

Glad she'd decided to come today, Amelia hid her giggle behind a feigned cough into the crook of her arm at the interaction between uncle and niece. Her arms smelled like a combination of strawberries and peaches from the gallons of ice cream she'd made up this morning and had chilling in the deep freezer.

“Traitor,” said Nate over his shoulder where Amelia stretched out on a lawn chair.

Since the Reyeses weren't going to be in town next week for the three-day weekend, the uncles had decided to throw a pool party for Kimber and Philly's friends and neighbors for a pre-Labor Day celebration. Nate and Stephen had opened up the two-story split-level brick home that once belonged to their brother, Ken, and his wife. Amelia remembered Betty Gravel-Reyes with great fondness. Betty would have been proud of the lengths Nate and Stephen Reyes were going to to raise the girls.

It was also nice to see Jeanette and Enzo Gravel firmly established in their granddaughters' lives. Amelia understood why they had not contested Ken and Betty's will. But age did not stop them from being involved. Currently, the grandparents were blowing bubbles into the air over the pool while Philly and her friends jumped into the clear blue water to catch them.

Red, white and blue pinwheels surrounding the lagoon-style pool spun with the warm wind. The smaller children found the whimsical toys interesting and pulled some up out of the remarkably green grass to have a blowing contest. Kimber took a few minutes out of her time from entertaining a few girls and boys from her school to come and talk to Amelia.

Not having grown up with younger kids around her, Amelia found the hazel-eyed girl amusing. But she understood how the teenager would be embarrassed by things Nate or Stephen did. She remembered how humiliating it had been for herself when her father would moonwalk around on the floor of The Scoop as if he were Michael Jackson. To make things worse, their ice-cream parlor had been the local hangout of teenagers for the majority of her life here in Southwood. Amelia did not mind the little spin Nate did in his apron and bare chest. He wore a pair of green swim trunks which hung slightly off his waist and to his knees. When he took the apron off, Amelia found herself dumbfounded at the sight of the V-formation of his abs.

“Not a traitor, more like a sympathizer,” Amelia explained with a stutter. Nate had that kind of effect on her whenever he flashed a grin. With his backyard barbecue and Southern hospitality, he certainly made a life in Southwood foreseeable. “I understand Kimber's pain.”

“See,” Kimber said. She beamed and poked her tongue out at her uncle. “You're being a pain.”

Amelia chuckled and decided not to correct the girl. She commiserated with her pain, but as a woman she enjoyed watching Nate's muscles glisten with sweat under the blaring sun. Not like she'd tell him, though. Nate could use a bit of humility. Among the guests at the party were a lot of the mothers from Philly's pageant class. They had no shame when it came to the revealing bathing suits they wore or how high their heels were at a pool party. She'd heard the old saying, “The higher the heel, the closer to heaven,” and these ladies truly needed Jesus. One mother of a younger boy bent over blatantly, straight-legged, in front of the grill to “admire” the pink perennials as she showed off
her
flower.

Territoriality was not a thing Amelia experienced often unless it came to her assignments. She loathed the idea of a man like William Vickers getting her prized executive producer position. In the early stages of her career as an assistant to the executive producers, she was paid handsomely to egg on jealousy between some of the houseguests in her reality shows. She'd point out the attention one girl received from a lusted-after man or even how one girl copied another's dress style. But she herself experiencing possessiveness over a man? The notion was crazy... Although if someone gave her a dollar for each heavy sigh and eye roll she gave today, she'd be a millionaire before Nate and Stephen served lunch.

Karma was biting her in the ass with a heap load of insecurities, as well. Hell, she followed glamorous women around all the time, and she'd never felt the intensity of self-doubt as she did today. She sat here wearing a red halter-top, one-piece suit feeling like a plump tomato while these women who'd given birth sported svelte figures. She didn't expect Nate to have been a saint prior to meeting her, but she did wonder which of these women made up his days-of-the-week girls.

“Miss Amelia,” began Kimber, “is it true you've worked with music producers?”

What Amelia had learned about Kimber was the girl loved the world of celebrities. “I have. Are you interested in meeting one?”

“I do love to sing.”

A long list of singing competitions came to mind. Kimber would make the perfect contestant on any of the shows. She was young and gorgeous with a heart-tugging backstory. America would fall in love with her.

“I know that look.” Cay interrupted Amelia's thoughts. “You've got a pitch going on in your head.”

“A pitch?” uncle and niece chorused.

“My cousin has this knack of turning everything she comes across into a reality show,” Cay continued, ignoring Amelia's death stare that was willing her to shut up. The cousins had met up at Grandmamma's to prepare the ice-cream treats for this afternoon. They'd rummaged through the barn for novelty items such as the old-fashioned red-and-white ice-cream stand equipped with a red-and-white striped tarp, under which the kids loved hanging out in the shade while poring over the wide variety of treats. Along with the standard flavors of ice cream like chocolate and vanilla, they'd also made peach, strawberry and even bubblegum ice cream. Though Amelia informed Cay that she still hadn't told Nate the truth about her employment status, she did not want this barbecue to be the place for the discussion.

“Yeah, I recognize that look.” Nate studied Amelia's face and shook his head back and forth. “Too bad there will be no reality shows here, not in this household.” Nate frowned.

A twinge of hurt tugged at Amelia's heart. Her bottom lip poked out. “You haven't even heard my pitch.”

“It doesn't matter,” said Nate, turning his back to the burgers and hot dogs. “My niece won't be involved.”

“Don't be mean, Uncle Nate.”

“Who?”

Kimber sighed in annoyance. “
Tío
Nate. And don't change the subject. Let's listen to what Miss Amelia has to say about my singing career.”

“Miss Amelia,” Nate clipped, “doesn't have a say in your nonexistent singing career.”

The fun, sun-loving, pool-splashing atmosphere continued as Amelia swallowed her feelings. The pangs stemming from her heart vibrated through her body. Nate's icy tone reminded her of the scolding and sometimes cursing out she received from contestants after she purposely manipulated a situation just to get a money shot. Over the years, she'd done some shady things, but producing reality shows was her life. And from the tone in his voice she could tell he despised her lifestyle. Had his back not been turned, she probably would have seen his upper lip curled.

“Don't pay him any attention,” said Kimber, patting Amelia's hand. The girl's bright smile cheered her up a bit. “He doesn't know good television. Let's talk about Natalia. Do you know where she is?”

“Unfortunately, I don't,” Amelia answered, though she wondered if the star of the show was hiding in retaliation. “I'm starting to get worried.”

“Well, if you ask me, I think Natalia is tired of living her life in front of the camera.” Kimber's perception gave Amelia reason to pause.

“You think?”

Kimber shrugged her shoulders. “She didn't seem happy.”

“What?”

“Every time the camera caught her in the background of her brother Nicholas or her sister Natasha, she got this far-off kind of look. Natasha's preparing for a wedding and Nicholas is always dating. Maybe Natalia wants to settle down.”

Hmm, Natalia settling down? A
Bachelorette
type of show? The ideas flew into her mind.

Dear MET executives,

With the Ruiz family climbing the reality TV charts, I would like to schedule a pitch session to discuss
The Road to Ruiz Love
.

Sincerely,

Amelia

“Is that the look when she's got an idea?” Kimber half whispered to Cay.

“Yep, that's it all right.”

Amelia blinked back in focus in time to catch Nate shaking his head in disapproval. What did she need his approval for? This was her career she was thinking about. Backyard barbecues were one thing, but were they the rest of her life? Amelia sighed inwardly. She had a lot of thinking to do over the next few days.

* * *

“I have the perfect dress for you.”

Amelia glanced up at the video footage she'd been editing all day long. The only time she recalled moving from the computer was to put on her favorite comfy, army-green hooded jacket from the coatrack by Lexi's office door. As she worked, whether she had multiple monitors to edit or one, Amelia had turned the lights off. When Lexi entered her office, the light from the main floor spilled through, blinding Amelia like a vampire. She ducked behind the monitor and clutched her heart.

“Sorry.” Lexi cocked her head and grinned. She reached for the light switch with her long purple nails that matched her sparkly tutu. According to the chaotic whiteboard schedule, the afternoons were dedicated to a dance rehearsal led by Chantal Hairston, Lexi's right-hand woman for the pageant coaching. Amelia couldn't help observing the contrast in the way she and Lexi were dressed. While Lexi looked like a prima ballerina, here Amelia sat in her faded comfy jeans and an old red Southwood High T-shirt.

“I thought the bell over the door didn't ding when I came back into the store,” Lexi continued, stepping farther into her office, but she turned to glance at the front door to the shop. “Damn it, I'm probably going to have to get a new bell. I can't have customers sneaking in on me. You never know what I might be doing with the hot new neighbor.”

The hot new neighbor, as Amelia had learned last week, was none other than Stephen Reyes. He ran the new real estate and contracting agency in town. Over one of their dinners, Nate had shared with Amelia information about the business he and his brother owned. The brothers did a lot of scouting for television and movie execs—namely for MET—which probably explained Nate's ability to contact Natalia so easily. She hinted again for the real story, but he declined—as always. Each brother had their own niche in the business. Stephen worked more with the Hollywood folks in the aspect of helping people get into their dream homes. Most of the homes, as Amelia understood, were replicas of iconic houses from the movies. If the frame of the desired homes needed work, Nate stepped in to reconstruct the buildings. Amelia understood Nate's passion for tweaking the homes exactly how the home buyers wanted them to be.
The man was good with his hands
. Amelia rolled her eyes at her new friend and shook her head, not expecting the crick in her shoulders.

Three of the mandatory weeks were already up. When was the last time she'd woken up in the same bed for a full week? Two months ago, Amelia was jet-setting across the country. The mere thought of staying in one place for any amount of time seemed dull, and yet, these last few weeks had flown by.

Amelia had traveled to and from Grits and Glam Gowns in Grandmamma's car and never once complained about being stuck behind a tractor. She didn't bat an eye when someone parked their horse in a diagonal spot in front of the coffee shop on the corner. The road trips she took with Lexi and her Glam Squad never maxed more than two hours and the largest body of water they crossed was the Flint River.

This morning Amelia had arrived just after eight and judging from the clock in the right-hand corner of the monitor she used, the sun was about to set. Where was Nate? The last time she'd laid eyes on him, or hands, for that matter, he'd walked her to the front doors of Grits and Glam Gowns. He'd placed his hands on the rim of the door to stop himself from entering and defiling the gowns in his future sister-in-law's store. Maybe during their heated kiss, he'd knocked the bell off-kilter. Amelia adored Nate, but as these weeks flew by, so had the time they had to be intimate. Since Grandmamma's return from the hospital, Nate had become the ultimate choir boy. Was it possible to miss someone—sexually—after a few times?

Cheeks flushed at the memory, Amelia fanned her face. “My goodness, I forgot how time flies when editing.”

“So you think you can come up with something?” Lexi asked, strutting across the length of her office.

“Not just something,” Amelia bragged, “some things.”

“I hope this hasn't been too much trouble.”

“Not at all.” Amelia waved off the notion. “I've come up with the perfect video for you to give Emily and Sam.” She beamed. “I also took the liberty of putting together footage for you to give your potential clients. I like the regular portfolio, but sometimes having a visual of what it looks like to win helps. I noticed you've built your clientele based on each pageant win and word of mouth. This way you'll have a portfolio potential pageant clients can see.”

“Let me see.” Lexi came over to Amelia's side of the desk and leaned over to view what Amelia had come up with.

Amelia waited, nervous at Lexi's response. The bubbles in the pit of her stomach were refreshing. When was the last time she'd gotten excited and nervous over her job?
Damn, she missed working
. Sure, the bubbles of excitement welled inside of her body when she thought of seeing Nate again, too; the two feelings were very similar. One, however, gave her orgasms.