His Southern Sweetheart

“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.