His Southern Sweetheart
“Yes, come,” said Nate with a deep baritone voice. “It will be fun.”
The table in the back of the restaurant, the dimly lit candle, the decadent dessert—it dawned on Amelia this situation might be taken the wrong way. Emily thought they were here as a couple. Amelia shook her head quickly from side to side. “Oh, no, this isn’t what you think.”
Nate reached across the table, covering her hand with his. “Not sure if you heard the story, but Amelia was the highest bidder at last night’s bachelor auction.”
“Aw,” was all Emily said.
Paranoid, Amelia wondered what the “aw” was about. Did Emily find it pathetic that Amelia bought Nate? Did she think the only way she’d get a date was by purchasing one? Amelia surrounded herself on a daily basis with gorgeous, hot men. Hell, after ten years of avoidance, Parker seemed overly eager to spend some time with her. Who wouldn’t want to be around her? She was smart, successful, creative and ambitious. And if she did say so, she was pretty damn good-looking, as well. So why did it bother her what Emily thought?
“Well, I finally have the name of your plus-one, Nate,” Emily said. “I can’t believe you’re really here, Amelia. We have so much to catch up on.”
No, we don’t, Amelia thought. “Again, I’m not one hundred percent sure I’ll be here by Saturday.”
“If you can’t make my wedding,” Emily said, placing a hand on Amelia’s
shoulder, “you should at least come to my bachelorette party Friday night. I have a bridal shower during the day, which of course you are welcome to attend. Mama’s throwing it, so I cannot say for sure how boring it will be.”
The way Emily went on, it was as if she’d forgotten all the drama Amelia had caused with her article. She would have sworn she’d been transported back twenty years and received the itinerary for a sleepover. Amelia wasn’t sure if she needed to grab a shovel for this BS or a shovel to dig her own grave if she agreed to attend any of the events.
Not getting her answer, Emily reached down and gave one last hug before excusing herself. “Just think about it. I’m in the book.”
“You look shocked,” Nate said when they were alone again.
“That Southwood still has phone books?” Amelia commented before picking up her dessert spoon.
“Cute, but you know what I meant. Let’s get back to what we were saying before Emily came over here.”
“What?” She played innocent, batting her lashes at him.
Nate cleared his throat. “Oh, I believe you were about to rattle off all the problems with Southwood.”
Thanks to Emily and all her chatter, the gelato had melted into the coffee. Amelia spooned another bite of the now-extra-sweet coffee. Aware he watched her lips, she curled them over the spoon and licked it clean. “I have my reasons.”
“Sure, because everyone is so horrible here? The nerve,” he scoffed, “of Emily coming over here and inviting you to her wedding. I can’t believe her audacity to invite you to her bachelorette party.” Then to make matters worse, Nate sat back in the booth, folded his arms across his chest and pretended to mope.
Weeks after the article, her friends were no longer hanging out with her. Invites to graduation parties were rescinded. Amelia didn’t expect Nate to understand the misery a teenage girl felt when she was abandoned by her closest pals. So Amelia did the only thing she could think of and threw the rest of her dessert square in the center of his chest before getting up and leaving.
* * *
“You didn’t have to drive me to the hospital.” Amelia took Nate’s gentlemanly hand and allowed him to help her out of the passenger side of his SUV. This was the first they’d spoken since she left him at the table last night. His hooded green eyes dared her to defy the offer of his opened door when she stepped foot onto the porch.
Yesterday afternoon, after she’d listened to the despair in the nurse’s voice, Amelia had made plans to see the medical staff and apologize on behalf of her grandmother. When she’d come down from her shower this morning, Nate was in his suit from Saturday night, wrinkled and disheveled. A part of her was surprised to see him turn his SUV into the driveway last night.
As mad as she was at him, she was grateful he’d interrupted an awkward goodbye. With the pizzeria across the street from the fire station, she couldn’t help but go over and ask for a ride. Parker, as he’d been when they were teenagers, had been all too willing to come to her aid. Just as they had on her porch earlier, he lingered again for a while, apparently wanting to say a lot more. Amelia’s life now did not include having a small-town boyfriend, and having to tell him so again would be just as heartbreaking now as it had been then. Nate’s lights in the rearview mirror had saved her from Parker asking her out again.
“Of course I needed to escort you here,” Nate said. He closed the door behind her but didn’t move, much like the first night he followed her home. “It’s the least I could do, since you didn’t let me drive you home last night.”
“You were being childish.” Amelia’s pink-and-white polka-dotted ballerina flats hit the pavement of the sidewalk. She tugged at the hem of her white T-shirt-material dress so her thighs didn’t show. A string of pink pearls hung around her neck. She wore them for Grandmamma’s sake, who insisted no Southern girl should go out without her pearls.
“You’re going to blame last night on me?” Nate followed her down the pathway toward the hospital.
Amelia stopped walking. Nate trailed so close he bumped into her when she paused. She spun on her heels and craned her neck to look up at him. “I left this town for a reason. I have nothing but bad memories.”
“Your whole life here?”
An Elvis-like curl came over her upper lip. “What does it matter to you if I hate this town or not?”
The front of his shirt expanded with his deep breath. “You’re right. My bad. I was thinking, with you being unemployed now, you might want to stay here.”