The Chocolate Garden (Dare River Book 2)

by Ava Miles

  No matter what Amelia Ann used as a distraction, she simply couldn’t stop herself from stealing glances at Clayton Chandler. Especially after hearing his voice… Who would have thought the man could sing like that?

  Funny how easy it was to forget he was the son of country star Jimmy Ray Chandler. His talent made her wonder why he’d chosen to be part of Rye’s management team with his mama rather than pursuing his own singing career. Great. The last thing she needed was to find him more intriguing…

  Now Clayton was leaning back in one of the white chairs nestled around the packed dance floor, checking his phone. Working, she expected. The man had a passion for it, something they had in common.

  If that wasn’t enough, the thunderbolt of attraction she felt for him rocked her to the core. With his black hair and arresting gray eyes, Clayton personified tall, dark, and handsome.

  He was all man, and she couldn’t help wanting that.

  The first time she’d met him at one of Rye’s concerts, he’d scared the hell out of her…well, he’d scared the hell out of Amelia Ann the debutant. The other side of her, the one she hadn’t yet known what to do with, had been fascinated.

  Now she knew what to do with it, and it didn’t matter that he was seven years older than she was, that he both worked for her brother and was his best friend, or that he ignored her like the plague.

  It was like the man knew she wanted him and was trying to shield himself from her.

  But over these last couple of days, he hadn’t been able to ignore her any more. She’d been his companion in the wedding party, and it had been his job to escort her down the aisle. Those gray eyes had stolen her breath. And the feel of his body next to hers, so strong and muscular, had confirmed what she had suspected since the first time she met Clayton at one of Rye’s concerts.

  He was the man she wanted to be her first.

  Losing her virginity was a big deal to her, and she wanted to choose someone she both desired and respected. That was Clayton. It didn’t have to go any further than that. She wanted to focus on her career, and she was certain he did as well.

  And now that she’d flown the coop and was trying new things, she decided to be bold and ask him to dance. After taking a fortifying drink of her champagne, she skirted the dance floor until she reached him.

  He was typing away on his phone, and she had to clear her voice to get his attention.

  “Miz Hollins?” he drawled, not looking up from his phone. “Something you need?”

  The way he said her name made her feel like she was twelve.

  “My name is Amelia Ann.”

  “That’s a mouthful,” he responded, still typing.

  She wondered what he’d do if she snatched the phone from his hands. “How nice of you to say so,” she drawled back, a little vinegar in her voice this time.

  His fingers stilled, and he set aside the phone finally, looking up at her. God, he reminded her of a black panther, ready to spring. “Something on your mind, Amelia?”

  She didn’t see any point in correcting him, and she’d started going by just Amelia at her internship at the law office. It was more professional.

  Drawing in a breath, she tried to forget this was the first time she’d ever asked a man to dance. Mrs. Augusta—and her mama—would faint dead away at the impropriety. She refrained from glancing over to make sure Mama wasn’t watching what she’d surely term a “slutty spectacle.”

  “It’s customary for the wedding party to dance.”

  “Is it now?” he drawled, his eyes shuttering so only the barest thread of gray could be seen.

  “Yes.” She fought the urge to grab another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and down it.

  “Rye and Tory must have forgotten to mention it.”

  He wasn’t jumping at the chance to dance with her. Why was she surprised? He was always this way with her. “Perhaps you haven’t attended many weddings.”

  “Between Rye’s and Rhett’s, I’ve attended way too many recently. I’m hoping this mad dash to the altar is going to quit with my friends, although… Never mind.”

  So he’d seen the sparks between Tammy and J.P? Tammy was as unsure as a newborn colt, but J.P. seemed patient. He was a sweetheart, and she hoped Tammy would give him a chance. God knew, her sister deserved the love of a good man.

  “Well, are you going to be gallant and dance with me?” she finally asked, calling him out.

  He tipped his head back, studying her. Then he rose, so tall he blocked out the fading afternoon light. “I’m not gallant, and dancing isn’t a good idea. Go play with boys your own age, honey. I’m working.”

  The snide comment burned her, but she was learning from the lawyers she worked with never to show when she was upset…and how to give as good as she got.

  “Afraid to dance with me?”

  His mouth tipped up. “Well now, the debutant has teeth, and she’s only just out of the playroom. Go on now, darlin’. I don’t have time to indulge you.”

  No one had ever talked to her like that. Sure, people in law school and at the firm sometimes gave her constructive criticism, but no one had ever insulted her outright.

  It made her angry, but it also turned her on. Intrigued her.

  This man wouldn’t cater to her every whim. He’d challenge her and expect her to stand on her own, unlike the men she’d known growing up.

  It took her a moment to conjure up a reply that was neither immature nor self-serving. “That’s too bad because while I might be just out of the Southern debutant playroom, I’m more than ready for a turn in the real world. I’d hate for you to miss out on that.”

  The only indication he was affected by her words was his Adam’s apple moving as he swallowed. “Are you still talking about dancing, honey?”

  This time she smiled, like Venus herself. “Why, of course, darlin’! What else could I mean?”

  With that, she turned around in strategic defeat and walked away.

  Chapter 4

  Mama was giving Tammy fantasies of pulling a fainting spell and taking to her bed just to escape. She’d prepared Rye’s wedding breakfast meticulously, and all Mama could do was criticize. The woman had even inspected the silver and found a few utensils with spots on them.

  Tammy had gritted her teeth, but thankfully Amelia Ann had stepped forward to say she’d clean them up right away. They’d shared a glance as her sister left to grab a polishing cloth. Neither wanted to handle Mama alone, so her pretend fainting spell would have to wait. And deep down, she knew it would only scare the kids, who had turned as silent as a graveyard around Mama, reminding Tammy of the unhappy times when she’d been under her thumb with the children in tow.

  Still, it didn’t mean she couldn’t take a turn on the front porch for some air. Big doses of the muggy stuff.

  Tory and Rye, who had stayed in Nashville’s finest hotel the night after the wedding, pulled into the drive and got out of the car, and Tammy watched as her brother stopped and traced his wife’s face, the warm glow between them pinching her heart. She popped behind one of the house’s enormous white pillars to give them privacy.

  “You’d better stop looking at me like that,” Tory said with an impish smile. “I mean it, Rye. I’m not any happier than you are about being here this morning, but we’re doing it for your family. So, for the next few hours before we leave for our honeymoon, I want you to stop looking like you want to swallow me whole and act like the wonderful family man you’ve become.”

  Tammy peered at them from behind the column. They didn’t want to be here? Suddenly she realized why. Of course, it had been different for her. She’d been relieved to go to her own wedding breakfast, still deeply embarrassed, sore, and disappointed from her wedding night.

  “Driving you nuts, am I? Well, we can still duck out. Call and say we decided to leave from the hotel.”

  She arched her brow. “We’re here to help your family get through this visit with your mother. You know that of all of you, Tam
my is the one who has the hardest time being around her.”

  At that, Tammy froze in place and decided not to announce herself. Even her family was talking about her now. Great.

  “Sweetheart, I know you’re a doctor, but last I looked, it was in cultural anthropology, not psychiatry.”

  “It doesn’t take a genius to realize she has unresolved issues with your mother.”

  “Hell, we all have unresolved issues with Mama.”

  She pinched him, which caused him to yelp. “You keep it up, and I’m going to start doling out demerits.”

  “Oh, don’t you sound like a strict teacher.” He grabbed her waist, grinning when she let out a squeak. “What’s the punishment going to be?”

  She swatted his hands away. “You don’t want to know.”

  “Oh, but I do.”

  Tammy jumped as the front door flew open behind her. Annabelle raced ahead of Rory, who was close behind. “Hi, Uncle Rye. Hi, Aunt Tory.”

  Tory teared up as soon as she heard her new title, and it was impossible not to share in her joy. Up until now, the kids had called her Miss Tory at Tammy’s insistence. Another instance of Mrs. Augusta directing her behavior.

  “See! I told you that would make her cry,” Annabelle told her brother.

  Rye ruffled Annabelle’s hair. “Good one, kids.”

  “Good morning,” Tammy finally said, emerging from her hiding place.

  “Hey, darlin’,” Rye said, like they hadn’t just been talking about her.

  “Thanks for coming this morning.”

  “Of course,” her brother fired back easily, belying his earlier comments.

  Rory grabbed Tory’s hand and led her inside. “Mama made me put Bandit in the kennel outside with Banjo and Bullet, but Annabelle’s dog got to stay in her room with the door shut.”

  Tory laughed. “I still can’t believe I’m living in a house with four dogs whose names start with B. And you know your mom let Barbie stay because Barbie always listens, unlike some dogs I know…”

  Yes, and even that wonderfully behaved caramel-coated Shih Tzu, Annabelle’s pride and joy, hadn’t made a dent in Margaret Hollins’ heart. Tammy wasn’t sure anything could.

  Daddy met them in the entryway. “It’s wonderful that you could join us for breakfast before your mama and I head back.”

  “It’s our pleasure.” Tory gave him a kiss on his cheek.

  It made Tammy happy to see her sister-in-law so sweet with Daddy. Mama might be Cruella de Vil —and happy to be that way—but Daddy had become a prince since his heart attack, even if he and Mama were still together. She didn’t understand their relationship, but he’d visited them alone frequently without ever bringing it up, so she’d respected his privacy.

  As if on cue, Mama appeared in the doorway with a mimosa. Her beautiful face could have been carved out of marble by Michelangelo himself it was so cool and hard.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Hollins,” Tory said, her smile less vibrant now.

  It was sad Mama had never asked Tory to call her Margaret, but that was Mama.

  She inclined her head regally.

  “Good morning, Mama,” Rye said, crossing the room. He barely brushed his lips on her smooth cheek.

  A kiss with Mama was mere ceremony anyway. It assured her that she retained some power over her children.

  Amelia Ann came running out of the kitchen. “Hi there, darlin’,” she called to Rye and wrapped her arms around him.

  “Amelia Ann, you know better than to run.”

  Tammy ground her teeth again. If Mama didn’t leave soon, she might end up needing a retainer.

  “I’m sorry, Mama, I plum forgot. I was just so happy to see Rye—and Tory.” She made a show of walking grandly over to Tory and hugging her.

  “Shall we eat?” Tammy asked. “Everything’s ready.”

  Everyone followed her to the dining room, which she’d been fussing over since dawn. The white tablecloth with blue bells embroidered on it had been dry cleaned twice to ensure there wasn’t a wrinkle, and she’d picked an assortment of fresh flowers this morning when the dew was still coating their petals. There shouldn’t have been a single thing for Mama to criticize.

  But of course she’d found plenty.

  Once this was over, she wouldn’t have to see Mama until Amelia Ann got married as far as she was concerned. And that, if her sister’s focus on her career was any indication, would be years away.

  Everyone made their way to their seats, using the elegant, handwritten name cards as a guide.

  Annabelle placed the artfully arranged damask napkin in her lap just like she’d been shown. Of her two children, Annabelle was the most freewheeling and high spirited. She’d had a special talk with her about being a good girl in front of Grandmamma. As a reward, Tammy was going to help her daughter build a princess sand castle in the outdoor sand box after the family matriarch left.

  Breakfast was a quiet affair marked by polite, staid conversation, and it smothered every newly lit fire of enthusiasm for life inside Tammy. Rye hadn’t wanted to invite Mama to the breakfast—heck, the wedding too—but Tory had insisted, saying people could change. Hadn’t the rest of his family? He had reluctantly agreed, but it was clear Mama wasn’t planning to change her ways one bit. She was as immovable as a mountain.

  Daddy guided them gently through this horrible play by commenting on his favorite parts of the wedding. When it came time for sweets and coffee, Tammy nearly protested when Mama rose, saying she would help. Amelia Ann, who well knew what it was like to be alone with Mama, offered to assist them, but their mama flicked aside her comment like she would a Japanese beetle off her prize English roses.

  Though she made it into the kitchen without stumbling, Tammy’s hands weren’t quite steady as she poured freshly brewed coffee into the gold and white patterned Royal Doulton serving pot. One of the delicate cups made a tinkling sound when she bumped it into another.

  She looked over. Mama was wiping the silver serving tray’s edges like it was covered in mud. Tammy would bet money there wasn’t a spot on it. She’d made sure of it.

  “It was nice of you to host the wedding breakfast, Tammy. There was so little tradition to this wedding. I’m surprised they even bothered to have a preacher, though of course they had to be different and choose a female one.”

  Tammy pressed her hands on the table, biting her lip. Don’t respond. Don’t respond.

  “Seriously, Tammy, you appear to be close to that Simmons woman. How could you have let her choose red as her bridal color? It’s simply not done.”

  Right now it felt like a china cabinet had fallen on top of her, squeezing out all her breath.

  “A bride’s colors should be pale and elegant. Like the champagne blush we selected for your wedding.” Mama put the dust cloth aside, apparently satisfied, and began to layer the homemade éclairs on the tray. “Now that was what a wedding was supposed to look like.”

  And that was all it took for her nerves to snap. “My wedding was a farce, Mama. You can dress it up all you want, but it was a mistake.”

  Mama shook her head and fussed with making the éclairs line up perfectly. “You’ve grown hard, Tammy. I’ve heard that happens to divorced women. You should have taken Sterling back, but it’s too late now. You know, he’s been seeing the Kensleys' daughter, Erica, for a while now. Marietta Kensley privately told me there will be wedding bells in the future, but they want to wait until your divorce has been final for a year. Anything less and people talk.”

  That poor woman. She recalled a picture-perfect doll type like herself, but younger. “No, I hadn’t heard.”

  And honestly she was relieved. It would mean Sterling was truly out of her life for good. He hadn’t spoken with the children once since taking the million dollars from Rye, and there was no part of her that mourned his absence from their lives.

  Mama joined her and began to rearrange the coffee cups, turning the handles so they all pointed in the same direction. “See,
that looks better, Tammy.” She ran a polished fingertip over the porcelain handle. “Marietta wanted me to ask you to return the Morrison family wedding ring. They want Sterling to give it to Erica.”

  Her mama was relaying messages from Sterling’s family now? Tammy expected nothing but betrayal from her mother, but her stomach still burned with pain. She hadn’t thought about giving the ring back, and he hadn’t asked for it. Flushing it down the toilet had been impulsive, but it had elated her even though she’d needed to put her head between her knees to fight off the dizziness.

  “It’s bad taste to use it on a second marriage, Mama. We both know that.”

  Her mother’s smile could have cut bread, clean down the middle. “It’s been in the family for four generations, Tammy.”

  “Giving it back was not in the divorce papers, Mama.” She wouldn’t tell her mother what she’d done with it, not in a million years. “Sterling will have to buy another ring.”

  “Tammy Lynn, you are being petulant. It’s a Morrison family heirloom.”

  “That’s unfortunate, Mama. Sterling should have had the foresight to ask for it back during the divorce proceedings. Besides, with all the money Rye paid him to give me a divorce and sole custody of the children, he should be able to buy Erica an even nicer ring.” Not that Sterling had ever been poor in the first place. Far from it.

  “I don’t want to hear that gauche settlement mentioned ever again. It’s embarrassing and appalling.”

  “Mama, the settlement was Sterling’s idea. If you have a problem with it, you should take it up with him. I can never pay Rye back—I know that—but the kids and I are better off than we’ve ever been.”

  “Fine, Tammy Lynn, I can appreciate your perspective.”

  Mama only demurred when she thought her tactics weren’t working, so Tammy braced for a new assault.

  “However, Rory and Annabelle’s daddy is getting remarried at some point. You should let the children go to his wedding. Marietta enlisted my help in convincing you. A man shouldn’t be separated from his children, especially for such a big event. It’s just not right, and it would look terrible to outsiders.”