“We should have ordered a small one to share,” said Amelia.
“I’m greedy.” Nate swiped his spoon across the chocolate shavings on his dessert. “I don’t share.”
A familiar pang of desire that tugged inside her stomach had her somehow wishing he wasn’t talking about the dessert. “You don’t have an ounce of fat. I don’t know how or when I’m going to work all of this off.”
“I’ll help you.” Nate’s eyes now narrowed on her. This time she understood he wasn’t talking about the dessert.
Amelia cleared her throat, hoping to keep the heat of the threatening blush from being exposed. “Tell me more about this Crystal Coquí. Why is it embarrassing?”
“I used to think it was more of a way for my family to feel better about themselves.”
“Better?” Amelia’s inquisitive nature was piqued. Natalia mentioned Nate came from a good family.
“Ah, it’s probably my pops talking.” He shook his head as if to get the notion out of his mind. Amelia leaned forward, literally on the edge of her seat. She wanted to learn everything about this man. Lord only knew when she’d get a chance to be around someone not in the business again.
“Tell me.”
“My dad, Esteban Reyes,” Nate began after one big bite, “he always felt he needed to compete with my mom’s family, the Torreses.”
“Compete how?”
“I guess when you marry into the family whose ancestors discovered the island, there is a bit a pressure.”
“Your family founded a city?”
By the time Nate finished telling the story about the claim his grandfather many times over had staked on the island, located off the northwest coast of Florida, from the famous explorer Tristán de Luna y Arellano, Amelia was in awe.
The young explorer had tried to establish the Pensacola Bay area but was not successful. Hurricanes defeated many of the ships trying to enter the bay. And when another conquistador, Ángel de Villafañe, came and offered to take the settlers to Cuba, Vincente Torres and a few others stayed behind and were offered the opportunity to stake their claim in any part of land they felt they could tame. Vincente Torres inhabited the island, not far off the coast of Pensacola, and his descendants had already brought over several family members by the time Spain officially founded Pensacola in 1698.
Where the explorer failed, Vincente Torres managed to maintain the island, which had reminded him so much of his beloved city on the nearby island, and would become Puerto Rico; hence the namesake, Villa San Juan. In 1845, Florida became an official state. With Villa San Juan being a part of Florida, all inhabitants became American citizens.
“The wheels in your head are spinning,” Nate said with a chuckle.
“Your home sounds fascinating.”
He shrugged modestly. “It’s a small town, just like Southwood.”
Amelia frowned. “There’s no history here. Your family founded a city.”
“Perhaps, but everyone wants a piece of the Torres family, their wealth and their rum. At least in Southwood, everyone comes together as a community. Take the bachelor auction.”
The townsfolk of Southwood did come together, even when running a family out, she thought. “Whatever. Didn’t your community come together over a school shooting?”
The prideful gleam in Nate’s green eyes from when he’d spoken a moment ago disappeared. The thickness of his eyebrows hooded his orbs. A chill ran down Amelia’s spine.
“The shooting took place a long time ago. We’ve all gotten on with our lives.”
“Did you know the shooter?”
Nate poured a spoonful of coffee over his gelato, then set it against the ring with a clink. He blew out a sigh—the familiar sound indicating he did not want to talk about what happened.
“Did you leave town because of that?” Amelia inhaled deeply, then pressed her lips together. During confessionals on her reality sets, she always asked the hard questions—the thought-provoking questions, even the emotionally charged questions—and never felt any qualms over doing it.
“Tell me why you left Southwood.” Nate turned the conversation back on to her. The deep chuckle eased her mind. “What do you have against it?”
“Where do I start?” Before Amelia got the chance to rattle off a long list, a figure approached their table. Amelia stiffened at the memory of the familiar face.
“It has been killing me all night long,” the tall, slender woman said with a friendly smile. “Amelia Marlow, right?”
“Emily Keaton,” Amelia acknowledged coolly with a tight-lipped nod. She braced herself for confrontation, squaring her shoulders and sitting back against the vinyl of the booth. What she wasn’t prepared for was for the former head cheerleader to bend over and embrace Amelia in a friendly hug. The last time she’d seen the girl, she was making a cheer about Amelia leaving town. Not sure what to do, Amelia patted Emily’s back. Over the garlic and fresh bread, Emily smelled like a bouquet of flowers. “Hello.”
“What are you doing in town?”
“Family business,” Amelia said.
Emily tucked behind her ear a black strand of hair that had come loose when she bent over for a hug. “Please say you’ll be in town until Saturday. I’m getting married at the Methodist Church. I’d love for you to come.”
“You can’t be serious.” Amelia jumped when a foot connected with her shin. “Ouch.” She glared angrily across the table, only to find an unapologetic smile across Nate’s face.
At Amelia’s pain Emily turned her attention to Nate. “Oh,” she hummed knowingly.
“Emily, this is Nate Reyes.” Amelia made introductions.
Instead of extending her hand for a firm shake, Emily leaned over and hugged Nate’s shoulders. Of course they knew each other. Was there any woman in town who didn’t know Nate?
“Hey, Nate,” Emily cooed. “You have to promise me you won’t tell Lexi you saw me in here scarfing down some pizza. She’ll kill me if I go up a dress size after my final fitting.”
Nate cast a glance in Amelia’s direction. “I can honestly say my eyes have been on one person all evening.” He offered a wink in Amelia’s direction. The heat of desire boiled in the pit of her stomach. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“Thank God!” Emily turned her attention back to Amelia. “So you’ll definitely come now, right? With Nate, he’s already going to come, so it’ll be fun.”
“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.”
A fluffy cloud blew over the hospital. “Why?”
“Didn’t you mention something about losing your apartment?”
Did she? How soon she’d forgotten stretching the truth. She needed to keep a diary to keep track of the things she told Nate. Amelia glanced back at the sky. The cloud had now disappeared. A storm was brewing. “I don’t need you to worry about my finances.”
Nate threw his hands in the air for surrender. “All right.”
They both started walking again. “I don’t need you to walk me into the hospital, either.”
“I want to make sure you get in safe and sound,” Nate said as the automatic doors slid open, but not before Amelia caught a glimpse of his smirk.
A few seconds passed before Amelia’s eyes adjusted to the difference of the lights in the receptionist’s area. The young woman smiled in relief at the sight of her.
“Miss Marlow.” She snatched off her headset and came around the circular desk to embrace Amelia.
Amelia awkwardly patted the girl on the back. When did Southwood become such a hugging town? However, unless she was crazy, Amelia was sure the girl shuddered. “Is my grandmother okay?”
“She’s fine.” The girl sniffed and regained her composure. “Miss Helen is actually in the waiting room with a guest.”
Being part of the community, Helen Marlow had lots of friends. But she’d wanted this accident to be a secret, so Amelia was curious about who was visiting. She followed the plastered signs toward the waiting room; all the while Nate was on her heels.
“Really, Nate.” Amelia inhaled deeply.
“What?” He chuckled and captured her hand. Amelia did not pull away. “Are you afraid to be seen with someone like me?”
They fell into step together. To be honest with herself, Amelia enjoyed facing off with her grandmother with someone by her side...especially someone like Nate. With Amelia being so close to thirty and not married, Grandmamma reminded her constantly.
High-pitched laughter echoed down the hallway. Amelia rounded the corner to the open room filled with dozens of chairs, a few vending machines and a coffeemaker. Two figures sat close together by the window. There was no mistaking Grandmamma’s propped-up white cast.
“Grandmamma?”
The gentleman seated with her stood up and crossed the room to meet her. “Well, Amelia Marlow, as I live and breathe.”
“Pastor Rivers.” Amelia dropped Nate’s hand.
“Nate?” Pastor Rivers pulled back from his hug to Amelia. “This part of your community service?”
“Yes, sir.” Nate cleared his throat. “Just doing my duty and bringing the young lady to her grandmamma.”
“You don’t get to call me that.” Grandmamma maneuvered her wheelchair around in an awkward circle, knocking several of the folding chairs over. Amelia went to help but her grandmother swatted her hand away. “Who is this you brought here?”
“Grandmamma—” Amelia inhaled deeply “—this is Nathaniel Reyes, but he goes by Nate.”
“Well, Nathaniel,” Grandmamma said in a clipped tone, “don’t you own an iron or is this the new fashion?”
Nate smiled and thankfully ignored her grandmother’s gruffness. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Marlow. May I say you have a beautiful home?”
“What the hell are you do
ing in my home? Lord, Amelia, you better not have all kinds of people up in my house.”
Somewhere deep inside her, the seventeen-year-old Amelia shrank into herself. “No, ma’am. Nate’s been helping me fix things up for you,” she interjected before Grandmamma began lecturing them.
“Miss Helen,” Pastor Rivers spoke up, “Nate is an honorable young man. I can vouch for him.”
Grandmamma glared skeptically at Nate with her hazel eyes. “Well, whatever you two are doing, best get it done soon. The doc says I can finish recuperating in the next day or so.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Nate.
The Southern drawl he spoke with turned her on when it shouldn’t. Amelia shook the sound of his deep twang out of her head. She preferred men with more of an international range, much like when he had rolled his R when they were in bed together. Mmm, bed together. Was it getting hot in here? Amelia’s fingers itched to fan her face. She hadn’t realized she’d been daydreaming as Nate explained what they were doing. When she came into focus, Grandmamma’s face was skewed with a frown.
“Think about the good they’re doing, Miss Helen,” Pastor Rivers said, stepping between Grandmamma and Nate. “They’re moving everything downstairs so you won’t have to climb those stairs every single night. Won’t that be better for you?”
* * *
“Tell me about your day, girls.” Nate pushed a plate of store-bought cookies in front of his two favorite nieces, who were now pouting. “Did Uncle Stephen get you off to school okay?”
Both girls widened their eyes at him. Philly’s mouth opened and she quickly covered her mouth to suppress her gasp. “Girls?”
Kimber folded her arms across her sparkled T-shirt. Her smirk, so much like her father’s, made him grin. With Stephen in town to help on a more permanent basis, Nate was able to enjoy more grown-up activity apart from the house. The love he had for the girls, however, never allowed him to spend more than a night or two away. He’d spent two nights away with Amelia—sort of. He’d still slept on the couch in the barn last night.
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