Fireflies and Magnolias

by Ava Miles

  “But I’m not done talking to him!” Rye nearly shouted.

  “Yes, you are. Come on, Clayton.”

  Her little hand dragged him from the room, and Clayton couldn’t help but be impressed with the way she’d handled Rye. She was a heck of a lot stronger than he usually gave her credit for. When they reached the front door, she turned to him and patted his cheek, making him feel like he was a six-year-old kid.

  “You did the right thing,” she told him. “Now you and Amelia Ann need to decide what you two want. Once you regain your senses.”

  “But I just told you…” He suddenly felt some sympathy for Rye. Tory wasn’t listening to him either.

  “Sounds to me like you’re far from sure. I know when I hear guilt and fear talking in a man. You’re no different than Rye when he fell for me.”

  “Tory—”

  “I feel bad for my sister-in-law just now. When you finally admit how you feel about her and decide to ask her out properly, please make sure you have your head on straight.”

  Admit how he felt about her? Ask her out?

  Tory opened the front door and gave him a slight shove between the shoulder blades when he stood there stupidly.

  He tripped on the threshold and remembered his manners. “Thanks…ah…Tory.”

  “You’re welcome…ah…Clayton. You men! How you ever get us to go out with you mystifies me. It has to come down to hormones.” She shook her head and slammed the door.

  His feet felt two sizes too large as he walked in a daze to his truck. Rye hadn’t punched him, and his pint-sized Yankee wife was clearing the path to him dating Amelia Ann.

  This visit had gone nothing like he’d expected.

  Chapter 14

  Amelia Ann was running through a draft of the protection order for one of their new clients when she heard a knock on the door. Looking down at her wrinkled white cotton pajamas dotted with roses and the matching robe, she eyed the clock. It was eleven a.m. on Saturday, and she hadn’t dressed for Community Legal yet. Edging over to the door, she peeked through the peephole and was surprised to see Tory and Rye standing there. Usually they called.

  Seeing her brother made her feel guilty. She knew he’d throw a fit if he found out about her and Clayton. Not that she expected anything more to come of it since she hadn’t heard a peep from Clayton since he’d left her that night other than a brief text the next morning to say he’d secured another junker for her and not to ask about the old one. It had been delivered an hour later by a local car dealer, and she’d forced herself to silence the images of Damon destroying her old vehicle in a fit of rage. When she texted Clayton to thank him for his help and the car, his only response had been, No thanks needed.

  He hadn’t said a single word more.

  Odious man. He could have at least called. Didn’t he know he’d raised her hopes by kissing her? She’d fought with herself over whether to use the concert as an excuse to see him and won the battle. She’d decided to let things simmer.

  If he felt even a fraction of the passion and connection she did, a mere taste wouldn’t be enough for him. He would come around, she told herself. He was only processing everything. But she knew Clayton—better than he thought—and she feared the brief note and the silence that followed it were signs he was trying to create distance between them.

  She smoothed her hair and opened the door. Tory was holding a basket of muffins—freshly baked, judging from the mouthwatering smell of ginger and cinnamon reaching her nose.

  “Hi, y’all. I’m still in my pajamas and have to leave to do…some ah…legal stuff pretty soon, but come on in.” This was certainly not the right time to tell them the truth.

  Then she had a thought. Clayton hadn’t gone back on his word and told them, had he?

  “That’s okay, Amelia Ann,” Tory said, giving her the basket and kissing her cheek. “We only wanted to pop in for a bit. Right, Rye?”

  When Amelia Ann looked at her brother, she noticed he wasn’t his usual smiling self. In fact, he was gazing at her like their old aunt Hattie used to look at people after she lost her mind, God rest her soul. Something hot and prickly touched her neck.

  He knew. Blast Clayton to hell.

  She pasted on a smile. “Rye, you look about as cross as a bear.”

  Tory gave him a pointed look, and in that one glance, Amelia Ann’s stomach dropped to the floor. This was going to be bad.

  “No need to pretend, darlin’,” Rye said, kissing her cheek as well. “Clayton paid us a visit and told us everything.”

  Her anger spurted to the surface like newly drilled oil through the earth. How dare he! No wonder he hadn’t called her. She was going to chew him up and spit him out for this.

  But she had bigger fish to fry right now. She braced herself for an attack. This was her life, and it was her decision where she wanted to volunteer her time.

  Tory elbowed Rye, causing him to grunt. “Not that it’s any of our business, but we thought it might help matters if we came and told you we understand you and Clayton are both adults. Able to make your own decisions. Right, Rye?”

  Her mind spun. Oh, no.

  His brother’s deep sigh could have blown over a sapling in the woods. “That’s what I’m supposed to say, but it’s stuck in my throat. I’m sorry, Tory. So how about we all sit down, and you can tell me what in the name of all that’s holy made you kiss a man who’s as old as me?”

  Tory locked her arm through her husband’s and tugged him through the door, then shut it behind them. “Rye, please try and be reasonable.”

  He ran a finger down her nose. “Sweetheart, I love you. I truly don’t mean to hurt you by saying this, but you don’t have any siblings. Trust me, this isn’t a normal boy-meets-girl situation. But I will try and be reasonable if that makes you feel better.”

  Amelia Ann bit her lip for a moment. Suddenly it was like being back at Mama’s house, getting called onto the carpet for some transgression or social error.

  Mama’s house.

  That snapped her out of it. She was an adult now, and her own woman. Time to act like it.

  “I suppose I should be glad Clayton told you, Rye,” she began, forming her argument like she would as a lawyer. “Now everything’s out in the open—”

  “Just tell me this, Amelia Ann. Why Clayton? He’s—”

  “Amelia Ann, you don’t need to tell us why you’re attracted to Clayton,” Tory interrupted. “Any woman with a healthy set of eyes can see that. Plus, he might act like a tough guy, but we all know he has a heart of gold. Rather like someone else I know, who needs to remember what we agreed upon before we came here.”

  The basket of muffins in Amelia Ann’s arms suddenly felt like a bad prop in a community theater production.

  Rye sighed again. “Why am I the bad guy for not liking the idea of you being with him? I think we need Tammy’s opinion.”

  Wouldn’t that be peachy? They should call a family quorum.

  Tory wrapped her arm around Amelia Ann’s shoulders and led her to the kitchen. “Let’s have some muffins and drink a cup of tea. And Rye, we don’t need anyone’s opinion. Amelia Ann and Clayton can and will figure it out for themselves.”

  “But he said—”

  “Rye, we talked about this,” Tory said in a stern voice.

  Her brother followed them, his steps heavier than usual, clapping loudly on the hardwood floor and then changing tune once they hit the tiles in her kitchen. “But, sugar—”

  “Do I need to remind you again, Rye Crenshaw, how much your mama disapproved of me?” Tory asked, taking the muffins from Amelia Ann and setting them on the small table she’d covered in a green damask cloth.

  “But…she’s in school,” he protested, reaching for a muffin.

  “Not only have we talked about this, we’ve talked it half to death. I was in school,” Tory said.

  Her sister-in-law was bustling around the kitchen while she spoke—a constant for Tory—setting out plates and cups, filli
ng the tea kettle with water. The sight filled Amelia Ann with warmth as she watched them volley back and forth.

  “This woman has an answer for everything,” Rye muttered.

  “I heard that, and if you say Clayton has too much of a reputation, let me remind you of what yours was when we got together.”

  Amelia Ann couldn’t help but smile. She had found an unexpected advocate and a good one at that. Tory would make a hell of a lawyer. Too bad she couldn’t sic Tory on Clayton. Clearly his guilt had spurred this confession, and she would have to do battle with him soon.

  Her brother leveled his wife a glance. “Fine. I’ll only say this one thing. If you two decide to…move forward…and he hurts you, Amelia Ann, he answers to me. Understood?”

  Tory pushed him into a chair and slid him a plate so he wouldn’t make a mess with the muffin he was tearing apart.

  “No, you won’t. Your friendship is too important. You’d do best to remember how well it turned out for Tammy and J.P.”

  Spinning the plate, he looked up at the heavens like he was begging for divine intervention. “He’s a preacher’s kid for heaven’s sake. I’d let my grandmamma date J.P. if she were still alive.”

  Now that made Amelia Ann laugh. “Oh, Rye. When are you going to realize I’m all grown up?”

  He stood up and hugged her tight. “I’m trying, really I am. It’s just…you’re my little sister. I want to look out for you. No one did that for me when I was growing up…I thought it might be nice if…well, if someone had.”

  Her heart pinched. Rye could be overly protective, but he made up for it by being downright sweet. “I still have to find my own way. Clayton included.”

  “I know, sugar.” He kissed her cheek and settled back into his chair. “So are you going to tell the rest of the family then?”

  What was she supposed to tell them? “What exactly did Clayton tell you?”

  “That he kissed you, kissed you,” Rye muttered. “And don’t ask me how much I didn’t need that image in my head.”

  Tory slid him a small jar of honey butter she must have included in the basket and a knife. “We’ll leave it for you and Clayton to decide on the next steps. We only wanted you to know that we won’t be standing in your way if you two decide to pursue a relationship. Right, Rye?”

  “You’re going to have to make me muffins every day to get me to agree to that,” he said sullenly.

  Tory narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Fine! But I stand by what I said earlier. If he hurts you, he’ll answer to me. He’s still one of my best friends, but he damn well knows it’s different when you’re…oh hell…interested in your friend’s baby sister.”

  “Stop calling me your baby sister, Rye,” Amelia Ann told him, reaching for a plate and grabbing a muffin. Usually she didn’t add butter to her muffins, but Tory’s honey butter would make the angels weep.

  “I’ll try,” he said and then tore off a chunk of the muffin and plopped it in his mouth. “Muffins every day, honey.”

  “Not when you say it like that, honey,” Tory said as she calmly cut her muffin in half and buttered it. “And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

  “I just want you to be happy, Amelia Ann,” Rye added after he finished chewing.

  Tory gave her a wink, which made her smile.

  “I know you do. I appreciate your willingness to trust my judgment, Rye.”

  “It’s Clayton’s judgment I’m worried about, and he knows it,” he said. “You’re not the kind of woman he usually—”

  “Clayton’s judgment is just fine, if you ask me. It was brave of him to come to our house and tell you what he did, expecting you to slug him, fire him, or both. He doesn’t have much family, Rye. You’re brothers, and nothing can get in the way of that. That’s why he’s so hung up about his feelings for Amelia Ann.”

  Had Clayton admitted his hesitancy or had Tory intuited it? She didn’t have the courage to ask. She would know soon enough when she saw Clayton again.

  Rye stroked his chin. “He had reason to expect I’d slug him or worse, us being brothers and all.”

  Hearing Rye talk like that, she finally understood the depth of Clayton’s dilemma. They had worked together for a long time and been best friends longer still. Being with her could jeopardize their relationship, and the tightness in her chest returned with a vengeance.

  “Rye, promise me one thing. Whatever happens between Clayton and me, you won’t fire him. Or lose him as a friend. I don’t want to come between y’all.”

  Rye stared between his knees and took his time answering. “I won’t fire him, and God knows I don’t want to lose him as a friend. But you’re my sister, sugar.”

  “But like Tory said, and you moments ago, he’s your brother,” she fired back.

  His mouth turned up at the corner. “I can’t win with you two. Now, how about you go get dressed while we fix the tea?”

  She eyed the clock. Since she only put on light makeup when going to the clinic, it wouldn’t take her long to get ready. Her mind spun. Now might be the best time to tell them about Community since she was demanding they see her as an adult. Delaying the inevitable would be cowardly…and it would put Clayton in a worse position when the truth finally got out.

  And maybe, just maybe, it would help ease this hesitation he was feeling with her.

  “I’ll only need a few minutes,” she said, clenching her hands in her lap. “Since you’re talking about respecting my judgment, I wanted to tell you I’m volunteering at a community legal clinic in the city.”

  Something flickered in Rye’s eyes. “Where in the city exactly?”

  In for a penny… “In the east part.”

  Even Tory blinked and bit her lip. She put a hand on Rye’s arm as if to transfer strength and composure to him.

  “East Nashville?” he asked in a soft voice.

  She nodded briskly.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. “Well, now, I don’t expect I need to tell you that’s a dangerous part of town. You’re a smart woman. Tell us why you decided to work there.”

  The tea whistle blew, rather like her brother was about to. She rose, happy to escape Rye’s intense stare for a moment.

  “I wanted to make a difference, and they have a lot of need. I help out where I’m needed, but the main concentration of my volunteer work is domestic violence.”

  “That’s wonderful, Amelia Ann,” Tory said, and it was obvious from her tone that she meant it. “You’re so smart and compassionate…I can’t think of anyone better equipped to help women out of those terrible situations. Right, Rye?”

  He didn’t say anything, and Amelia Ann realized her hands weren’t steady as she poured the hot water into her teapot.

  “You wouldn’t believe the women I’ve crossed paths with,” she said. “Just this week, one of our clients finally decided to fill out a protection order and separate from her husband. He’d been abusing her for their entire relationship. Her kids are four and seven. I helped them get into a women’s shelter. They got out. Not everyone chooses that.”

  Tory’s eyes filled with tears, and she crossed the kitchen to hug Amelia Ann. “Thank you for sharing that with us. I know it’s silly, but I’m so proud. You’re making a difference.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “The only thing I want to do with the law is help women like Tammy and any children involved. When I think…”

  She couldn’t continue, tears clogging her throat.

  A chair scraped. Rye approached them and wrapped his arms around them both. They stayed that way for a good minute, and the moment was sweet enough to send tears down her face. When they finally released each other, she saw tears on her sister-in-law’s face too—and ones in the corners of her brother’s eyes.

  “I won’t tell you not to do it since I understand why you’re doing it,” he said. “But I will ask you to be careful. Would you consider letting me hire a bodyguard to accompany you to the neighborhood? I don’t like the ide
a of you going by yourself—especially in that fancy BMW of yours.”

  “I’ve leased a used car, Rye.” This was not the time to mention the new one sitting out front. “And I dress down. Keep my hair pulled back. Trust me, I’m taking every precaution.”

  Especially after the incident at Jasinda’s apartment. She and Felicia had discussed some new protocols with the other lawyers and volunteers. Though everyone agreed they couldn’t eradicate the possibility of another dangerous situation, they could at least minimize it.

  “Promise you’ll call me if you need anything,” Rye said.

  How to handle that request? “Rye, given my…err…closeness with Clayton recently, he knows about the clinic. He insisted that I tell you and the family, but he left the timing up to me. We agreed I would call him if I ever need any help while I’m on the job.”

  She hoped that would help put things on the level between Clayton and her brother. As much as was possible. They would still have to talk about the events at Jasinda’s house, but right now, she didn’t want to worry Rye any more than she already had. He seemed shell-shocked as it was.

  “I can’t imagine having anyone better in your corner.”

  Tory reached for Rye’s hand, and he gave her a wink like he was trying to assure them both everything was okay. She knew they would worry. It was what close families did.

  “But you know you can call me too, right?” he asked seriously. “That I’ll always have your back?”

  More tears came into her eyes. How many years had she longed to hear those words from someone, anyone, growing up? Now she was grown up, and two men she dearly loved had both offered to come through for her in a pinch.

  “I know that, Rye.”

  He grunted, reminding her of Clayton. “Good.”

  “Now if I don’t run upstairs and get ready, I’m going to be late. I’m sorry I didn’t pour the tea.”

  Tory patted her hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll have a cup waiting for you when you come down.”

  As she passed him, Rye grabbed her hand. “I mean it. We’re always here for you. Always. No matter what.”