Fireflies and Magnolias (27 page)

Well…that was all she wanted to hear. She leaned in and kissed him long and deep. “I know you may not want to hear it, but I can’t hold back.”

His face tensed.

“I love you, Clayton.” She stroked his face. “I won’t tell you again. I just…needed to say it now. This one time.”

“Amelia—”

“Please don’t say anything,” she whispered. “Don’t ruin it. Just kiss me again. Please.”

He pressed his cheek to hers, and she could sense his struggle. “If you knew how much I care for you…”

“Please kiss me.”

He did, and in that moment, it was enough.

When Clayton awoke the next morning and gazed down at Amelia Ann sleeping soundly in his arms, his heart turned over like an old crank-handle car.

God, she was beautiful.

Her lips were a swollen pink, and there were traces of beard burn on her chin. He’d loved her well. As he’d told her, there was no going back now that they’d made love. Somehow, although she had such limited experience with men, she’d forged him to her in one of the strongest ways imaginable.

Through her trust.

She didn’t know how to hold a part of herself back, so when she gave, she gave everything. He’d never been with a woman like that before, and it only cemented the truth. He loved her.

Every time he’d tried to tell her last night, the words had caught in his throat like he’d swallowed a chicken bone. She’d stayed true to her promise—she’d only told him how she felt once. Yet with her body, she’d written it across his body over and over again.

He had no more defenses against her.

She’d grown bolder throughout the night, and her curiosity was second to none, which had delighted him. Satisfying her on all levels had become his new life’s purpose, and he couldn’t imagine ever wanting anyone else after what they’d shared last night.

His mind shied from that thought like a skittish horse, and he caressed the length of her hair trailing across his chest to calm himself. She smelled like a mix of him, them, and magnolias, and he couldn’t get enough of that potent combination.

“Good morning,” she whispered, snuggling against him.

He kissed her cheek. “Good morning, princess.”

She turned on her back and stretched. A wince crossed the delicate features of her face, and he laughed.

“What?” she asked, her voice still husky from sleep.

“I’m a little sore too,” he admitted, the smile easy on his face.

He was pretty sure he’d never smiled as much as he did around Amelia Ann.

“I’m glad you’re sore,” she said, making sure the sheet was tucked securely around her delectable bosom, he noted. “I shouldn’t be the only one.”

Her lips were too tantalizing, so he laid his mouth over hers. The kiss was soft and gentle, and when he drew back, her hazel eyes held a touch of confusion.

“What?” she asked.

“I told you there would be no going back.” He had to say it. Felt compelled to say it since he couldn’t bring himself to admit he loved her.

“Who’s going back?” She rose up on her elbow and pushed him back against the pillows, leaning over him.

Her sheet slipped, and it took all his self control not to whisk it out of the way.

“We shouldn’t,” he whispered against her mouth.

“I can take it if you can,” she whispered back and straddled him.

She took him slowly into her, riding the waves to her pleasure. All he could do was follow her, swept away in the wake of their powerful connection.

They showered together, and he loved the feeling of washing his shampoo from her hair. As they dressed, he watched her turn from sensual goddess to embarrassed, young woman again.

“I need some new clothes,” she said, shaking out her wrinkled dress.

“You can wear one of my shirts over your dress,” he found himself saying.

Her eyes widened for a moment, and then she smiled. “That sounds lovely.”

He headed into the walk-in cedar closet. “You haven’t seen the shirt I’m going to give you.”

“It better not be ugly,” he heard her say, and he picked out a camouflage one for hunting and held it out the door just to get her going.

“Not in a million years,” she said and sailed into the closet with him.

All the years spent living on tour buses and out of suitcases had made him into a neat guy, so he wasn’t embarrassed about the state of his closet. Her hands trailed over the rows of his shirts until she snagged a navy one off the hanger.

“I like the feel of this one. It’s not as soft as your skin, but it will do.” Then she winked.

He didn’t trust himself to help her button it up, so he left the closet and waited for her to emerge. The shirt was too big and long on her, but she’d tied the ends into a clever knot.

“It smells like you,” she said, lifting the material to her face.

“Talk like that is going to get you undressed right quick.” He put his hands on his waist to let her know he was serious.

“And that would be a bad thing?” she asked with a sugary drawl.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? School, perhaps?”

“It wouldn’t kill me to miss a class once. It’s never happened before.”

Yeah, he wasn’t surprised to hear she was the kind of student who never skipped. “Well, some of us can’t miss work.”

At the thought of Rye, the specter of guilt loomed over him. He’d taken his best friend’s sister to bed. He didn’t regret being with her, but he sure wished she were someone else’s sister, someone he didn’t know.

“Let’s grab some coffee and breakfast, princess. I’m famished.”

“All right. I am too.”

She skipped across the room until she stood in front of him. For a moment, they just stared at each other, aware of how messy the bed was behind them. Then she impulsively wrapped her arms around his waist. He kissed her wet hair.

“Clayton, I’m so happy.”

There was a question in her voice, so he lifted her chin and kissed her again, long and deep.

“Me too, princess.”

“Please tell me you have a blow dryer,” she said.

“Now why would I have one of those?” he drawled, loving the frown that formed between her eyes. “Come have some breakfast while it air dries like the hair of the rest of us mere mortals.”

She shot him a look, but she still took the hand he held out. He made coffee for them, and she hopped up on his granite countertop to drink it, her feet bobbing to the tune she was humming. The fact that it made him smile to discover she took her coffee black scared him a bit.

Since she didn’t cook much, she declared, he made them simple dipper eggs and toast while she cut up some apples and bananas.

“I expected it to be awkward,” she said, rinsing off her hands, “but it isn’t.”

His hand went lax, and he almost dropped the spatula on the floor. She was right. He’d had his fair share of awkward morning-afters.

“No. No, it isn’t.”

When he brought their eggs over to the kitchen table, he found himself wishing he had flowers for her. Something to dress up the table. Well, he could always buy her flowers later.

She sat and bowed her head for a moment before eating, and it did something to him, seeing that simple measure of grace. Then she opened her eyes and smiled at him. He was too focused on watching her eat her way happily through the meal to pay attention to his own eggs.

They were loading the plates in the dishwasher when he heard the alarm chime, signaling a door opening. Only one person came into his house without knocking. He braced himself for the visitor, and Amelia Ann stilled beside him.

His mama walked into the kitchen and paused to take in the unexpected scene.

“Hello, Mama,” he made himself say, placing a hand on Amelia Ann’s waist.

“Hello, Georgia,” the woman beside him said in a clear voice, even though he could feel how tight her muscles had become in the space of seconds.

“I wondered if that was your car out front,” his mama said.

“It is,” he told her, not crossing to kiss her like he normally would.

If she saw the car, she’d broken an unspoken rule. She knew he had a woman here, yet she’d walked in anyway, probably because she’d seen Amelia Ann’s car too. Apparently Rye wasn’t the only one he was going to have to battle to be with her.

“Well, this is quite a surprise,” Mama drawled, setting her purse down on the counter.

“I expect it might be,” Clayton replied. “Was there something urgent you needed, Mama? I was having breakfast with Amelia Ann.”

There was a stony silence, and Amelia Ann bit her lip.

“I suppose it can wait. I’ll let you two get back to your…breakfast,” Mama said in an extra sweet drawl, one that had his jaw locking.

“No need,” Amelia Ann said like the former debutant she’d been—no emotion, manners impeccable. “I have to run.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

Her smile was too perfect now, and he felt chilled by the sight. He hated seeing her revert back to this persona of hers—this fake woman he didn’t know.

“It was good to see you, Georgia.”

“You too, sugar. Do tell Rye hello when you see him.”

Like she didn’t talk to Rye every day as his manager. Mama could be a prize bitch when it suited her, and he gave her a hard look as he led Amelia Ann to the front door.

When they were outside, she halted. “I can walk to the car, Clayton. You’d best go back inside.”

He wanted to kick something. “I’m sorry she was like that.”

“Well, I suppose it was a shock, seeing me there. I…”

She wrung her hands and he grabbed them.

“Don’t let her do this to you,” he told her, staring into her eyes. “It’s only awkward if you let it be. There’s no shame in what we did.”

He could feel the slight quiver that ran through her body, but she pulled herself up and stood tall. “You’re right,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll call you later.”

She was a step away from him when he yanked her back. “That’s no way to kiss a man you spent the night with.”

“But—”

His mouth demanded things from her, reminded her of the things they’d shared. There was no way he was letting this moment be spoiled for her, for them. When he released her, she let out a shaky breath.

“Well…”

He couldn’t ignore the urge to kiss her again, so he leaned down swiftly. “How about dinner tonight?” he asked when he released her, awash in the pull of the kiss, their connection.

“I could do something later.” Her soft smile told him everything she was feeling. “Eightish?”

He wasn’t a man who added an
ish
to anything, but he felt a grin rising on his face as an answer. Where was the usual space he craved after being with a woman? Usually he couldn’t wait for his latest conquest to step off his land and leave him in solitude.

“Fine. I’ll pick you up. Text me when you get home.”

Those sultry eyes blinked a few times before she said, “It’s daylight out, Clayton. I’m fine driving back.”

“Humor me.”

“Okay,
sugar.
Thank you, Clayton.”

That chicken bone rose back into his throat. “For what?”

She only gave him a Mona Lisa smile and turned away, walking to her car. He watched until her tail lights disappeared from his vision. Even though he knew his mama was waiting for him, he still didn’t move.

He was in love with Amelia Ann. Now it was time to face the other people he loved, the people who had serious reservations about his involvement with her. He would need to step up and be a man about what he’d chosen.

He turned around to face the woman who no doubt was going to chew his ass six ways to Sunday.

He should regret last night, but he didn’t.

Not for one second.

Georgia was spitting mad when he returned to the kitchen, and Clayton knew better than to try and pacify her. The best thing to do was let her get it all out. He braced himself on the kitchen counter across from her.

“I didn’t know you were coming this morning, Mama.”

Her red eyebrows rose like she was already thinking he was sassing her. “I had some things to drop off, so I thought I’d take you out to breakfast.”

He held his tongue, not giving anything away.

“You can imagine my surprise when I saw Amelia Ann’s car outside.”

Still he said nothing.

“Clayton Chandler, how long have you been carrying on with Rye’s sister? I mean, I have seen a mighty number of things in this life, but it about blew me over to walk into this kitchen and find that young woman here, playing house with you, wearing her dress from last night and your shirt.”

Playing house? His heart kicked up at that, pounding in his ears. “Rye knows we’re together, Mama.”

Her eyes narrowed as she marched across the kitchen in her pointy-toed black boots and drilled her blood-red nail into his chest. “Are you saying Rye Crenshaw knows you’re sleeping with his sister?”

“It’s not like that, Mama, and I’d kindly ask you not to disrespect me or Amelia Ann that way.”

“Oh, it’s not like that, is it? I’ve seen her eyes on you before. I just never imagined in a million years you’d fall to her ways.”

He took a deep breath to counterbalance the anger rising in him. “Mama, she doesn’t have ways. She’s an innocent, and I’ll remind you again not talk about her that way.”

“So, she’s not one of those cheap women you dally with to pass the time?”

Curse words coursed through his mind, ones he couldn’t say in front of her. “Of course she’s not, Mama, and you know that.” He crossed his arms. “That’s all I plan to say on this subject.”

She threw her long mane of red hair over her shoulder. “All you plan to say? Well, I hate to tell you this, son, but I’m not done talking. I’ve seen you hook up with a lot of women, Clayton Chandler, but this has to be the craziest, most idiotic choice you have ever made. Rye is your best friend
and
your boss. Amelia Ann is his baby sister. Hell, son, she’s not even out of school yet.”

One dart. Two dart. Three. She’d managed to hit the bull’s-eye of his heart with each volley.

“Mama, I know all that, okay?”

She drilled her finger into his chest again. “Then why in the name of all that’s holy are you with her?”