Fireflies and Magnolias (30 page)

Of course, he’d been to Eastland Café before. Part of his job as Rye’s deputy was to entertain business types, anyone from execs from his label to radio powerhouses. Eastland had good buzz and enough country appeal to satisfy a native.

“I assume you’ve been here before,” she said after he pulled out her chair and helped her settle in, the mirrored wall next to the booth giving him an inviting look at her profile.

“Yes. I like it.”

“Good. I thought you would. As you can probably tell, I come here a lot.”

Their server, who also knew her by name, brought them water after they ordered their drinks. Amelia Ann’s swollen eyes and skin glowed under the restaurant’s soft lights, and he wondered again what she and Tammy could have been discussing. Soon, the server brought them her glass of Chardonnay and his beer.

He still didn’t know what the future held for them, only that there were obstacles in their way. But now that he’d tasted her, experienced her, he wasn’t willing to let her go without a fight.

It only took him a minute of scanning the menu to decide what he wanted. She studied it like it was a law book one of her professors planned to test her on.

“Is eating that big of a decision for you, princess?” he asked, although he expected she was still trying to regain some equanimity.

“It is here. Everything is so delicious. I’m trying to decide what I’m in the mood for.”

He was glad she was hungry after her talk with Tammy. That was a good sign. He jumped in his seat when she skimmed her toes up his calf. Even though there was an aisle between the booth and the tables across the way, there were mirrors everywhere.

Leaning across the table so no one could hear, he said, “Stop that. Right now.”

“Only trying to have some fun.”

That smile on her face disappeared when she raised her menu, and he almost laughed at himself. He wasn’t used to being the prude. She clearly was trying to shake off her earlier mood, so he nudged her leg with his boot. His reward was a sexy wink.

They ordered—her, the fish with a side salad and him, the ribs and the green chile mac and cheese that was this place’s specialty.

“Tell me about your day,” she said, and he found himself enjoying the act of telling her.

Going out on dates like this wasn’t Clayton’s norm. His history with women had been a long series of short flings after Amanda…but for Amelia Ann, he’d dressed formally. Splashed on more aftershave after shaving for the second time today to save her sensitive skin.

More firsts.

Well, she was a woman for firsts, he told himself.

She didn’t talk about Tammy at all. No, she ran though her classes and told him about what she was studying, which gave him a moment of unease. His law school days were far behind him, and it made him feel the age difference between them more acutely. He was reluctant to mention he’d even had some of the same professors.

“Don’t,” she said quietly as the server brought their meal.

He didn’t have to ask how she’d read his mind. She was doing way too much of that these days. Now, her mind…that was another story.

They switched to the safer topic of his horses, and both of them seemed to relax again.

She refrained from ordering dessert and coffee, and the way she trailed another path up his calf with her toes told him she had something else in mind. The contact ignited a trail of fire to his groin. He asked for the check and laid down more twenties than necessary, not bothering to wait for change.

The smile she wore out of the restaurant could have competed with Helen of Troy’s. When she inched her hand up his thigh as he drove them back to her townhouse, he removed it but kissed it to take away the sting.

“I don’t plan to wreck this car tonight,” he said in a husky voice. “Don’t distract me just now.”

She folded her hands in her lap and said nothing the rest of the way. But before he’d even shut the engine off, she was out of the car and moving swiftly to the door, her key jiggling in her hands as she unlocked it. He dashed after her.

They barely made it inside before he yanked her to him and took her mouth in a drugging kiss.

“You play with fire,” he told her.

“I told you I like matchsticks,” she whispered, pulling out his shirt and running her hands up his chest.

Right. Magnolias. He could smell the pure power of them on her skin.

“I need…oh Clayton, I need you tonight.” The words were strained, and he felt some of her earlier emotional intensity returning.

“I’m here, princess,” he said, wanting to give her what she needed.

“Then come upstairs with me.”

When she held out her hand, he grasped it and let her tug him up the stairs. Her bedroom was decorated in gold and white with red accents. Above her bed was the painting of a woman laying on a blanket and reading under a magnolia tree. It suited her. But he didn’t have more than a moment to survey it because she wrapped her arms around him, and he was lost. Lost in the taste of her, which was so new and arousing, lost in the thrill of the electricity between them. Her moans were music to his ears, and after kissing her until they both could barely breathe, he turned her around.

The finger he ran down her slender nape made her sigh. She tilted her head to the right to give him better access as he tugged on the baby curls there. Her hair was pulled up into some type of twisty thing with bobby pins, so he pulled one out after another, shoving them into his pants pocket, until her curls hung down her back.

“That feels so good,” she breathed out, boneless against him now.

“I love your hair,” he whispered, pulling it to one side so he could kiss her neck.

The strands felt like corn silk in his sensitive hand. He slid the side zipper of her dress down to her waist and helped her push it to the floor. Her black bra and panty set reminded him of the Victorian era, when women had seduced their men with elegance. She’d dressed for him, and he found himself as aroused as he was moved.

She turned around in his arms. “Kiss me again.”

Her plea was urgent, so he gave her what she needed. He was feeling the same urgency, but he was determined to make it good for her. Taking his time, he caressed her breasts and the V between her legs, until she reached behind her back to remove her bra. Her impatience had him opening his shirt, his eyes never leaving her delicate skin. There was only a trace of a blush on her cheeks when she kicked off her heels and removed her underwear.

He framed her face with his hands. Looked straight into her eyes. “You’re so beautiful. Every last inch of you.”

Her smile came and went, and then she reached down to unbuckle his belt. He didn’t stop her. He wanted to feel them skin-to-skin.

Her hands feathered his arousal, and he let her have her way. Being with her was as much about her learning his body as it was him learning hers. When he felt the beat of his blood pounding through his whole system, he stopped her and set his mouth on her again. They fell onto her bed, her legs opening to receive his frame. Her moans, sighs, and the slight jerks of her body made him desperate to take her.

But not yet.

There was too much of her to explore.

Explore her he did, in new ways that had her stilling at first, but she relaxed beneath his fingers and lips and tongue and let him show her more about her body. About the heights she could reach. When she was crying out against his mouth, he slid inside her. She was still tight, but she threw back her head and clutched him tightly, so he didn’t pause. Only thrust into her until her body opened for him like a blossom, and she called out his name in an agonized whisper.

“Oh, Clayton.”

“Shh…it’s okay. I’m right here, princess.”

He didn’t have to ask her if she was all right. Her body rose to meet his touch, telling him what he needed to know. He took her mouth in a deep, wet kiss and increased his rhythm. She clenched around him, and he forced himself to hold back. Just a moment longer.

When she cried out her pleasure, he let go, his release so powerful it raced through his spine. He was heaving and gasping as he rolled them to their sides. She’d zapped all his strength.

She cuddled close, her breath still coming in soft pants. Her eyes were closed, and there was a flush on her cheeks. He looped an arm around her waist to hold her even closer.

“I know I said I wouldn’t tell you again,” she said in a small voice, “but I can’t hold back. You need to know. I love you. No matter what happens.”

There was something sad in her tone, something that reached out and pulled him in. He traced her cheek with his hand, wishing she would open her eyes. His heart was so full of her, of her scent, of her mind, of the way she reached out to others. Everywhere she went she was a light, and she was shining brightly on him right now.

“Amelia Ann,” he whispered.

Those eyes so full of greens, golds, and browns opened slumberously.

“I love you.”

Tears appeared in the corners of her eyes, and she bit her lip. “You do?”

His throat was tight, so he just nodded.

“Oh, Clayton,” she whispered, tracing his face over and over again. “It’s going to be okay.”

He pressed his forehead to hers and caressed her back. The emotion inside him was so huge, so raw, he was adrift.

“We’re going to be okay,” she said again in a hushed tone.

They caressed each other, sensitive to the newness of the words and emotions rising between them, until she finally fell asleep.

He stayed awake, breathing in the smell of their passion mingled with magnolias—the scent reminding him of what she’d told him earlier about matchsticks. She was no shy violet. No, she was delicate
and
strong, and she had fire inside her.

For now it burned for him.

He hoped it always would.

Awakening next to Clayton the next morning was one of the most decadent sensations Amelia Ann had ever experienced. She turned to watch him sleep. He loved her. He’d actually said it. The joy those words had brought to her filled her from head to toe.

They’d reached for each other throughout the night to meet in love again and again. Her body was more than sore, but her heart…it knew no bounds.

The memory of what his face had looked like when he told her that he loved her was one she’d carry with her to her deathbed. He might be rough around the edges, but there was a side to him most people didn’t see. She’d received a glimpse of how loving he could be last night, and it gave her hope for them.

“Good morning,” he murmured, squeezing her waist and pulling her closer to him.

He was aroused, and her body grew heavy with desire from feeling his hardness pressed against her.

“Good morning, yourself. How about we take most of the day off?” she suggested, wanting more time with him before she had to face Rye and her father. “We could stay in bed for a while or go out to your place for a ride. I promised Jasinda I’d take her to a thrift store so she could buy some clothes for her and the kids at four, but I can meet you again the minute I finish.”

He didn’t need to ask whether she was helping Jasinda separate from her hours at Community Legal. She could tell from his expression he knew.

“Are you suggesting
I
call in sick?” he asked, his gray eyes slumberous.

She thought about it for a moment. “Well, yeah.”

“I can only imagine how well that would go over with your brother,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

Hearing the scratch of his stubble was ever so sexy, and she marveled again at the different textures of men.

“True,” she said, knowing it wouldn’t work. Clayton had too much of a work ethic, and her brother… It was one thing for him to know they were seeing each other. It was another to know they were spending the day together on a work day, which her brother would surely guess.

“What time is it?” he asked, closing his eyes again.

“Just past eight.” She snuggled close. “Can you at least go in late?”

“What about your classes?”

“I’ve decided to give myself a mental health day except for seeing Jasinda and the kids. The last few days, well
week
has been…” Intense and then some, she almost said, but thought better of it.

“We haven’t gotten much sleep either,” he commented, fitting her into the crook of his arm. “Okay, princess, I’ll go in late.”

She pushed up, feeling a huge grin crest across her face. “Yay!”

When his eyes remained closed, she trailed a hand down his chest, which he caught before she could go any lower.

“Something on your mind, princess?”

“You’re not going to sleep away our morning together,” she told him, kissing the curve of his muscular shoulder.

“I’m not? Aren’t you sore and tuckered out?”

“Not enough to stop being with you.” She leaned over and kissed his mouth. “Clayton, I’ll always want you. I love you. Isn’t it wonderful to finally say it to each other?”

They hadn’t talked about it last night. They’d been too busy forging the bond with their bodies.

The gray in his eyes reminded her more of mercury now, liquid and fascinating. Then she noticed the color on his cheeks, like he was embarrassed.

“Does talking about how we feel make you uncomfortable?” she asked, tracing the black hair that trailed over his forehead in a messy array that was so utterly sweet and sexy.

He shot her a glance. “You know it does. Talking about matters like this just isn’t my way, but I’ll work on it. You’re so darn direct sometimes. It’s disconcerting.”

Work on it? Now, that sounded like a man truly in love. She planted a sweet kiss on his mouth as a thank you. “I kept my mouth shut most of my life. I guess I’m making up for lost time.”

“No doubt,” he murmured, but he raised his hand and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You look beautiful in the morning when you aren’t all put together.”

“You look pretty darn sexy too with all this stubble on your face.”

She rubbed her cheek against it, the rough texture adding flames to the fire inside her. Needing to be even closer, she straddled him.