Free His Southern Sweetheart by Carolyn Hector

was gravel, a cemented walkway provided a sturdier pathway to the large wooden steps of the front porch. Earlier when he pulled into the driveway, he thought he spied a rocking chair when his lights flashed on the house, but found a set of four instead. For some reason he imagined a younger version of Amelia shelling peas into a pot as a child. In his career as a real estate agent and contractor, Nate had an eye for homes, especially ones that told a story. Even in the dark, he knew this was a colonial plantation house; the wide porch and tall pillars clued him in. He couldn’t wait to get inside. Speaking of which, he realized Amelia was slowly walking up behind him. Why so shy now?
    â€œDon’t tell me you’re worried about spending the night with me,” he asked with a teasing grin.
    â€œI’m not,” Amelia said, standing at the bottom step, “because you’re not staying in the house with me.”
    â€œExcuse me?” The house was so far out, it was too damn late to drive back to Southwood now and not wake the girls when he got home.
    â€œWell, I’m staying in the house—” Amelia pressed her hand against her breast “—but you’re staying there.” Her manicured hand pointed toward the barn.
    â€œI’m sorry, what?”
    â€œThe barn. I hired you to work forty hours for me.”
    Nate dropped the bag and leaned against a white pillar. “So I’m here as your farmhand?”
    â€œI figured it’s only fair.”
    â€œI don’t get it.” Nate walked down the steps until they were face-to-face.
    As if to distance herself, Amelia folded her arms across her chest. “Don’t play me for a fool, Nate. Not again.”
    He cringed.
    â€œYeah, I talked to Natalia. I’m not just a field producer, Nate, I’m also her friend. You knew exactly what you were doing when you bought me that drink last week.”
    â€œAmelia,” he tried.
    â€œSave it.” She hushed him with a wave of her hand before securing herself against the frame. “I was a fool to ever have a drink with you and a bigger fool to bring you back to my room. You wanted me distracted? Well, you got it. I was so distracted, as you planned, that I didn’t get the footage of Natalia and your brother talking.”
    â€œThey needed privacy.”
    â€œShe signed a contract to have her life videoed 24/7,” she said, “thus making me miss an important turning point in the show.”
    Nate shook his head. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but my brother’s life is not part of the show.”
    â€œWell, neither is mine now.”
    â€œYou were seriously fired over missing one conversation?”
    Amelia rolled her eyes before biting the bottom corner of her lip. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
    â€œWell, tell me why I’m here.”
    â€œLike I said, you will be my farmhand here for a week. My grandmother had an accident and you’re going to help me.”
    So revenge was on her mind? Nate’s eyes narrowed down on hers. “You do realize these forty hours are causing me to miss my nieces’ first day at school on Monday.”
    â€œWell, looks like we’re both missing out on important benchmarks in our lives. Good night, Nate Reyes.”
    * * *
    Thanks to the sound of someone’s rooster serenading him at the crack of dawn, Nate woke up a few hours earlier than he was used to over the summer. The beat of his heart settled when a shadow of the feathered friend walked past the thin crack between the wooden panels of the barn. At least the door to the breezeway remained closed. He didn’t want to start the day losing any cool points by tangoing with the thing. God only knew if Amelia had rigged the barn with hidden cameras just to enjoy the torture. Wasn’t it her profession to capture every moment of someone’s life on television? His eyes peered left and right and in all