Free His Southern Sweetheart by Carolyn Hector Page B

blacktop gas stove matched the specks in the marble counters. Two red mugs sat upside down in the sink; he grabbed both and wiped them off with the red-and-white dishcloth hanging from the door handle of the black refrigerator.
    The first sip of coffee was always Nate’s favorite, the first jolt of caffeine flowing over his lips. She made a mean brew , he thought with a twinge of a smile. After his first few sips he moseyed over to the table and picked up the top of the envelopes on the table. In the state of the table, the condition of the breezeway and the rickety shape of the furniture, Nate half expected to find a red stamp with “past due” on the front of the envelope. There was none; just a lot of bills for Helen Marlow.
    â€œWhat do you think you’re doing?”
    Nate glanced up and grinned at the sight of Amelia standing at the entrance of the kitchen. Her bare feet teetered against the plush beige carpet and the hardwood floors. Her toes were painted red, different from the French manicure he’d kissed not too long ago.
    â€œHelping myself to a cup of coffee,” he answered and moved back toward the pot. “I set aside a mug for you but I realized I didn’t know how you like yours. Had you not left the hotel room last week, I might have learned what you liked—coffee-wise, that is.”
    Amelia’s hand closed the slight opening of her yellow bathrobe. Water trickled down her shapely legs and her hair was now free of the shower cap. Dare he mention what he saw?
    â€œYou got what you wanted that night.”
    Since he had no reason to lie, Nate nodded his head. “I did get a lot more than what I wanted, Amelia. I never intended for you to get fired. Natalia assured me she was able to get private time after hours.”
    â€œWhatever.” Amelia shook her head. “I don’t have time to rehash the past.”
    â€œA week ago was the past?” Nate half laughed.
    â€œIn my world you’re old news.”
    Ouch . He managed not to wince at her harsh words. Growing up in Villa San Juan with his first cousins, Marisol and Lourdes, he’d seen firsthand how ruthless women could be when hurt. “Okay, I’m old news. What kind of headlines can I make for you today? You have me all to yourself for a week.”
    â€œForty hours.”
    Nate nodded. “I stand corrected. Do you have a time clock you’d like me to punch?”
    â€œI’d like to punch something,” Amelia mumbled, turning her head toward the living room.
    â€œWe did something similar—” Nate refrained from continuing the millisecond Amelia cut her eyes in his direction. He held his free hand in the air in surrender. “All right, let me stop.”
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œWhy don’t you tell me what you want me to do?”
    Amelia sighed and shrugged. Her arms dropped to her side and her shoulders slumped as she inclined her head toward the stack of envelopes on the table. “This is my grandmother’s place. Last week, the phone call I received right after we—” her cheeks tinted a faint pink “—well, my grandmother took a spill last week and broke her leg.”
    â€œA spill?” he repeated.
    â€œShe fell down the steps.” Amelia pointed her thumb over her shoulder to where he guessed the stairs were. “And she broke her leg.”
    Nate raked his left hand through his hair. “Geez, I’m sorry.”
    For a split second Amelia softened and smiled. “What happened to my grandmamma isn’t your fault.”
    â€œBut,” he said with a nod, “what happened with your job is.” The silence falling between them gave him his answer. “All right, so what is it you want me to do?”
    â€œShe’ll be home this week and I want to move everything around, but I’d like to start with a ramp on the side of the porch and then we can work our way inside.”
    Nate’s