by Sharon Sala
Five
Tyler went through the entire day dazed from his discovery. The little witch he’d gone and fallen in love with was masquerading as a lemon-sour librarian…or vice-versa. He hadn’t quite figured out which.
It had been all he could do to wait for sundown, because when the sun went down and the moon came up—when it got dark—Amber came out of hiding. At least, that was his hypothesis. He had only to make one last trip to The Old South and confront Amber with a dilemma he knew she couldn’t solve, and he’d have his answer.
A blob of shaving cream fell from his razor and landed with a plop into the sink. He squinted his eyes and tilted his chin, angling for the best sweep that would take the razor across his face and his day’s growth of whiskers with it.
No matter what it took, he had to look good tonight. He had to make himself so presentable, so enticing, that it would be difficult for Amber to say no. And then he grinned at himself in the mirror as he splashed himself with aftershave. But if she’s who I think she is, “no” is all she can say.
He dressed with a flourish and started out to his truck, then pivoted as he remembered his gift. A bouquet of long-stemmed red roses held center stage in most of his refrigerator. He took them out, shifting the juice and milk back where they belonged while mentally berating himself for not getting a bottle of wine to go with them. And then it dawned on him that Amber could provide all the celebrating potions they needed. It was her job.
With all his bribery in place, he headed out of his driveway, turning toward Savannah at the crossroads with a smile hovering about his lips. He could hardly wait to ruin what was left of her day.
Amelia was sick with nervousness. She hadn’t seen Tyler in days. At least…Amber hadn’t. Ever since that morning in church when she’d had to sit through an entire sermon in the house of the Lord and face the fact that she was living a lie, she’d felt guilty. Coming out of the market today didn’t count. Then she’d been Amelia and that had nearly been a disaster.
She was still counting herself lucky that he hadn’t recognized her and attributed that to the fact that Aunt Rosie’s prune juice had spilled all over his boots.
And she was certain she was right in assuming she’d escaped undetected. If he found her out, she had no doubt that he would have had a fit right there in the parking lot. Miss Effie would have had a field day with that.
Amelia frowned as she waited for the bartender to fill her order. She still hadn’t figured out what to do about Effie Dettenberg’s bombshell. Of all people to have witnessed her sneaking out of the house, she was the worst.
And today in the supermarket, Amelia had lied to Effie and she suspected Effie knew she’d been lied to. It was the silence that Effie still maintained that was making her nervous. Keeping a secret was beyond Effie.
“Girl…would you look at that?” Raelene hissed, and poked Amelia in the ribs to get her attention.
“What?” Amelia said, following Raelene’s stare.
And then the man in the doorway took her breath away. He was wearing white slacks and a pale blue shirt that brought out the blue in his eyes. He was drop-dead gorgeous and carrying flowers she knew were for her. Her heart skipped a beat. Tyler!
“Go on,” Raelene urged. “I’ll take the drinks to your table. You go see what that ‘hunk a burnin’ love’ wants.”
Amelia grinned. Raelene had a propensity toward using outrageous phrases from time to time, and this month she was in an “Elvis Presley” frame of mind.
“Looks like I’d better take something to put out his fire.”
Raelene grabbed her by the arm, cocked her painted-on eyebrows to the roof, and whispered out the side of her mouth. “Hell, no, honey. Don’t put it out…fuel it. You can do it. I’ve seen you in action.”
Thankful for the dimly lit room that hid her blush, Amelia headed for Tyler’s table.
He stood as she walked up. “Evenin’ darlin’,” he said softly, and placed a very discreet but unforgettable kiss at the corner of her mouth.
“Evening, Tyler,” she said, wishing she was anywhere but here in this outfit, with three hours to go before her shift was over.
He handed her the paper-wrapped bouquet and watched with unconcealed surprise as tears dotted the corners of her eyes. “Are you all right?” he asked sharply, suddenly imagining that she’d suffered something awful and he’d been unavailable to make it right.
“I’m fine. It’s just that no one ever gave me flowers before.”
“Well, they should have,” he said, as he pulled her into the shadows of the hallway leading to the dressing rooms. “But I can’t say I’m sorry I’m the first. I want to be special in your eyes.”
“Oh, Tyler, you already are. You can’t know how much!”
Well, darlin’, maybe I do, he thought. “That’s great to hear,” he whispered, letting his hands roam around her waist only to fasten tightly behind her back. “Move the flowers, Amber. I have a need.”
Her arm dangled limply at her side, the flowers swaying against her leg as Tyler’s mouth took license with her lips. Firmly yet tenderly, he started with the corners, moving across toward the middle and then on to the other side, allowing his tongue to trace the path he was taking on instinct.
Amelia shuddered, and then gasped as he centered his mouth on her mouth and himself on her. With the wall at her back, and Tyler before her she had nowhere to go but crazy. And when his tongue slipped between her lips, and his hands between their bodies, she did just that.
Tyler hadn’t intended for his feelings to get so swiftly out of hand. He groaned as Amber dropped her roses and wrapped herself around him, giving back as much and more as she was getting. At that moment, he forgot his intentions and wished to be anywhere but here in a darkened hallway of The Old South.
“Hell, darlin’,” he said softly, regaining some of his sanity when they came up for air. “I didn’t mean for this to go so far.” And then he grinned at the bewildered expression in those eyes he so loved. “Well…that’s not quite truthful. I fully intend for this to go much further between us, but not right here.”
Amelia blushed, then hid her face against his shirt. From the moment Tyler Dean Savage had entered The Old South, she’d lost every ounce of good sense that Wilhemina had been drumming into her head for the past twenty years.
“Have mercy, Tyler, you’re driving me crazy and that’s a fact.”
Tyler took a deep breath. Now was the time to drop his bombshell. He almost hated to do it, because he knew when he did she was going to withdraw, and losing his hold on this woman, even temporarily, was almost more than he could bear.
Tyler gritted his teeth as he took a stand. A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do. And I’ve got to find out if I’m going crazy, too. If you really are Amber Champion, my darlin’, I’ll make this up to you some day. But if you’re also Amelia, I’m going to make you pay for the sleepless nights. Then and only then, can we spend them together, forever.
He nuzzled the corner of her ear. “Amber?”
“Hmmm?” she mumbled, trying to focus on what he was saying and not what he was doing.
“I know The Old South isn’t open on Sunday morning, so I got this idea.”
Amelia tensed. She didn’t like the sound of this.
“How about going to church with me? I want you to meet my friends—show you off a little bit. What do you say? I go to church in Tulip and I know that you’d enjoy the services. Afterwards, we could go out to my place, maybe have a picnic. I could show you my farm, and the crops, and whatever else I have you might be wanting to see.”
He grinned, waiting for the last of what he’d just said to sink in. The shock on her face signaled reception of the sexual innuendo. The panic in her eyes told him the rest of his proposal was also received.
Amelia pushed herself away from the wall. “Oh Tyler, I can’t. I’d truly love to. But I just can’t.”
He pretended to frown. “I don’t see why not, unless you ha
ven’t been entirely honest with me. You said there was no one else. Maybe you were lying to me, Amber. Were you?”
The frown was fake, but Amelia was too upset to notice. She’d known something like this might happen. She just hadn’t expected it to come on the heels of Effie’s discovery.
Oh God, what should I do?
If she told him the truth, there was no way of guessing how he’d take the fact that he’d been tricked about her identity. Lots of men didn’t like to think that could happen. Even worse, how would a sexy man like Tyler accept the fact that he’d been hornswoggled by a sexless librarian.
“No, I wasn’t lying to you,” she argued. “But there’s still something I have to work out concerning my private life. When I do, you’ll be the first to know it. Until then, you’ll just have to trust me.”
Tyler turned his back on Amber, trying desperately not to grin and give himself away. She was doing exactly what he’d expected. He’d been right!
Lowering his voice to imply hurt that wasn’t there, he let his shoulders slump. “I don’t know that I can, Amber. Trust is a two-way street. I trusted you. But you obviously don’t trust me enough to explain the situation. I don’t think this relationship has any place else to go.”
He started to walk away. Amelia was in shock. She was about to lose the only man she’d ever loved and all because she’d lied about who she was. He’d gone and fallen in love with someone who didn’t exist.
“Tyler! Wait!”
But he only shook his head and walked away. Amelia stared down at the flowers on the floor and then turned her face to the wall and wondered how long it would take to die on the spot.
Raelene poked her head around the doorway, frowning at what she saw. “Hey, are you all right?”
Amelia swiped at her tears and plastered a sickly smile on her face. She had to get through this night somehow. When she got back to Tulip, then she could cry. Now was not the time because it wasn’t the ladylike thing to do.
“I’m fine,” she said. And then she tilted her chin and stepped over the flowers lying on the floor.
Amelia stared at her reflection in the mirror over her vanity. She debated with the idea of leaving her hair down as she had a few days earlier. Eyes shadowed from sleepless nights stared back at her, accusing her of losing the only man she’d ever truly loved to a woman who didn’t exist.
Amelia grabbed a hairbrush and began to wind her hair up into its usual topknot. “I don’t get it. All I wanted was to buy a car, not ruin my life. How did this get so messed up?”
As she jabbed the last hairpin in place, she relished the pain as pin connected with too much scalp. She deserved it and more. If a miracle didn’t occur, she’d already lost Tyler.
She belted her dress, turning first one way and then the other before the dressing mirror, checking the hemline for a drooping slip. There was none. Just long legs beneath a long beige skirt, and beige was not her color!
For a moment she toyed with the idea of wearing that red dress to work that she’d purchased for her date with Tyler, picturing the heart attacks that would follow. The notion quickly passed. She wasn’t up to any more upheavals.
“Ahmeelya!” Wilhemina called loudly from the foot of the stairs. “Are you ready to go? You’re going to be late.”
Amelia rolled her eyes. It was the same thing every morning. Aunt Witty felt obligated to hurry her along when in actuality Amelia had never been late to work a day in her life.
“Coming,” she called.
“Here’s your lunch,” Wilhemina announced, thrusting a paper sack into her niece’s hands. “Don’t forget to put it in the cooler when you get to the library. It’s tuna fish and it would spoil.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Amelia started out the door when something, either a tug of conscience or the need to be held, halted her exit. She turned.
Wilhemina gave her niece a cursory once-over. She looked presentable and unobtrusive, just the way a lady should appear. “Did you forget something?”
“Yes, ma’am.” With a long, heartfelt sigh, she wrapped her arms around her aunt’s bony shoulders, buried her nose in the familiar scent of rose water at the collar of Wilhemina’s dress, and hugged.
Wilhemina was in shock. She’d couldn’t remember when her niece had been so demonstrative. “Why Amelia! There, there,” she said, awkwardly patting Amelia’s back. “Go on with you girl,” she said, masking her emotion with a swift sniff.
Amelia sighed again as she headed out the door.
“I’m making apple dumplings tonight,” Wilhemina called out. She hadn’t intended to. The thought had come about the same time Amelia had hugged her.
Amelia paused and then smiled. “Good. I’ll save room for two.”
Rosemary dawdled out of the flower garden and onto the porch just as Amelia was driving away. The wilting bouquet of bachelor buttons she’d cut hung precariously from a basket filled with everything from the weeds she’d pulled to a terrapin she’d fished from the azalea bed.
She dropped wearily into the wicker chair beneath the veranda’s welcome shade. “I heard you through the open window, Sister. You only make apple dumplings on special occasions.”
Wilhemina’s mouth pursed, unwilling to admit that the reason she’d said what she had was from love, not duty. “So?”
Rosemary fiddled with her hat and dropped it and the basket with its interesting contents beside her chair. “So, did I forget someone’s birthday?” Her eyes lit up. “It’s not already Independence Day, is it?”
“Rosemary!” Wilhemina’s sharp voice changed the route of their conversation. Both forgot what they’d been talking about as the terrapin waddled its way out of the shallow basket. “There’s a terrapin in your basket!”
Rosemary rolled her eyes. “I know that. I put it in there. Sometimes I think you don’t give me credit for anything, Willy.”
Wilhemina frowned. “Sister, why would you put a terrapin in the flower basket?”
“Where else would I put it?” she asked, astonished that Willy had to even ask. “My pocket is too small, of course.”
“Of course,” Wilhemina muttered. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
Rosemary smiled. It was an angelic smile that lit up her face and took years off her eighty-something countenance. She patted her sister’s wrinkled hand and leaned back in the chair, relishing the breeze that had just sprung up.
“It’s all right, Willy, dear. That’s why you have me.”
Tyler’s eyes narrowed as he watched Amelia park the family Chrysler beneath the twin magnolias beside Cuspus Albert Marquiside’s marker. The stiff breeze that had blown up only minutes before quickly plastered the skirt of her dress against those long, shapely legs. He smiled to himself, thankful that he was the only male in Tulip who knew what charms lay beneath that colorless exterior.
He’d been waiting forty-five minutes for the library to open. Never having frequented the establishment, he’d been unaware of their business hours, but he had a need to visit Miss Amelia Ann and make use of her knowledge as Tulip’s librarian. He fully intended to get under her skin just as deftly as he’d perturbed Amber. And he knew just how to do it.
Sighing in appreciation for the way the wind had outlined that marvelous figure for his eyes only, he watched her unlock the library door and slip inside, then he waited. When he went in, he intended to be the only customer. To his relief, no one came, and when she turned the Closed sign to Open, he made his move.
Amelia was changing the due date on the stamp she used to mark books when Tyler walked in. She closed the lid on the stamp pad and swallowed twice in rapid succession. In all the years she’d worked as librarian, Tyler Savage had never once visited the library. Her mind raced at the implications of his appearance this morning.
“Morning, Miss Amelia,” he said softly.
“Mr. Savage.”
Her greeting was short and succinct. She was still very angry with him for walking out on her last
night at The Old South, although to be fair, it wasn’t actually Amelia he’d left standing, it had been Amber.
He smiled slowly, then leaned forward until he was nearly nose to nose with her shocked expression.
Amelia was so surprised by his unexpected behavior she forgot to move. When she realized she could feel his breath against her lips, she jerked back in confusion and shifted her glasses to a more comfortable position across her nose.
“Was there something I could do for you?” she asked, and hated him when his blue eyes sparkled. The cad! He was reading something into her offer other than what she’d intended to imply.
He straightened up. “You could say that.”
In spite of it all, she was just the least bit pleased that he was going to get a glimpse of her in action doing the job for which she’d been trained. She held her hand poised above the old-fashioned card catalog, ready to search out the volumes he would request. “That’s just fine. How may I be of service?”
“It’s like this…last night I couldn’t sleep.”
Shock spread across her face.
“And so I watched a late-night show on television that I don’t normally watch.”
This was getting her nowhere. “Yes?”
“They mentioned a book that I thought sounded interesting. One I think would probably be well worth my time to read.”
Amelia was surprised. Tyler was a lot of things, but a bookworm she would not have suspected. “That’s fine, Tyler,” she said. “What was the title?” Her fingers remained poised above the cards.
He stared up at the ceiling, as if trying to remember. “Ummm, I think it had something to do with sex.”
Amelia tried not to stutter and dared not stare. “Excuse me?”
“Now I remember! I think the book was called The Joy of Sex. It sounded really interesting. Ever read it?”
Tyler was enjoying the shock and reluctant intrigue that kept appearing and disappearing in those beautiful blue-green eyes. Even behind those old-fashioned glasses he could see her distress—and her interest.
