Amber by Night

by Sharon Sala

  “Oh no,” he said, knowing full well how Amelia was going to take what he said. “You can impose on me any time you wish. I’m all yours.”

  Amelia tried not to blush. She knew darn good and well how much of him there was to take. Just thinking about it made her weak at the knees.

  “And that reminds me, Amelia,” Tyler continued, “I don’t know what you have planned for today, but I have several errands to do in town and if we do them before you take me home, it might make you late getting home. If that’s a problem, why don’t you take me to the farm and I’ll get my own truck. I can always come back in and…”

  “Don’t be silly. You went out of your way to return our property. The least I can do is return the favor.” She picked up her purse. “Are you ready?”

  He smiled slowly. “Yes, Amelia. I believe I am.”

  She looked everywhere and at everything but him as they walked out the door. The devil. He was flirting with her in the most devious manner. Everything he said had a sexual connotation that, thank God, only she understood. It did nothing to embarrass her aunts and did everything to undermine her willpower.

  “Where do you need to go first?” she asked, as Tyler crawled into the seat beside her.

  “To bed with you.”

  Amelia stared. He wasn’t kidding. The look in his eyes would have melted train tracks.

  Her voice was breathless and more than slightly interested. “You don’t have any errands?”

  “No, darlin’, I really don’t. What I said was a lie. I wanted to take you home and make love to you. Somehow I didn’t think your aunts would be interested in that particular fact.”

  “Oh, God,” she moaned, and slammed the car into gear.

  Tyler grinned. “No use talkin’ to Him, He’s on my side. Want me to drive?”

  She spun out, leaving a flurry of new-mown grass and leaves in the air behind her as she headed for Main Street.

  A trail of clothing began just inside Tyler’s front door and continued all the way down the hall, ending at the foot of his bed. It was an incriminating trail of lust.

  Tyler lay on his side with his head propped in one hand while his other hand traced the curves of Amelia’s lush body. He had to admit that it was truly shameless the way he kept coercing her into his bed, but he’d do it again in a heartbeat just to hold her in his arms.

  “Amelia…?”

  She closed her eyes and moaned when his fingers began to circle. “What?”

  He leaned over and kissed the tip of one breast. “You have the most glorious hair. Why don’t you wear it down more often? Every time I see it wadded up in that tight knot on top of your head I have the most awful urge to take it down and your clothes off. Do you know what thoughts like that do to a man in public?”

  She gasped as his hand slid up her stomach and came to rest above her rib cage. “I’m beginning to understand.”

  “I hope you do.” He lifted himself up, then across her, pinning her to the bed. Moving in a slow, almost undetectable motion, he watched with delight at the way her pupils dilated with renewed passion. “You have the most beautiful eyes. I don’t think I ever knew anyone with eyes just that color.”

  Amelia froze. Yes, you did. Have you forgotten how long you haunted a nightclub to persuade me…I mean Amber…to go out with you?

  Instead of answering her, he began to rock himself against her. Just a little. Not too fast. And she forgot poor Amber who’d been dumped.

  Tyler buttoned the last button on her dress and then teasingly held her hairpins behind his back, knowing full well she couldn’t go home looking as if she’d just been taken to bed.

  She laughed, grabbing toward his hands to retrieve the pins. “Please, Tyler, you know I can’t go home looking like this. Aunt Witty would have a stroke and Aunt Rosie would ask me if the next time she could watch. I have a difficult enough time living in both worlds.”

  He paused. He’d never considered all of this from her point of view. It made everything she’d done suddenly seem plausible…even rational. He handed her the pins.

  “What’s going to happen to us if your Aunt Witty won’t accept me? Who loses? Me…or the aunts?”

  Tears welled. She ducked her head and buried her face against his chest.

  “I don’t want to have to choose. Why must I choose, Tyler? Why can’t I have both?”

  He wrapped his arms around her shaking shoulders. “Oh, darlin’, I didn’t mean I wanted you to choose. I’d take all three of you in a minute. You just say the word and I’ll move every one of you out here if that’s what it takes to get you in my life. And I’d never regret or resent it a bit.”

  Amelia sighed. There were still so many problems she needed to resolve before she could even consider happy ever afters with Tyler. There were too many yesterdays between them.

  She sighed and stepped back. “I know you think that, but they’re quite a pair. You don’t really know what you’re asking for.” Then she shrugged. “Besides, the point is moot. They wouldn’t leave their home and I can’t leave them helpless. I know they aren’t now, but someday soon they will be. It’s inevitable.”

  “Then we’d deal with that when the time came. Don’t borrow trouble, honey. If we take it one day at a time and share our feelings with each other, there won’t be any hard feelings—or secrets between us.”

  It was the mention of “sharing” followed by “secrets” that made her sick. They were in love, had made love, and she had yet to confess her own secret. How was Tyler going to react when she finally told him? Oh God, how has my life gotten into such a mess?

  She kissed the edge of his lower lip and then glanced out the window. “It’s nearly dark. I guess I’d better go. I don’t want them to worry.”

  As they walked outside to her car, he held her hand just that little bit tighter. Letting her go was the hardest thing he ever had to do, but he’d seen the hesitation in her eyes. He’d given her several openings to bring up her past and each time he’d seen panic flare and then watched as she let the moment pass. He sighed. One day she’d get up the courage, and when she did, he had something he wanted to say to her, too.

  “I love you, Amelia.”

  She grinned and threw her arms around his neck, then batted her eyes, pretending to simper like an old-fashioned, southern belle. “Oh, Tyler, you say the nicest things.”

  He laughed aloud. She was such an enchanting mix of stiff-backed librarian and sexy tease. Then to his delight, she pressed a swift kiss against his earlobe and then whispered softly.

  “I love you, too, Tyler Dean.”

  It was several long moments later before he even knew she was gone. He’d been too lost in the wonder of hearing her say those words for the first time.

  But when he walked back inside the house, he began to smile. There, hanging on the pink lamp shade his mother had purchased at Delia Mae Birney’s Going Out of Business sale, was Amelia’s bra.

  His grin broadened as he pulled it down from the shade, and wrapped the bits of elastic and lace around his fingers. It was a good thing she was wearing a dress that didn’t cling because Miss Wilhemina just might send the sheriff and his dogs out looking for him.

  “Well, hell,” he reminded himself, as he stuffed it in his bureau drawer. “She’s worth at least a tar and feathering…if not a hanging, anyday.”

  Wilhemina stood in the doorway of the washroom with an armful of lingerie in her hands. “Rosemary, I must have dropped some of Amelia’s undergarments. Would you please go upstairs and check the hamper?”

  “How do you know you dropped something if you can’t see it?”

  She sighed with aggravated impatience. “Because I counted. I have six pair of nylon briefs and only five foundation garments. Therefore…I must have dropped one.”

  Rosemary stared. “You mean you count our panties?”

  Wilhemina had the grace to flush. “Not exactly…but it seems only sensible to make certain that I have all the wash before I start the machi
ne.”

  Rosemary was appalled that even at their ages, she was learning of still another of her sister’s foibles.

  “And why you insist on calling a brassiere a foundation garment is beyond me, Sister. The fashionable thing is to call them ‘bras.’ I have even heard them called holsters, but I think that’s a bit…”

  Wilhemina gasped. “My stars! Just go upstairs and see if I dropped one, will you? I still have trouble negotiating those stairs. Too many trips up and down makes my ankle swell.”

  Rosemary sighed. “Oh, all right, but I think you’re making a fuss over nothing. If you missed it this time, you can always wash it later.”

  Wilhemina glared.

  Rosemary hastened to do her sister’s bidding. It was a habit too old to break.

  But to Rosemary’s dismay, there were no wispy undergarments in the hallway, nor in the hamper inside Amelia’s room and knowing Willy, she couldn’t go back without it. She sat on the side of the bed, puzzling the whereabouts of the missing bra when Amelia came into the room.

  “Why, hello dear,” Rosemary said, as a smile of welcome beamed across her face. “You’re just in time. Willy sent me up here to find the rest of your laundry.”

  The smile on Amelia’s face stopped just short of wide. She had a horrifying suspicion of what Aunt Rosie was going to say next. “Laundry?”

  Rosemary giggled girlishly. “Actually it’s just one of your bras. Did you know that Willy counts panties? I swear, that woman is losing her marbles, don’t you know.”

  “Panties?”

  Amelia could definitely remember coming home wearing panties, but she’d missed the bra almost the moment she’d started up the stairs to her room. The gentle and unmistakable sway of unfettered breasts beneath her dress had been all the reminder she needed to remember that she’d left more than her heart with Tyler.

  Rosemary continued as if Amelia had never answered. “Actually, she counts everything, and she swears that she dropped one of your bras when she started the wash. Do you know where it might be?”

  Amelia rolled her eyes. She knew very well where it was. However, she seriously doubted that Aunt Witty would want to know.

  “I’ll look,” she said. “Why don’t you go on back to your television program? I’m sure it’s around somewhere.”

  Rosemary beamed again. “Thank you, dear. You’re so thoughtful.”

  When Rosemary was gone, Amelia dashed to her dresser and pulled out a clean brasserie, rumpling it a bit before running into the bathroom to spray it with deodorant. She took the stairs back down two at a time.

  “Here it is, Aunt Witty,” she said, and dangled the bra over the washer before stuffing it in with the rest of the lingerie.

  Wilhemina nodded, satisfied that she’d been justified in her worry.

  Amelia watched the bra disappear beneath the soap and water as it mixed with the rest of her wash. If only my problems could be washed away as easily as this. I’ve got to find a way to tell Tyler the truth, and I’ve got to do it soon.

  Twelve

  Wilhemina stood on the front porch, watching the man from Atlanta driving away with the Chrysler.

  Rosemary sniffed and then blew her nose briskly. “I truly loved that car,”

  “Yes, I know, Sister, but I think this is compensation enough for the vehicle.” She waved the five thousand dollar cashier’s check beneath Rosemary’s nose and then folded it and slipped it into her pocket.

  Rosemary beamed. “And we’d have none of this if it weren’t for Tyler.”

  Wilhemina’s smile slipped. She hated to admit it but her sister was right. She turned, staring at the new window he’d helped replace after the storm, and the stump from the missing tree by the driveway that he’d helped clear away, not to mention the new roof that the insurance company had already completed.

  And all this had happened while she had lain helpless in a Savannah hospital. And then there were the changes she kept seeing in Amelia. It wasn’t only her style of dress, her behavior had definitely taken a turn, too. In her day, openly hugging or kissing a suitor hadn’t been done.

  Still, she had to admit that Tyler was nothing if not proper. But it still rankled that after all she’d done to insure Amelia’s well-being and behavior, it had only taken one man to undo everything she’d tried to accomplish.

  And then to her dismay, the object of her discontent came down the street and parked in their driveway. Rosemary ran to meet him, flitting through the grass like a schoolgirl.

  “Why, Tyler! If you’d only been a few minutes sooner, you could have spoken to your friend from Atlanta,” Rosemary said, and beamed as Tyler bent down and kissed her cheek.

  “Sold the car, did you?” he asked, and tried not to smile at the wistful expression in Rosemary’s eyes. Remembering her trip to his farm still gave him the shudders. Selling it had happened none too soon.

  Wilhemina bristled as she watched her sister accept his familiarity. He’d better not try anything so forward on her! She wasn’t the kissing type.

  Tyler eyed the elder sister as he stepped onto the porch, figuring that he’d given her enough time to adjust to the fact that he was on their property.

  “Miss Wilhemina,”

  “Amelia’s not here,” she said shortly.

  “Yes, ma’am. I didn’t come to see her. I came to see you.”

  She flushed. She hated confrontations. “I suppose since you’re here you may as well come in,” she said grudgingly.

  She had no intention of having a disagreement in plain sight of Effie. She no longer came to their house everyday, but she’d taken it upon herself to drop in way too often for Wilhemina’s peace of mind.

  “If you don’t mind, ma’am, I’d rather sit out on your front porch. As you can see I’m not clean enough to sit on any of your fine furniture. I came straight from the field to pick up a repair part. I’ve been wanting to talk to you when we wouldn’t be interrupted and this seemed as good a time as any.”

  Rosemary clapped her hands. “I’ll get us something cold to drink. You and Willy sit right down. It won’t take me a minute,” she said, and bustled into the house. Her tennis shoes made a squeak-squeak noise on the shiny hardwood floor as she hurried down the hallway and into the kitchen.

  Wilhemina slipped into one of the pair of wicker chairs on the veranda and then frowned as Tyler chose the porch swing instead. It was strange how alike men were. Poppa had always refused to sit in wicker, saying it wasn’t manly. Now, here was this man, two generations removed, doing the same odd thing.

  There was no point in wasting breath on small talk. It was obvious that he didn’t like her. Men never had. And that was all right, she thought, because she hadn’t liked them, either. “So, what brings you here?”

  “You,” he said quietly.

  His blue eyes pierced her conscience as she watched the lines tighten around his mouth, but she wouldn’t give an inch and waited for him to continue.

  Tyler settled into the swing and stretched his arms along the back, then pushed himself off with one booted toe and cocked his head, allowing the gentle rocking motion to calm the worry that had accompanied him to town.

  “You know that you and Miss Rosemary are the two single most important people in Amelia’s life. Personally, I think you’re all genuinely lucky. It’s rare that three women can live in a house together and remain friends as well as family.”

  Wilhemina blinked. It was an observation she’d never considered. Grudgingly, she had to admit he might be right.

  “I suppose, but Rosemary and I don’t agree on much of anything.”

  He smiled. “That may be so, ma’am. But I’d warrant that it does nothing to diminish the love you feel for each other…am I right?”

  She looked away. Focusing on the manicured lawns and the perfectly positioned flower beds, she thought over what he was saying and finally nodded.

  “So, where is this conversation leading, Tyler Dean, and don’t think I don’t know you want to
take Amelia away from us.”

  The quiver in her voice made him sad. He could see how deeply she was fighting her feelings. He also knew that she’d die before she cried in front of him.

  He stopped the motion of the swing and leaned forward, taking her shaky hands gently within his grasp. “No, dear. I don’t want to take her away from you. I want you to share her with me.”

  Forty years of suppressed tears shot forth. She blinked rapidly and tried to pull away from his grip. Instead, he gently placed a clean and folded handkerchief into her hands and then turned away, giving her time to compose herself.

  “Thank you,” she said, and blotted her eyes, resisting the urge to blow her nose. It wouldn’t be seemly to hand a handkerchief back in that condition, so she settled for a subdued sniff instead. His words had touched her deeply. It was time for her to face the facts.

  In her heart, she knew that despite his “bad boy” reputation, this man had done nothing but stand up for Amelia since he’d entered their lives. She also knew without a doubt that his appearance on their doorstep in the middle of the worst of the gossip had been an instant muzzle on the town of Tulip. She also knew that he was well-to-do and hard-working, and although he was a man, was a well-respected member of Tulip’s society. What he’d done for them after the storm was no small gesture, either. With a defeated sigh, she leaned back in the wicker chair and stared across their lawn.

  Tyler watched her from the corner of his eye. He could see her emotions were in upheaval. Her sense of fair play was playing hell with her opinion of the male species. That much was obvious. And the tears in her eyes told him, as nothing else could, that she truly loved Amelia and wanted the best for her. It was the first sign Tyler’d had that gave him hope.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked, and held his breath, praying that what she said would be the right answer. It was moments before she spoke.

  She handed his handkerchief back with an abrupt thrust of her hand, and then settled herself primly into the chair.

  “I think that it doesn’t much matter what I say. I think she’s going to do what she pleases.” She glared at him, daring him to contradict.