Amber By Night. Sharon Sala

Amelia asked.

      To bed! came the thought. “It’s a surprise.”

      Amelia grinned. “I love surprises.”

      “Then come with me, pretty lady. Your chariot awaits.”

      Amelia smiled. “It looks like a pickup truck to me.”

      “Looks can be deceiving,” he said, and then winked.

      Her smile slipped as she quietly took her seat inside the vehicle.

      Oh Tyler, you have no idea how deceiving.

      Meanwhile, a voice inside Tyler’s head was asking: Now what did I say to wipe that smile off her pretty face?

      But when he sat down beside her, the smile had reappeared and he shrugged off the worry. Tonight was bound to be awkward for them both. He didn’t know a thing about her except her name and where she worked. All in good time, he told himself as they pulled out of The Old South and headed into Savannah.

      In a short span of time, he’d parked. When he took her by the hand and led her toward the Savannah River and the night lights of the busy clubs on the boundary of the riverwalk, she started to smile.

      Threading his fingers through hers, he pointed down at the streets paved with ballast stone from old sailing ships. “Careful, it’s a rough walk.”

      As long as he was holding her hand she wouldn’t have cared if the surface had been covered with burning coals. And then she happened to look up.

      “Oh Tyler!”

      The paddle wheeler, The Savannah River Queen, was decked out in full regalia. Lights were strung from prow to stern, beckoning the daring to come take a chance in the dark—on the river—at night.

      “If you’d rather do something else…” he began, but her clutch on his arm told him no.

      “I’ve never been on a riverboat!” The wonder in her voice made him smile.