Southern Heat (Southern #6) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Southern Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 72616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
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Chapter 30

Willow

I stand by the window with tears streaming down my face watching him drive away from me.

His words play over and over again in my head. “I will never force you to do something you don’t want to do. Even if it kills me.”

I walk back over to the bed, sitting on it right next to the black bag. The black bag that I’ve had since I was seven. The black bag that I packed when I had to leave the only house I’ve ever known. Then I packed it every single time we moved, which I lost count at. It was finally the only thing in my life I cared about. It was my lifeline. And it just ruined the best thing I’ve ever had.

Every single day I fall more in love with this town. From the people who smile at me when I walk into the diner. To the people who come and say hello to me at the barbecue on Sundays. It’s like I’ve been here my whole life. Standing with him in this room and watching him, I know without a shadow of a doubt that this is where I want to be. And he is who I want to be with.

Every single day I fall more and more in love with Quinn. It happened without me even knowing what was happening since I have never loved anyone in my whole life. I want to be here with him.

I take the black bag and open it to find the clothes I put inside there the week after I arrived at the house. Three pairs of jeans, five shirts, five pairs of panties, and three bras. I place it all on the bed and then reach in and take out the hospital gown. I fold the gown back up and put it back in the bag.

I get dressed in a rush to go and find him to tell him that he won’t have to ask me to choose because I chose him a long time ago.

Rushing out of the house, I take the golf cart and make my way over to the barn. Walking in, I don’t see him, and I look around and see that he hasn’t been in yet because the coffee hasn’t been started. I walk over to the machine, pressing the button and then turn toward the office.

Seeing it empty, I grab the phone and call Mayson. He answers after one ring. “Hello.” After I had that talk with him on his stairs, whatever crazy bond we had was cemented even more.

“Hey,” I say softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” I say honestly, and I can hear him walking.

“It’s fine. What’s the matter?” he says, and I don’t know where to start.

“I,” I start to say. “Quinn took off, and I don’t know where he is.”

My voice goes soft now. “I have to find him.”

“Where are you?” he asks me, and I hear a car door close from the phone.

“I’m in the barn,” I say.

“I’ll be there in five minutes, and we can go and look for him,” he says.

“Okay,” I say and hang up the phone. Never have I had someone help me and be on my side, and when I see Mayson pull up three minutes later, I wipe the tears from my face.

“This is silly,” I say. “Maybe he’s back at home.”

“He’s at the office,” he says, and I look at him confused. “He’s at the headquarters.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I say.

“Get in, and I’ll take you there,” he says, and I open the door and get into the truck.

“Thank you,” I say softly when he pulls away from the barn. “For coming.”

“You would do the same,” he says, and I look over at him. “If I needed help, I know that you would come without asking any questions.” I think about his words looking out the window. My heart beats faster and faster as we pull up to another barn. This one however, looks different from all of them. I don’t know what it is. It could be that it’s painted white and a paved parking lot is all around it.

“Where are we?” I ask him when he turns the truck off. I open my door, stepping out, waiting for Mayson.

“This is where all the magic happens,” he says, walking to the door and opening it. I follow him in there, and the cold air hits me right away.

We walk into the cool barn and look at the five white desks in front of another wall. Each desk has a computer on it. “What is this place?” I ask Mayson, who just smiles at me.

“We call it Casey’s daycare center,” he says, walking to a door and putting his finger on the pad. The sound of the door clicking makes Mayson pull it open. “After you,” he says, and I walk ahead of him and take two steps into the room before I stop.


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