My Hot Enemy – Southern Heat Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 59659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
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Grandma had passed just six years after my parents, leaving me alone by the time I was twenty-two. If it weren’t for people like Norma, I didn’t think I would have made it, really. Norma treated me like any other employee, but then would take me into the back and show me how things worked. Just in case I was curious. I always was. And learning the ins and outs of the store helped me feel more connected to the parents I was still grieving.

The main part of downtown was just beyond the park, a street over. Figuring I could do with some fresh air, I got out of the car and locked it up, heading down the sidewalk toward Main Street. When I got to the corner, I stopped and looked both ways before heading east. West would have the store five blocks away. East would eventually lead back through town and out the other side.

I wandered for a while, looking in various shops and kind of meandering. I had plenty of time before sundown, and since I was avoiding anyone and everyone from work, I had nothing much to do. It was kind of sad when I thought about it. I didn’t really have many hobbies. My only options for downtime seemed to be bubble baths and trashy TV. Maybe I should take up crochet? Or racquetball?

As I was wandering aimlessly through town, I ended up at a diner. It was a casual place, but not one I went to often. It had changed ownership since I was a little kid, and since it had been a place I occasionally went to with my parents, I’d lost the appeal of going there once the place changed too much. The only time I could remember even going inside was a couple of years before when it was still a place called ‘Maude’s.’

“Afternoon,” a waitress said as I sat down at one of the booths just inside. The place was empty, and I had barely gotten my ass in the seat before she was on me with a menu and silverware rolled up in a paper napkin.

“Afternoon,” I said.

“What can I get for you?” she asked, and I glanced at her nametag. Suzette was written in pink glittery marker, surrounded by a host of smiling faces and hearts.

“Just a water for right now,” I said.

“All right, I’ll grab that and be right back,” she said.

As she moved out of the way, I saw a familiar face coming in the front door of the diner. I stuck my hand up and waved and caught her attention, and she bounced over, smiling.

“Carmela,” I said, standing and offering a hug.

“Hey, Mel,” she said. “If I had known you were coming here, I would have planned ahead and made a date out of it.”

“I didn’t know I’d be here either,” I admitted. “I was supposed to be working.”

“Taking a mental health day?” she asked.

“Something like that,” I said. “Hey, where’s Cassie?”

“She’s with Mark,” she said. “Mark told me I had been cooped up around the house too much in the last week and I needed to get out and do something without worrying about the baby.”

“That’s awful nice of him,” I said, only feeling a little jealous.

Carmela had been a good friend to me since high school. Since I didn’t have many friends that had stayed in town, she was a rare breed. Most everyone else had jumped on the Wine Mom train, and that got old fast. But Carmela was something else. She was smart and fierce and would bend over backward to help someone she just met. It made her very good at her job as a family lawyer, and in fact, she had been the first person I’d thought about calling when everything went down with the board.

“Yeah, he’s kind of perfect,” she said. “But I told him I had no idea what I was going to do. I didn’t want to go into the office. I’ve gotten so used to working from home that putting on pants to work is… weird.”

I laughed.

“Sounds like a good problem to have,” I said.

“You would think so,” she said. “But when you work from home, everything tends to blend together, and suddenly you can’t remember what time of day it is or what day it is at all, actually.”

“The baby probably doesn’t help with that,” I said.

“Sort of. Sometimes Cassie cries at specific times for specific things. One cry she has I recognize as her ten-twenty feeding time. When I hear it, I know what time it is.”

“That’s crazy,” I said. “You’ve got it down to a science, though. That’s pretty cool.”

“I suppose. Anyway, enough about me. What’s up with you? I heard something about your family’s store being bought? Did you sell?”

I sighed. “It’s why I’m avoiding work, actually,” I said.


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