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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Making my way back to the couch, I grab my own blanket, and I fall asleep until the sound of my alarm wakes me. I open my eyes and look at it, seeing it’s five fifteen. Going to my bedroom, I walk straight to the closet and slip on my blue jeans and a black T-shirt. I walk out and stop in my tracks when I see her standing in the middle of the room. She looks like she is going to bolt. “Hey," I whisper, and she turns around. “Did I wake you?"

"No," she says. “I was …" She looks at me. “Where are you going?"

With a smile, I go over and grab my boots. “To the barn." I slip them on and then look at her. “You want to come?"

"To the barn?" she asks, her eyes going big.

"Yeah," I say. “You might not come back with white jeans, but we can always throw them in the wash.” I walk to the closet at the front door and grab a pair of sneakers I bought for her. "Let me go get you a pair of socks." I hand her the sneakers and go back into her room. Her black bag sitting in the middle of the bed makes me stop. Was she going to leave? I wonder, going to grab a pair of socks and then head back out to her.

“Were you going to leave?” I ask. She looks at me, the color draining from her face. “You were going to leave?”

“I was,” she admits. “I’ve taken enough of your generosity.”

“Where were you going to go?” I ask, trying to remain calm.

“I didn’t have anything planned, to be honest,” she says, setting down the shoes.

"Well, you aren’t allowed to leave town," I remind her. I don’t bother telling her that Jacob called me yesterday to tell me that she has been cleared of all wrongdoing, and she is, in fact, free to leave.

"I wasn’t going to leave town exactly," she admits, and I hold the socks out for her.

"Here.” I hand her the socks and then turn to walk to the fridge. “Did you even think about how anyone would feel?"

She looks at me, and I know that I should slow down and bring my voice down a bit. “Did you think about how I would feel coming in and seeing you gone? Or Amelia?"

"No.” She avoids looking at me. “The only thing I thought about was not putting anything extra on your plate. You have a business to run,” she huffs out. “And Amelia has two jobs, so the last thing she needs is to babysit me." She bends as she slips on the shoes.

"I didn’t think of anyone but myself," she answers. Seeing the tears she must have wiped away when she bent down, I hate knowing I made her cry. But the thought of her out there without anyone knowing is just too much. "I didn’t think about anyone else because, for the past fifteen years of my life, I’ve only had to worry about one person and one person only, myself." The burning in my stomach comes out of nowhere, along with the pain in my chest. “But for the first time, I was thinking about someone else." She doesn’t give me a chance to say anything. “Which way do we go? From the front or the back."

"We should take the golf cart,” I say and turn to walk toward a part of the house I didn’t show her. “This is the way to the garage,” I say when she walks slowly behind me.

I turn the light on and open the garage door. She gets into the cart, and I slip in behind her. "By the way." I look over at her. “The house is wired, so it would have alerted me had you opened the door.”

“Well, then there goes my plan to escape quietly into the night,” she says as she looks ahead.

We pull up to the barn, and I look over at her. “Welcome to Barnes Therapy." I get out and wait for her to get out. “You are seeing behind the scenes."

I walk over to one of the red doors and pull it open. I walk in a bit and turn on the lights. "This is all yours?" she says from beside me. Her eyes are wide as she looks around.

"This is one of them,” I say, walking in. “First thing I do when I come in," I say, “is start the coffee for my team."

"How many team members do you have?" she asks softly.

"At this location, I have about ten,” I say. “Do you want a tour?"

She tries to hide her smile, but it comes out anyway when she nods her head. “Follow me,” I say, turning to go to the closed door. “This is the office." I open the door and walk in to where an L-shaped desk sits in the middle of the room. She steps in and turns to look at the pictures covering the wall. "That is every person who has attended my therapy classes. There is more in the other offices also."


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