Southern Comfort Read online Natasha Madison (Southern #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Southern Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
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“What difference does it make that I can fly in a private jet?” I ask, leaning back, and she glares now even more than she did before.

“You think I give a shit that you can get a private jet to fly you all over the place?” She leans in now. “I’ve flown on private jets.” She comes in closer, and her eyes go from a light to a dark, and it’s when she is getting all up in a fit that I kind of love her the most. It’s the time when I want to kiss her until the light comes back into her eyes. “I’ve eaten caviar on private yachts in the middle of the Mediterranean,” she hisses. “So I couldn't care less about this. I care more that you didn’t tell me. You told me when we were by the creek that you wouldn’t lie to me.”

I’m about to say something when the flight attendant comes over with her water and then looks at me. “We are ready to take off, Mr. Barnes.”

“Thank you,” I say, and then I watch Olivia as she looks out the window.

“It’s not that I didn’t tell you,” I start to say, and Olivia looks at me. “It’s just not part of who I am.”

“How can you say that?” she asks. “Are you or are you not sitting on a private jet right now?” Before I have the chance to answer, she continues, “Did you or did you not drive us here in a brand new car?”

“It’s not brand new,” I say as the wheels lift off the ground.

She shakes her head now. “You just don’t get it.” She looks out of the window, and I see her blink away tears.

I get up and sit in the chair next to her. “Darlin’,” I say her name quietly.

“It’s fine.” She tries to do the fake smile.

“It’s not fine,” I say. She looks at me, and for the first time, she admits that it hurts her.

“You’re right. It’s not fine,” she says, and I want to smile taking her in my arms for admitting that she isn’t always okay all the time. “I don’t care what you drive or what you fly in. I don’t even care what kind of house you live in. I care that you weren’t honest with me.”

“I never lied to you,” I say. “Not once.”

“No, but you omitted it,” she says and wipes away a tear. “I’ve been omitted my whole life,” she says, and I want to take it back. I don’t want to be one of those people who promised to say things or omitted.

“Darlin’,” I say, and not touching her makes my hand itch. “I’ve never thought of it that way.” I reach out now and move the hair out of her face. “Have you ever heard of CBS Corporation?”

“Casey,” she says my name. “Everyone knows who CBS Corporation is. They are all over my computer when I log on as the anti-virus kicks on. At the bank when you put in your bank card and it spins on the screen.” She starts naming every single place she’s seen my name. “Unless you live under a rock, you have heard of CBS Corporation.”

I take a deep breath and then come out with the news. “I’m CBS Corporation.” I watch her eyes as she takes in what I said.

“What do you mean?” she asks, not sure of what I said.

“I’m Casey Barnes Security. CBS,” I say again, and she looks at me.

“But …” she says, her mouth opening and closing. “How?”

“Well, when I was eighteen, I started playing around with the computer, and it turns out, I was really good at coding.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” she says, and I just laugh.

“Not many do,” I say and now take her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips. “When I left the rodeo, I was lost,” I say. “All I heard in my head were the words ‘he’s just a hick.’”

“Casey,” she says my name in a whisper, and I just shake my head.

“I know it’s stupid, and I know that you know the whole sticks and stones shit. I get it, but it’s just, those words they cut me. ‘Just a hick.’” I say what I’ve never told anyone before. “I took a step back, and I wanted to be more than that. I wanted to be more than what people thought I would be.”

“You are more than that,” she says. I don’t hear any sympathy in her voice. It’s soft, and it’s genuine, and it’s everything.

“It was a stereotype. I was a cowboy, so I couldn’t be anything else,” I say. “Then one day, I’m playing around with the computer, and I’m creating this whole thing. I was a natural with it, and I couldn’t explain it.” I shake my head. “I broke into the government website in three hours.” I laugh now when she gasps out. “I mean, I didn’t take anything, but I just did it because I could.”


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