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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“That’s the plan,” I tell him, my eyes going back to the yellow pages. The book suddenly feels like it’s a hundred pounds on my lap.

"Willow,” he says my name, and I make the mistake of looking up at him. He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, which makes him that much more dangerous.

"Quinn,” I say his name and then look out the window at the lone bird flying in the sky. "Just drop it." I look back at him.

"I’ve learned in my family that you have to pick your battles,” he says. “Some are harder to win than others." He laughs. “You’ll see what I mean when you meet them." I want to scream at him to get out of my room. I want to scream at him that I don’t want to meet them. I want to scream at him because I’ve never wanted anything more in my life, and I can’t let myself wish for it.

"You did your duty," I tell him as I look at him. “You did everything you had to do. You found me, and you made sure I was safe." I swallow, trying to think about the words I’m about to say. “There is nothing left for you to do. This is the end of the road. I’m fine." My heart beats so loud it’s surprising no one can hear it.

He just looks at me as we have a staredown in the middle of the room. He doesn’t say a word to me. All he does is stare at me. And just like that, another chapter is closed. "I’m going to walk,” I say, getting out of the bed and walking out of the room.

"Are you going for another walk?" Shirley asks, and I smile at her, hoping that Quinn hasn’t followed me out.

"Just a short one,” I say to her as I walk down the hallway. "Do you like living here, Shirley?" I ask, and she nods.

"I would never live anywhere else,” she says as she walks beside me.

"Why?" I ask, and she looks over at me.

"We jumped from house to house," I tell her. “There was no place we went that I had a chance to settle."

"Oh, honey," she says with her soft eyes, and I have to admit I’m really going to miss her. "You need to plant some roots,” she says. “Make a list of things you want out of your life."

"I can do that." I smile at her sideways and then look back down again.

I make a mental note in my head while we walk in the silence. Someplace where I feel like I’m home, I tell myself. Someplace where I never have to hide. Someplace where I can sit out on a porch and not have to worry that someone will tell me I have to leave.

“I have no doubt you’ll see what is in front of your eyes this whole time,” she says and gives me a hug. “I have faith.”

I don’t say anything else to her, and when I walk back into the room, Quinn is in the chair, his eyes on his phone as he types away. “Are you tired?"

"A little,” I say, slipping into the bed, and no matter how much I fight it, my eyes give out, and I fall asleep. I wake a couple of times during the night, and every single time I look over at him, he is standing looking outside. He’ll be fine, my inner voice tells me. Everything is going to be fine. I close my eyes again, but I don’t fall back asleep for a long time.

I miss the morning sunrise, and when I open my eyes, he’s in the same spot, but he has a coffee cup in his hand from the vending machine. "Morning," I say to him as I blink away the sleep. He turns around, and I can tell that he’s been up all night.

"Hey," he says, turning. “You sleep good?"

"Better than you,” I say, sitting up in the middle of the bed. “I woke a couple of times, and you were standing, watching out the window."

He’s about to say something when we both hear a knock on the door. Our heads turn, and I see Chelsea standing there. “Good morning,” she says as she walks in with another blonde behind her. "Did you just wake up?"

"I did,” I say, looking at her and then the blonde, and I suddenly remember she was the one who brought something to Quinn the other day.

"This is my cousin Amelia,” she says, pointing at the girl beside her with her thumb. “Amelia, this is Willow."

"The famous Willow,” she says with a smile, coming to me. “It’s so good to meet you,” she says, and I see that she is holding a black bag in both hands. “How are you feeling?"


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