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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When I finally open the front door and walk into my house, I stop when I walk past her room and hear her. I turn to walk to her and see her turning to the closet and grabbing her stuff. My feet are stuck to the floor. I watch her walk back and forth to the suitcase twice before I notice that her face looks like she’s been crying. I stand here not able to say anything, wondering if she heard about Dominic and that is the reason she is crying.

“What are you doing?” The words finally come out. She jumps at the sound of my voice, and I see right away that she has a shield up. Her eyes are clouded over, and her smile is fake as fuck.

“Well,” she says, trying to sound upbeat, “I figured that you needed me out of your hair.” She puts the clothes into the suitcase, and I want to walk up to it and take them out. But not replace it in the drawers in this room. I want it in my room and the thought of her leaving is too much to bear. “I’ve been cramping your style for far too long.” She avoids my eyes. “I’m going to go and stay at Kallie’s house for now until I figure it out.”

“Until you figure out what?” I ask her, stepping into the room, the whole time my hands itch to grab her.

She drops the clothes into the suitcase and then looks up at me. “Until I figure out where the next step is.” I look at her up and down and notice that she changed from her dress and is now wearing shorts and a sweater. “One thing I’ve decided is that it’s not LA.” It’s almost as if she kicks me in the balls with that last sentence, but then it’s nothing like the next part. “It’s not my home.” She turns and walks back to the closet and grabs a handful of hangers. “I want to find a home.” She smiles sadly. “With everything that happened around me, I figured one thing out. I’ve never had a home. I’ve never had roots. I want to build a home and then plant all the roots.”

“Darlin’.” I say her name softly, and she blinks and looks down, but I can’t stop staring at the lone tear that rolls down her cheek.

“I know you won’t get it because you’ve had a home your whole life,” she says, taking the shirt off the hanger and then looking up at me. “So you probably think it’s silly, but …” She shrugs. “I want a home.” Her eyes glisten with tears. “I want a family that is my own. I want to bake and cook for them.” She laughs now. “I mean, I have to learn, but still. I want to.”

“Stay,” I finally say, my tongue finally working, and she looks at me. “Stay here.”

“What?” she whispers, and I take a step closer to her. “And I know that I said I didn’t know what love was or that I didn’t deserve it or the fact that I don’t want to have kids but ...” She shrugs, looking at me almost in defeat. “But I am worthy of love. I’m worthy of loving someone, and I’m worthy of someone loving me. I want to be a mother and a wife. I want all those things and more. You said yourself that you’ll never get married.” She reminds me of the words I told her, and I suddenly want to go back to that day by the creek and take it back. But I can’t touch her yet. I need to get this off my chest before I touch her.

“That was then,” I say. “That was before I knew how much I want to be married. I’m saying that because I want you to stay here with me. You once asked me about the room upstairs. Why I built it.” I take one more step. “And I told you I did it for my nieces and nephews, and I never said I did it for my kids, and the reason was because I was never going to get married.” I watch her as she processes what I just said. “I was never going to let myself get serious with someone. It was easier.” I take another step. “And then I met you.” My heart is beating. “I met you, and everything that I thought went straight out the window.”

“Casey,” she says, shaking her head and now a sob rips out of her.

“I watched you sleep last night,” I say. “I watched your chest rise and fall, and the whole time I told myself I wasn’t going to tell you how I felt because I didn’t want to pressure you into staying.” The tears that run down her face flow faster now. “I didn’t think I was good enough, or that I had what you needed. I didn’t have anything to offer you. I don’t even know if I have what you need or want but …” I shake my head, blinking away my own tears. “I want to build this home with you. I want to help you plant those roots, and if you don’t like it here, we can plant the roots wherever you want. The only thing I know is that you are the only one I want to do this with.”


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