Home > Southern Heat (Southern #6)(38)

Southern Heat (Southern #6)(38)
Author: Natasha Madison

“Quinn, he asked me why I haven’t unpacked,” I say.

“He’s afraid,” he says, and I just look at him with my mouth hanging open. How could the strongest man in the world be scared? “He’s afraid you’ll leave him. Afraid he’ll wake up one day and you’ll be gone.”

I close my mouth and then open it again. “Yet the only thing you are afraid of is that they’ll see the bad in you. That they will see everything that Benjamin did and put you with him.”

“I am not like him or my birth mother,” I say, my voice shaking now. “I would never be them.”

“See.” He points at me. “That right there is you taking your life back.”

“I like it here,” I say and then look down. “A lot.”

“It’s a great place to settle down,” he says. “I knew that after I came to visit Ethan. I knew I wanted to live in a town where everyone knew me, but not as Braxton but as Mayson. If there is anywhere to do that, it’s here.”

I’m about to say something to him when the door opens. “We have incoming,” Amelia says. “He is fit to be tied. Chelsea went outside to see if she can calm him.” She closes the door behind her.

Mayson shakes his head. “Gotta admit,” he says, getting up. “Took him longer than I thought. I’m going to go and save my woman.” He takes a step down. “You’re going to be okay, Willow,” he says softly and then turns. “No matter what, you have me in your corner. We may not be joined by blood, but our bond goes deeper than that.”

He turns and walks down the step and around the house. I sit here looking at the sun. My head goes around and around in circles when I see him walking to me. “Hey,” he says. Stopping in front of me, he blocks the sun. I look at him, seeing the anguish on his face. “I thought you left,” he whispers, shaking his head. “I’m sorry about before.”

“It’s okay,” I say. “I’m sorry for taking off and not leaving a note.” I look down.

He comes to me and squats down on the stair in front of me. “No, I’m the one who shouldn’t have pushed you,” he says. “I’m so, so sorry,” he says and takes me in his arms. His smell is all around me. “I was so scared you had left,” he says softly, and I just breathe in his smell. It’s a scent I didn’t even know I was used to. I also didn’t realize that with his arms around me, I felt a certain peace I couldn’t explain. In his arms, I also knew that everything would be okay.

“Okay, you two, come and eat,” Amelia says, opening the back door. “Breakfast is on the table.”

She closes back the door, and he lets me go and holds out his hand for me. “Hungry?” he asks, and I just nod.

I reach my hand out to his as I get up, and I let him lead me inside, where I sit down at the table, and I smile. But I still look around, catching Mayson staring at me. He just smiles back at me and leans over to me. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” I don’t have to answer him because my cheeks hurt from the smile on my face.

Breakfast is so good, and when we leave there, we go back to the barn, where I feed the girls and apologize to Hope. When I go home that night, I walk to the bedroom and don’t unpack my bag, but I do put it away under my bed. I take a shower, and for the first time ever, I slip shorts on and then a sweater. I walk out to the couch and see that he’s lying on the couch watching television. He looks over, and his mouth opens when he sees me wearing the shorts.

“I know that you bought all those clothes,” I say, pointing at the bedroom. “And I know that I probably can’t afford all of them.” I stop talking, and he sits up, and I hold up my hand. “But I want to pay you back something for them.”

“Willow,” he says my name.

“I also can’t pay you all in one shot,” I say. “And I know that you don’t want the money. I know you don’t need the money. But I need to do this. I need to pay you.” I point at my chest.

“Okay,” he says softly. “How much do you want to pay me?”

“I have no idea,” I say. “I didn’t count all of the articles.”

“Five hundred.” He gives me an amount. “Give me five hundred, and you can have all of those clothes.”

“Can I do that in five installments?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says, and I smile.

“Perfect,” I say, folding my hands into each other. “And thank you.”

“You never have to thank me, Willow,” he says my name softly. “Not ever.”

I nod at him, and all I want to do is sit with him on the couch, but I don’t want to intrude, so I turn around and take a step forward. “Willow.” I turn back around. “Want to sit and watch a movie with me?” I can’t even hide the smile that comes over me.

“Okay,” I say softly and walk over to one of the couches and tuck my feet under me.

“What kind of movie do you like watching?” he asks, and I just shrug.

“It’s safe to say that I’m not up to date with movies, so anything is fine. As long as it’s not scary,” I say, and all he does is nod, and for the first time ever, I fall asleep while watching a movie with a smile on my face.

 

 

Chapter 27

 

 

Quinn

 

 

“What does one expect at a county fair?” Willow asks me from the passenger side of the truck. For the past two weeks, we have been inseparable, and I haven’t been this calm in my whole life. It’s like she brings out the good person in me.

We wake up in the morning and watch the sun rise while we ride our horses. I haven’t told her yet, but Hope is her horse. Even if I didn’t want to give her Hope. Hope has chosen her. She refuses to let anyone near her, except Willow. We’ve taken the routine of going home and cooking together, something that she actually enjoys doing. Most of the time, we have to throw out the food, but the times that it does turn out, it’s really good. My favorite time of the day is when we sit on the swing outside after dinner. We don’t say a word to each other, but with my arm around her shoulders, we watch another day slip away from us. She sleeps under the covers when I check on her. She smiles more, she laughs all day long, and for just one second every single day, I close my eyes to listen to the sound of her talking or laughing.

“There are rides that we can go on,” I start to say. “Food, games, and sometimes even music.”

“Is everyone going to be there?” she asks, and I laugh. She’s been to two Sunday lunches, and each time, she’s come home exhausted from remembering everyone’s name.

“You will definitely see some familiar faces,” I say, turning into the parking lot and seeing that it’s already full. “But Grandma and Grandpa won’t be here.”

“Aww,” she says, looking over at me. “That’s too bad.” My grandparents love everyone. It’s in their nature, but to see Willow just open up to them is something I will never get used to. She probably doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. There is just something about my grandmother that leads everyone to tell her everything.

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