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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“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.

I park the truck and get out, walking around and seeing her get out of the truck. Ever since she said she would pay me for the clothes, she’s been wearing new stuff. Not every day, but at least once a week, she wears a new shirt or new jeans. Just like today, she’s wearing pink shorts for the first time ever. Showing off her tanned, toned legs has my cock feeling like it is being throttled, with a black and white striped tight shirt showing off how tiny she is. White Converse are on her feet, with her hair blowing loose in the wind.

“Ready?” I say, putting my hand on her back. We walk toward the noise, and once we get close, I look over to see her eyes light up. I see the Ferris wheel going around and hear people laughing close by. I look over and see a couple of kids running around with balloons in their hands.

“Oh my gosh,” she says and looks over at me. “It’s like in the books.” She turns in a circle as she takes in the rides. “Oh, you can win a stuffy.” Her face lights up then she frowns and looks at me. “You told me not to bring money.”

Already, I let her pay me back a hundred dollars a week for her clothes. There was no fucking way I was going to let her bring money here. “I already paid,” I say. “I bought tickets from Harlow.” I look at her and pull out the two hundred dollars’ worth of tickets I bought. “It was for her school.” She just looks at me. “It was for her graduating class.”

“Why do I feel like that is just an excuse?” She looks at me, and I’m saved when I hear someone call my name. I turn and look over to see Gabriel running toward us.

I squat down and grab him up in my arms, looking over at Ethan, who walks beside Emily with his daughter on her shoulders. “I smell food,” I say, kissing Gabriel’s cheek.

“He just inhaled a whole funnel cake,” Emily says as she smiles and goes to hug Willow. Ethan looks at her and nods. We spend a couple of minutes talking before Gabriel squirms out of my arms and asks to go play a game.

“Where do you want to go?” I ask, and she just shrugs.

“Let’s just walk around,” she says, so I walk beside her. Our hands are grazing each other as we walk. My pinky is holding hers longer and longer each time, until I just take the jump and slip my hand into hers. She looks down at our hands and then looks up at me and smiles. If we weren’t in the middle of a fucking zoo, I would ask her if I could kiss her. I would push her hair behind her ear and beg to taste her.

“Oh, look.” She points at a shooting game. “You think you can win?” she asks, and I just side-eye her. “Should I ask Chelsea when we see her?”

“Very funny,” I say, pulling her toward the game. Her laughter fills my soul as I zigzag through the people. “Okay,” I say when I get up to the wooden table. Seven barrels are all the way in the back, and there are targets all over the place. There are circles and squares and a couple of five-star sheets.

“What are we going for?” the man behind the wooden table asks.

“What are the choices?” Willow asks the man.

“We have the small one for one shot.” He points at the small stuffed animals that are in a bin. “The middle one, you have to get three shots.” He points at the regular one. “And the top.” He points at the big stuffed animals hanging on the wall. “That you have to get five star targets.”

“Let’s do the five,” I say, putting money down on the table. He smirks at me and brings me an old gun, putting pellets in there. “Good luck,” he says to me, and I want to wipe the smirk off his face as I turn to look at Willow.



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