Southern Heat by Natasha Madison

Chapter 25

Quinn

I hold her hand walking into the diner because if she is feeling anything, her body will go tight, and I’ll feel it.

The last thing I want is for her not to be comfortable here. My goal is to show her why she should stay, and if she doesn’t like it … well, I wasn’t even going to go there because there was no way I was going to let her leave.

“Where do you want to sit?” she asks. Someone bumps into her, and she stumbles into my arms. I wrap an arm around her waist to protect her from falling. Her hands go to my chest as she looks up with big eyes. “You okay?”

“I’m so sorry,” one of the teenagers says as she turns to walk out.

“Do you want to go?” I ask, hoping she thinks about her answer so I can have her in my arms longer than I should.

“Hey, you two,” I hear behind me and look to see Chelsea and Mayson. “Oh, you got the sling off,” she says when she sees both of Willow's hands.

“I did,” Willow says and takes a step out of my arms. The arm wrapped around her waist falls to my side.

“That’s amazing,” Chelsea says. “Let’s grab that booth.” She points at a booth in the back that was just vacated by six teenagers.

Chelsea slips her hand in Mayson’s as they walk to the booth. “If you want to go.”

“I’m good,” she says, smiling, and turns to follow Chelsea. Her head dips just a bit as she tries not to make eye contact with anyone.

She slips into the booth in front of Chelsea, and I slip in beside her in front of Mayson. I see her eyes roaming all over the place as she takes it all in. “Are those jukeboxes?” she asks, pointing at a couple who are still here in some of the booths.

“Yes,” I tell her. “And they have songs from the eighties.”

Her eyes light up, and her mouth opens. “That is pretty cool,” she says, and then I hand her a menu. “I’m not hungry,” she says, ignoring my eyes. “I’ll have water.”

My heart speeds up, and I’m not the only one. “You will not,” Mayson says, looking at her, and then at Chelsea, who looks at him like he hangs the moon.

“I don’t really want anything,” Willow says, and I can see her finger tap the table, which means she’s worried about something.

“The burgers are where it’s at,” Chelsea says, looking at her. “But it’s a bit too much for me, so you want to split it?” I wait to see what she is going to say. Knowing full well it isn’t too much for Chelsea because she always finishes her burger.

The waitress comes over, and I order a double burger for myself with fries and rings with two root beer floats. Chelsea looks at me and orders the same thing. Mayson orders two of whatever I ordered, and he looks at the table. “I haven’t eaten all day.”

Chelsea starts talking about her week at the new clinic where she’s working, and when the root beer floats come, I put one in front of Willow, who just looks at me.

“What is this?” she asks, confused as to what the brown bubbly liquid is with the scoop of ice cream floating on top.

“This,” I say, handing her the long spoon and a straw, “is a root beer with a scoop of ice cream.”

“It’s to die for,” Chelsea says of her own now. “Try it.”

She puts the straw in and takes a sip. “That is a little weird,” she says and takes another sip, this time coughing. “The bubbles came out of my nose.”

I shake my head and watch her work her way through it until the burgers arrive. I look at Mayson, who takes one of his burger trays and hands it to Willow. “Here, I’m not hungry anymore.” I look at him, knowing he is lying, and then I look at Chelsea, who looks at me and then down, hiding a smile. “If you don’t eat it, it’s going to go to waste.”

“Dig in,” I say as she just looks down at the burger and then up again. “Eat.” Her eyes just look at me, and I can tell that her head is spinning, so I lean in and whisper in her ear, “You can pay me back when you cash your check.”

She tries to hide her smile as she looks down and grabs the burger in her hand and takes a bite. We eat in silence, and when I look over, she has polished the whole burger and almost all the fries. “Was it good?” I ask, and she nods her head at me and hides a smile.

I get up and hold my hand out for Willow, who slides out of the booth. “We didn’t pay the bill,” she says, looking around, and we all laugh.

“Oh, we never pay the bill,” Chelsea says. “They put it on the tab, and our parents pay it.”

“Wait?” Willow says. “What?”

“They started doing this when we were in high school, and even when we want to pay, they ignore us,” Chelsea says, sliding out of the booth and taking Mayson’s hand.

We walk out of the restaurant, and the sun is setting. “We are going to head home,” Chelsea says. “See you on Sunday.” She hugs Willow, who just looks at me, and I know she has questions.

When we pull up to the house, I get out, and she is out of the truck by the time I walk around. “Do you want to watch the sun set?” I ask. She smiles and nods.

I slip my hand in hers as though it’s a normal thing to do, and she lets me. Her small cold hand sits in my big warm one. We walk around the house as I close the gate behind us, the soft breeze blowing her hair. “It’s not hot,” she says as we walk up the step toward the swing.

I sit beside her as she looks off into the distance. “Did you have fun?” I ask her, putting my arm across the back of the swing.

“I did,” she says. “And you were right. The burger was amazing.” She looks down and then up. “What’s on Sunday?”

“Every Sunday, my grandparents have a barbecue. It started before I was born, and it has just grown into this big thing. Practically the whole town shows up.” My thumb rubs her shoulder softly, hoping she doesn’t move away from me.

“But …” She looks at me. “When I was in the hospital, you never left.”

“Okay?” I don’t know if she’s asking me or telling me.

“You didn’t go?” The wind picks up just a touch, and the hair flies in her face. My hand comes up to push the hair away from her face. “You never left me.”

My thumb moves across her cheekbones. “No,” I whisper, my head is moving closer to hers. “I never left your side.” My head dips just a touch more, and I am so close to her lips I can taste the kiss.

“Quinn, I should get to bed.” My hand falls from her face, and I just look at her.

“Let’s get inside,” I say, getting up and holding out my hand to her. She slips her hand in mine, and even though I hate myself for not taking the kiss I’ve been dreaming about, I won’t push her. She is the one who will lead where this goes. We are going to do things on her time.

I unlock the door, and she walks in before me. “Thank you,” she says and then turns around. “For today.” She wears the biggest smile I’ve seen on her face. “Even the root beer float.”

I laugh. “Anytime, Willow,” I say. She nods and heads to her bedroom. “Good night, Willow.” She looks over her shoulder at me. “Sweet dreams.”

“You, too, Quinn,” she says softly. I walk to the couch and turn the television on, but my head is on the girl sleeping in the bedroom. I doze off and open my eyes when I hear Amelia come in. I look over and see that it’s just after two in the morning. I wait for her to go to her room before I get up and walk to her bedroom.

I push open her door and see her sleeping in the middle of the room, wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Walking in, I see the two black bags side by side. Something eats me inside at seeing that. I put the cover over her and walk out before I unpack the bag for her. When I slide into bed, my eyes don’t close all night. All I can do is see the two bags in my head. Every single time I close my eyes, that’s all I see.

When the alarm rings the next day, I’m not surprised she’s already waiting for me in the kitchen. “Morning,” I say, almost grunting at her. My nerves are on edge when I see her wearing what she wore yesterday to the barn. “Ready?” I ask, and she nods and walks outside.

She gets into the golf cart beside me, and I can’t help the anger that runs through me. I open the door and saddle the horses, then we ride side by side, neither of us saying anything. I don’t trust myself to say anything to her.

When we get back two hours later, I get off the horse first, and then she slides off Hope. “Is everything okay?” she asks, holding Hope’s reins as we walk back into the barn. “You’re very quiet today.”

“Yeah,” I say and then turn to look at her.

“Are you okay?” she asks again, and I know I have to tread carefully. I know I shouldn’t say even one word, but looking at her, with the sun shining on her and seeing her so much stronger, I can’t stop the words from coming out.

“Why haven’t you unpacked?” I ask, and she just looks at me. “You haven’t unpacked. You sleep on the top of your bed. When …” I ask, throwing my hands up. “When are you going to fucking unpack?”

“I don’t …” She looks down, and I shake my head. God, how can she not see how much I want her here?

“Yeah, I know you don’t want to.” I shake my head and walk into the barn. I have to get away from her before I say things that will hurt her even more.

I listen to her put Hope in her stall as I walk into the office and close the door. I sit down behind my desk, letting the anger leave me. I put my head back and close my eyes. I hear people arrive, and I walk out of the office. I start the coffee, and only when it’s done and I’ve had a cup do I walk down to offer her a bottle of water. I poke my head into the stall and see that she isn’t there. I check all the stalls, and I can’t find her anywhere.

“Have you seen Willow?” I ask Asher, who is unloading bales of hay.

I look around and see that the golf cart is gone. “Fuck,” I say and then look at him. “I need your truck.” He must hear the panic in my voice because he closes the back of the truck as I run toward the driver’s side. I get home and see that my truck is the only one in the driveway.

I put the truck in park and get out, jogging to the front door. “Willow!” I yell her name and run to her bedroom, seeing it empty. My eyes scan the room, and I see only one black bag there. “Fuck,” I hiss, the pain in my heart coming on so strong I have to sit down on the bed. “She’s gone.”