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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“You are all that and a bag of chips, Casey Barnes,” she says right before she nips my earlobe. I pull her hair back and attack her neck. “If you give me a hickey, I’m going to kill you,” she mumbles. I think about what it would be like to have my mark on her neck, and it just makes me lose control. I suck in just a touch harder, and she moves away. “Don’t you dare, Casey Barnes.” She makes me laugh when she uses my full name. I’m about to go in again when my phone rings, and I see her eyes go from light to dark.

“I have to …” I say as she untangles her long legs from my waist.

“I’m going to go lie down,” she says. She walks to her bedroom, and I don’t stop her to say she can use my room. The phone ringing again brings me out of my daze, and I see it’s Jacob.

“Yeah,” I say when I answer it.

“I just got off the phone with Grady. He saw a strange car around your property, and he pulled the plates.”

I close my eyes and hold my nose. “Let me guess? It’s stolen.”

“Well, the plates have never even been in the system. When he went back, the guy was gone.”

“What are the numbers?” I ask and get up to grab a pen.

“If we couldn’t find them in my system …” Jacob says, and I laugh.

“Humor me,” I say, and he shoots off the number. I snap a picture and send it to Derek. “I’ll let you know what I get,” I lie.

“Yeah, right,” he says. “How is she doing?”

I look back toward the hallway. “As can be expected.”

“Let us know if she needs anything,” he says before he hangs up.

I’m about to put my phone down and walk to her room when the phone rings again. This time, it’s Derek calling. “Hello?”

“Where did you get this plate number?” he asks right away.

“Jacob got it from one of his deputies,” I say. “Noticed a strange car. Ran the plates but got nothing.”

“I would say.” He laughs. “The plate must be code for something. I’m running it through a couple of systems. But I did get info on the guard who called in sick.”

“Yeah?” I wait for him to continue.

“His ex-wife received a wire transfer of twenty-five thousand dollars,” he says, “from an offshore account. The paper trail is going to need some looking into.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” I say and look over to make sure she isn’t standing there.

“None of this makes sense.”

“I was going to say the same thing,” he says, and I do something I know I should have done a while ago.

“I need you to run the name Dominic Albano,” I say.

“Why does that name ring a bell?” Derek asks.

“He was in the news the past couple of weeks.” I don’t say anything else.

“Didn’t he take a fuck ton of money from his investors?” he asks, and I don’t answer him.

“Is that what all this is about? What in the world are you doing up at that farm?” he asks, and I just shake my head.

“I think that if we find out what else Dominic is hiding, all the pieces will click into place.”

“Got it,” he says. “I’ll be in touch.”

I hang up the phone, then look out the window at the setting sun. I look up at the ceiling, and I pick up my phone one last time.

Me: I want a detail on the house. Round up the guys.

I don’t care what Jacob says. I don’t trust anyone but my guys at this point.

Chapter Thirteen

Olivia

My eyes open, and I gasp when I see that the house is pitch black. I sit up too fast, and when I lean out to catch myself, my hand knocks over the lamp on the nightstand. “Fuck,” I hiss but not before I hear him running in the house.

The lights are flipped on, causing my eyes to squint from the brightness. “What happened?” he asks. I look at him, seeing that he was sleeping. One of his eyes is still closed as he gets used to the brightness.

“I …” I lean down to pick up the pieces, and then I look up at him. He’s in shorts again and no shirt. “I woke up, and I got up too fast,” I say. “My head started spinning.”

“I’ll get a broom,” he says. “Don’t touch anything.” He is back before I can try to pick up anymore of it. “I’ll take care of this. You go sit on the couch.” I watch him as he cleans up the mess. Walking around to go to the living room, I find he was sleeping on the couch again. I look over at the clock in the kitchen and see it’s a little after midnight.


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