Southern Secrets (Southern #7) - Natasha Madison Page 0,24

house," I say, and his hand stops midway to his mouth. "Other than that, I think it’ll be fine."

"So the only thing you have a problem with is me having sex with other women?” he asks me and tries to hide the smirk by bringing the glass to his mouth.

"No." I ignore the pull to look in his eyes. "I have a problem with you bringing the women here to have sex."

"One," he says. "For the record, I would never disrespect you like that."

"Good to know," I say, ignoring the burning in my stomach. He didn’t say he wouldn’t have sex with other women. He just said he won’t do it here.

"I take it you don’t date," he says, and I finally look up at him.

"There is no time in my life to start dating," I say. "I worry about one person and one person only. Me." He just stares at me. I don’t add anything else to it because there is no need to. No one needs to know what I went through. I won’t even tell Chelsea, so the last thing I’m going to do is tell Asher.

"It’ll happen when it’s meant to happen," he says, and I just nod at him. "You ever fall in love?"

I think about my answer. I think about lying about it. "Yup," I say. "Long time ago. Found out it wasn’t for me." I look down and blink away the one tear that threatens to fall. I will not shed one tear for him. "What about you?"

He laughs. "Yeah, because everyone wants to fall in love with a homeless kid who lives paycheck to paycheck and had to work three jobs at one time because the only person he’s ever had stand by his side got sick and needed meds. In the end, nothing could save him, and he died." He shakes his head as I see him blink away tears. My hand flies out to touch his arm, and my thumb rubs his warm skin. "No, I’ve never been in love." I don’t move my hand, and his eyes go to my hand on his arm.

He walks away from me, my hand falling onto the counter. "Love, it’s a strange thing," I say, breaking the silence. He throws away his wrapper and looks over at me.

"If you say so," he says and walks toward the bedroom. "Thank you for letting me stay with you, Amelia." He looks down. "I’ll be out of your hair before you know it."

I just nod my head at him and watch him walk toward the bedroom. He closes the door softly behind him, and I want to go and ask him all the questions, but what right do I have. No right, because if he asked me, I don’t know if I would answer him.

Turning off the lights, I walk to my bedroom and slip into bed. I close my eyes, and usually I can fall asleep right away, but tonight, I hear his voice in my head. Have you ever been in love? The loaded question still hurts me to this day. I let the tear run down to my pillow as I fight back the memories that come with it.

That night, I dream about what could have been. What was supposed to be, but when I grab my husband’s hand, it’s Asher’s face that is there.

My eyes fly open, and I stay in bed until I hear him walk out the front door. When I walk into the kitchen, I spot the plate on the stove with a note on it. I pick up the white paper, reading what he left.

Didn’t want to wake you.

See you later.

A

I bring the note to my nose, seeing if it smells like him and then look around to see if he isn’t standing there watching me. I look over to see the coffee pot still on. Grabbing a cup of coffee, I eat, standing at the island.

I don’t see him that day, nor does he show up at the bar that night. I push the disappointment away from myself, and when I park in the driveway, his truck is there. When I walk in, I’m expecting to see him in the kitchen. The only thing that greets me is the soft light coming from the stovetop.

I toss my keys on the counter and walk to the stove, seeing a plate there with another note.

Your grandmother sent this for you.

A

I look toward the guest bedroom. The door is closed,