My Hot Enemy – Southern Heat Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 59659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
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“So,” he said after I made my pitch, “you want a business loan?”

“I do,” I said. “I know insurance will cover most of it, but we were planning on upgrades anyway and insurance won’t touch that. I don’t know exactly how much it will be yet since it literally just happened. I won’t know how much demo and rebuilding will cost.”

“Well, won’t it be the same as most any other grocery store demo and rebuild?” he asked. “I mean, if anything, it might be cheaper since the building is already half destroyed.”

“I guess,” I said.

“What I’m saying is, I’d be willing to sign off on a loan for you if you can guesstimate what you need. Just find a number and let me know. I’ll draw up the paperwork tomorrow.”

Happy I’d accomplished something even while lying in the tub, I felt a little more relaxed and got off the phone with Will with the faintest hint of a smile on my face. I pulled the plug out of the drain and checked the time as I dried off. It was just past seven. Shooting a text that I fully expected wouldn’t be responded to over to Melanie, I got into my shorts and shirt and stumbled toward the bed.

Just before I dozed off, I checked the phone one more time. When I saw she still hadn’t responded, I drifted off to sleep.

It had been three days since the tornado touched down and destroyed the store, and I still hadn’t heard from Melanie. Will had done a terrific job fast-tracking my loan, and I had a number to work with, giving me a chance to get a few calls in and hiring a demo crew to finish off the tearing down process. The insurance would be slower to respond since the town had a lot of damage to assess, but at least I could get started with the money I had on hand. The rest of it I wanted Melanie to be part of.

That meant I had to tell her what I was doing.

I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted to show her how much I thought of her and how I wanted to take care of her by setting this all up all while making sure she knew she was in control by not finalizing any new building without her input.

Pulling the phone out of my pocket, I collapsed into my recliner and held the phone to my ear. The call answered on the third ring, surprising me so much that I nearly dropped it when I heard Melanie’s voice.

“Yes?” she asked testily.

“Melanie?” I asked. “Hey. Please, give me just a minute to speak before you hang up.”

“Fine,” she said. “Go ahead.”

“I just want to discuss some things. I know this entire situation is difficult and confusing, but I would very much like you to come over for dinner and we can talk about all this.”

“Dinner at your place?” she asked, sounding rather hesitant.

“Yes,” I said. “If you’re not comfortable with that, then we can go somewhere else, but I would like it to be here if possible.”

“There is fine,” she said. “I don’t want to be out in public, to be honest.”

“Seven?” I asked.

“Tonight?”

“Yes,” I said.

There was a small pause on the other end. I could almost feel her waffling between saying yes and no. I didn’t blame her, but I was prepared to fight for that yes. I needed to see her, to explain things face to face.

“Okay,” she said, much to my surprise. “I’ll be there at seven.”

“Perfect,” I said.

Seven meant I had six hours to get the place ready. Plenty of time. The first step was the flower shop on Main. Then candles.

Lots of candles.

The next few hours were a flurry of activity, much of which involved me running around town collecting items, bringing them home, setting them up, and then deciding that I needed more. By five, the house was mostly ready, and it was time to prepare the meal. And by prepare, that meant order it special from Mero’s. I wasn’t taking a chance on my own cooking. Not tonight.

When seven rolled around, I had the main course heating in the oven, the appetizer already on the table, a bottle of wine in the chiller, and the candles lit. A car I didn’t recognize pulled in, but Melanie stepped out and walked to the door. I opened it with a flourish and watched her face as she saw the inside of the house.

“What’s going on?” she asked, a slight smile cracking the corner of her lips.

“I felt like you deserved a nice meal,” I said. “In a nice atmosphere.”

She stepped inside, and I led her to the dining room table, holding the chair out for her as she sat down, all without saying much of anything. Her eyes, though, told the story. She was enchanted, or at least enjoying what I had done.


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