Justified Love (The Southern Gentleman Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

so well it disturbed me. I never lied to my Daddy, but all I wanted to do was protect him from the sad memories I was feeling.
     
                  As I pushed open the screen door and crossed over the threshold, the house felt familiar, and yet, foreign at the same time. I had been gone so long I forgot how much I yearned for the comfort of our home. Immediately, I felt the house was giving me a warm embrace saying, “Welcome home, Carrington. We missed you.”  I missed you, too.
     
                  Setting my luggage in the foyer, I caught the scent of Granny’s world famous chicken and dumplings.
     
                  “Is that the lingering smells of chicken and dumplings I smell?” I said salivating.
     
                  “We left you some in the fridge, if you’re interested of course,” Granny offered.
     
                  “Are you kidding me? I’ve been looking forward to your chicken and dumplings for weeks now.”
     
                  “Well, you’d better get something into that belly of yours before you head out tonight,” Daddy said with his over-protected voice. “I don’t wanna have to clean up the front yard again because someone couldn’t handle her alcohol,” Dad coughed out.
     
                  “It was one time,” I said defensively.
     
                  “Yea, tell that to the garden gnome sitting at the bottom of the town dump.”
     
                  “It’s not my fault he was in the line of fire.”
     
                  “Either way, eat before you go, please?”
     
                  “Of course Daddy,” I said leaning over giving him a kiss on the cheek.
     
                    His whiskers tickled my face as I backed away. Daddy wasn’t much of a bearded guy. He was more of a scruff, kind of man. Not a full beard, or clean-shaven, but just the perfect combination of facial hair. He was considerably taller than I was; I guess I got my height from my mama.
     
                  Slowly walking into the kitchen, the aroma intensified as if it had been on the stove all day. You couldn’t get food like this in New York. Oh, don’t get me wrong, restaurants tried, but you can’t fake good ole’ country cooking. Granny had only ever lived in the south, so her recipes always consisted of butter, lard and deep-frying everything, including pickles and green beans. No wonder I was overweight as a child.
     
                  Finishing up my generous portion, I scooted the chair back across the worn linoleum, almost knocking over the old metal fan on the counter. My father hardly ever put on the air conditioning in our house. He would sweat it out till the day he died if he could. He was hell-bent on keeping the unit off, only until Granny complained. Daddy was a mama’s boy so whatever Granny said, Daddy did. He was a brutish man, however when it came to Granny; he heeled to her every command. You don’t mess with Granny.
     
                As I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, I grabbed a hold of the banister where I had spent my childhood sliding down. Looking at the pictures on the wall, you would think this was the first time I had seen them. Walking up the stairs, I stopped at a picture of Mama and traced the outline of her glowing smile. She was stunning with her long auburn hair tucked under a sun hat. Looking back at Daddy and his camera, she smiled at him, showing off her incredible smile. Her freckles stood out in the summer sun, while her sunburnt shoulders shimmered in the rays. Granny always said I was the spitting image of her. Pulling my fingers away from the smudged glass, I forced myself to continue up the staircase. I hope I make you proud Mama. I miss you so much.
     
    Reaching my childhood room, I placed a hand on the brass doorknob. My palms were sweaty and clammy as I rotated the knob. Taking a