Reviving Haven (35 page)

“Latch, it
’s my parent’s house, not to mention I’m huge,” I grumble.

“I have a hotel room. You
’re the mother of my child. The woman I love. The woman I need to fuck, like right this minute,” he whispers, seeming slightly anxious.

“Okay,” I say quickly.

He looks at me with surprise. “Okay . . . really? Thank God, because this has been the longest drought of my life,” he says, looking relived.

“Let me go tell my parents,” I say. Horror flashes across Latch
’s face. “I’m not going to tell them
that
.” I laugh. “I’ll just say we’re going to dinner.” I lean against the railing of the stairs. “We’re leaving now! Be back later!” I giggle, because there is no doubt they’ve been listening.

“Ok, honey, take your time! Have fun!” My mom yells down.

I don’t hear anything from my dad; my mom has most likely muzzled him. I grab my purse as Latch grabs his jacket. We walk outside. The chilly air embraces us.

Latch stops me halfway down the walk. “You saved me,
leannán
.” His eyes meet mine and the look that passes between us is all knowing—and all loving.

“You saved me too, Latch. You revived something in me I thought had died. I
’m pretty sure we saved each other,” I say softly, my hand reaching to touch his cheek.

“
Leannán
. . .” My voice is just a whisper.

I look over at my husband, who
’s still asleep at noon. Even now, seeing him with the sheet pulled down to his hipbone, barely covering his ass, makes my breath hitch. Even though most of his bedroom hair gone, lost to the winds of change, he still is the prettiest man I’ve ever seen. Latch decided, when Logan was three months old, that he needed to look like a husband and a father. He left the house one morning with sexed up hair and returned three hours later with hair so short it bordered on a skullcap. Honestly, I cried. The loss was too much for me to bear. He has always surprised me with something, but seeing all of his hair gone was a shock, not a surprise. However, he had been kind enough to bring it home to me in a baggy.

Ever since I turned forty-two, our sex life has spiraled out of control. I
’ve officially turned into a sexual deviant. I just can’t get enough. If I had my way, I would chain Latch to our bed and have my way with him every hour. The sad thing is that he would let me. I had exhausted him completely the night before, hence him sleeping until noon. Lying on his stomach, I can see all the muscle definition on his back. The tattoos on both arms still make him look sexy and dangerous. He still makes my body clench with desire.

One eye opens half
way. A smile curves his lips. He flips over and lets the sheet fall past his thighs.

“Like what you see?” he asks with a voice still thick from sleep.

“Always,” I whisper, licking my lips as I notice his cock.

“Come here,
leannán
.”

He looks enticing. And just like that, I
’m wet. I pick up one of the bed pillows and throw it at him.

“Latch,” I hiss. “We can
’t do
that
right now. Everyone is waiting for you. They already started eating brunch. Your son is driving me crazy. He has been impatiently waiting to give his daddy his birthday gift since nine o’clock.”

Latch gr
oans. “Aww . . . hell! I’m thirty . . . I’m old.”

I smack him with the pillow again, arching my brow.

“Cover up your body parts so I can let Logan in.” I chuckle at his chagrin for the lost moment.

Latch reluctantly pulls up the sheet and props his pillow behind his head. I open the door and Logan comes flying in like a bullet.

“Happy birthday, Daddy!” he yells, jumping on Latch’s stomach, getting dangerously close to his pride and joy. I snicker.

“And what is this?” Latch asks, all excited as Logan hands him a small package. Latch shakes it several times, then puts it to his ear and shakes it again.

“Daddy, just open it,” Logan demands impatiently.

Latch pretends to tear off the gift-wrap frantically. It
’s a beaded bracelet with the word “Daddy” spelled out on it.

“I love it, son. Best gift ever.”

Logan smiles as he watches his father put the bracelet on. He has his father’s eyes and hair color. I can hardly wait until he’s a teenager and I have to peel girls off him like flies on flypaper.

“Okay, Logan, let Daddy get ready now. Why don
’t you go downstairs and see Grandma?” Logan looks excited as he jumps off the bed, clambering down the stairs.

“I
’m jumping in the shower,” Latch says, throwing the sheet back while yawning. “Care to join me?” He asks, wooing me with his glittering eyes.

“As tempting as that sounds, and it is extremely tempting, we have family and friends downstairs waiting for you, birthday boy,” I reply, snapping him in the ass with a towel.

“Ow, woman,” he bellows as he steps into the shower.

As I make up the bed quickly, I hear Latch singing in the shower. I truly love my life—our life—and living in Scotland is a dream come true. Latch had brought me here for our honeymoon when Logan was six months old. I fell in love with his birthplace so much that we decided to live here permanently. Latch still owns McKay Enterprises. He still does most of the graphic design for the games, but he hardly ever goes back to the States. He has taken on partners in the company and they take care of the US business. My parents were very unhappy about us moving out of the country, especially because they wouldn
’t see their one and only grandchild on a regular basis, but Latch had set it up so his private jet service can fly them back and forth whenever they want.

Latch
’s mother finally came around, especially after Logan was born. Those two are as thick as thieves, and we can hardly pry them apart when she visits. As for Weezie, as much as I love her, I give her crap about Keenan whenever they visit. They finally became an actual couple two years ago. I always ask her about the second date rule and I always get the same answer, “Keenan was a one-night stand who never went home.” She can still make me laugh and I will always love her to pieces.

Latch had asked me to marry him right after I
’d given birth. I mean immediately after. I wasn’t sure if he was in a state of shock after witnessing a live birth or if he really meant it. As I watched him take off the hospital gown, he had pulled his t-shirt off with it, leaving him gloriously shirtless. Below his belly button, he had tattooed the inscription “
You are
my other half
” in Gaelic. I accepted right then.

All of the trials and tribulations that I had gone through in my life had led me down this path, bringing me to this point in my life: married to the man I love, mother to a child I thought I
’d never have, and having a wonderful family and great friends. I have always wanted to write, so maybe I’ll pen the next great novel, a story that celebrates rebirth—a tale of revival.

The End

I began writing music and poetry at an early age. My love of music became my sole focus and I spent quite a few years as the lead singer for many local rock bands. In high school, I was fascinated with the macabre and started writing science fiction and horror stories so dark they earned me the nickname "Gory Cory."

After years of writing dark tales, I never thought in a million years my first two finished manuscripts would be Adult Romance.

You can find me:

Email: [email protected]

Facebook: Author Cory Cyr

Twitter:@coryauthor

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