Free Reviving Haven by Cory Cyr Page B

kind of off—call it my sixth sense.” She spears a piece of chicken with her fork and pops it into her mouth.
    “You’re seeing dead people now?” I ask jokingly while looking at her. “Nothing’s wrong, I’m just tired. And what do you mean ‘off’?” I question.
    I know exactly what she means because I have been feeling it too. I should just tell her, but I’m somewhat embarrassed. What had I been thinking, letting a strange man go down there ? Now, she would be actually thrilled for me, until she found out it was Latch McKay, young genius of computer games and womanizing manwhore of Google fame. That would have Weezie salivating. Knowing her and the circle she works in, she already knows all about Latch McKay. She reads that grocery store trash and looks at all that internet gossip. And judging from what was posted on the internet, that man has done some serious partying and conquesting— God, is that even a word? Weezie would have a field day if she knew Latch McKay was the one who ravished me. Oh God— I need to stop reading romance novels. Ravish? Where did that come from? Ugh!
    I had made it clear to Latch at the book shoot that seeing him was out of the question, not to mention I was still pretty pissed about the whole purse thing. Even though I know Latch McKay is a bad idea, in my mind, I’m fantasizing on coming up with several different scenarios where I can be with him sexually under the radar as friends with benefits. Why am I even entertaining these thoughts? I suppose this is more of a daydream or wish than something that might actually happen. A girl can dream, can’t she? He’s twenty-five. I’m thirty-seven, on the cusp of forty. Judging from what I had read on the internet, Latch McKay certainly isn’t the relationship type, and that could work in my favor. He obviously is interested since he went through so much trouble just to get me in a room with him. I did say no to him, but it’s probably a word he’s not used to hearing . . . from women, at least.
    I still can’t fathom the reason why this man wants me. Why didn’t he just come into the bookstore? Wait . . . that would have been humiliating as hell, him showing up at my business. My customers and Denise know me to be proper, poised, educated, quiet and reserved. That wasn’t me the other night, drinking and spreading my legs for a complete stranger.
    My body feels warm. No matter how ashamed I feel about being with Latch, the fact is it was simply the greatest night of my life. He had released something in me I had never known existed. I liked the way it felt. No matter what my brain is telling me right now, I’m attracted to Latch McKay. But no matter what my body is dictating, logic has to be followed here. He is too young, a huge womanizer, and he obviously has too much time on his hands. His life appears to be very public. It would be hard to have a secret fling or sneak around. I mean, would I end up on Google?
    I push my plate away, suddenly losing my appetite. I may be older, but am I desperate too? The truth is there are men who come into the bookstore and show interest in me. Having nice legs and big breasts that are actually real, regardless of age, goes a long way, but that will never be enough. I’m too inhibited, too inexperienced, and too broken to fathom having any kind of liaison with anyone. Jared’s words still hold me captive.
    Even at twenty-five, Latch is years ahead of me sexually. I wonder if he knew that he gave me my first true orgasm. I rub my forehead, closing my eyes. If only he were older. But if he were my age, then he’d want a younger woman. That’s the way it works. I’ll most likely end up with someone who is eighty. Crap! My eyes snap open. Weezie is watching me with a very confused look on her face.
    “Okay, Haven, what the hell is going on? You’ve been acting, well . . . stranger than usual the last three days. I’ve known you forever and I can tell when you’re not right.