back to Colorado after her breakup with Jared, that was the worst. I knew it was in her best interests, so I supported it. Now I had to do it again. Only this time, it would be permanent. She could never come back.
She had no intentions of revealing the baby to Latch. With him out of the picture as the father, I knew she had to go. He had the means to make her life miserable, and he’d put her through enough. I knew Keenan had given him an ultimatum along with a major beating. Gotta love those British knights in shining armor. It would be easier to keep Haven’s secret if she left. I’d spoken to Keenan several times on the phone and told him our future dating ( ugh! ) would have to be put on pause so I could spend time with her. He understood since no one knew better what she’d endured.
We left two weeks later. I drove her back home, hung out, then flew back. I had houses that needed showing and others ready to put up for sale. I was sad though, lonely. We’d been apart before, but I knew this time was different. I planned to fly out when the baby was due, then every other month to visit. I hated not having my bestie here. Our home was an echoing cavern without her.
I did spend time with Keenan. And I did allow him to take me to several events as his date. The older woman. Our affair was now being compared to Latch and Haven’s. The difference was we weren’t having an affair; we were building a friendship.
I liked him. I’d never had a male friend before. He was clever, overdramatic, and indulged in excessively drinking tea. He was British. What could I say?
During the next month, he went to New York several times to do promotional work for Blood Vestige . I found out he was no longer doing runway shows. Evidently, because he was about to turn thirty, he was no longer in high demand. The newer models were at least ten to fifteen years younger. It didn’t appear to bother him. He still did dozens of print ads, and he was the entity of Jake Coy. As long as Latch kept creating newer versions of Blood Vestige , Jake would live forever. The royalties from Blood Vestige alone made Keenan Stone a multimillionaire. Money didn’t matter to me, probably because I was already wealthy, and it appeared irrelevant to him.
The paparazzi drove me crazy. Fucking pissed me off. Every time Blood Vestige was mentioned, so were Keenan and me. We were now a package item. Those asshats even came up with a name for us: Kiwi. Men with cameras lurked outside my home and work, making it extremely hard to do my job. Many of my clients valued their privacy, so being stalked daily by the paps sucked. There were times I thought I should just retire, because working—it was something I did for fun. If I were honest, I did it to pass the time. Haven had moved away, and Keenan was traveling. Yeah, after a few months, he was growing on me like a rash.
Haven was due any day now, so I decided to go spend time with her. I hadn’t heard from her in a while, so I wanted to let her know I was coming. But I never got the chance because of the Skype call. I mean, seriously. I thought I was hallucinating. There was Latch McKay sitting next to her, looking deliciously perfect. There was something in his face I’d never seen before. A clarity. He was clean and sober, and he loved my girl. Haven rambled on about how he just showed up, not knowing she was pregnant. Then Latch spoke about rehab and writing his journals. She had really moved on. He was with her now. He would be there to support her at the birth. And he should. He was the father.
“Oh, Weezie, how are you and Keenan doing?” Haven asked as Latch smirked next to her.
“How? What? Umm…”
“You do know we get the rag mags even in this small town. What are the paps calling you two now? Oh yeah, Kiwi?” Latch said, laughing.
“Well, don’t believe everything you read. It’s not what you think. And by the way, Latch, your bro sucks, and not in a puff chore way. It’s like
She had no intentions of revealing the baby to Latch. With him out of the picture as the father, I knew she had to go. He had the means to make her life miserable, and he’d put her through enough. I knew Keenan had given him an ultimatum along with a major beating. Gotta love those British knights in shining armor. It would be easier to keep Haven’s secret if she left. I’d spoken to Keenan several times on the phone and told him our future dating ( ugh! ) would have to be put on pause so I could spend time with her. He understood since no one knew better what she’d endured.
We left two weeks later. I drove her back home, hung out, then flew back. I had houses that needed showing and others ready to put up for sale. I was sad though, lonely. We’d been apart before, but I knew this time was different. I planned to fly out when the baby was due, then every other month to visit. I hated not having my bestie here. Our home was an echoing cavern without her.
I did spend time with Keenan. And I did allow him to take me to several events as his date. The older woman. Our affair was now being compared to Latch and Haven’s. The difference was we weren’t having an affair; we were building a friendship.
I liked him. I’d never had a male friend before. He was clever, overdramatic, and indulged in excessively drinking tea. He was British. What could I say?
During the next month, he went to New York several times to do promotional work for Blood Vestige . I found out he was no longer doing runway shows. Evidently, because he was about to turn thirty, he was no longer in high demand. The newer models were at least ten to fifteen years younger. It didn’t appear to bother him. He still did dozens of print ads, and he was the entity of Jake Coy. As long as Latch kept creating newer versions of Blood Vestige , Jake would live forever. The royalties from Blood Vestige alone made Keenan Stone a multimillionaire. Money didn’t matter to me, probably because I was already wealthy, and it appeared irrelevant to him.
The paparazzi drove me crazy. Fucking pissed me off. Every time Blood Vestige was mentioned, so were Keenan and me. We were now a package item. Those asshats even came up with a name for us: Kiwi. Men with cameras lurked outside my home and work, making it extremely hard to do my job. Many of my clients valued their privacy, so being stalked daily by the paps sucked. There were times I thought I should just retire, because working—it was something I did for fun. If I were honest, I did it to pass the time. Haven had moved away, and Keenan was traveling. Yeah, after a few months, he was growing on me like a rash.
Haven was due any day now, so I decided to go spend time with her. I hadn’t heard from her in a while, so I wanted to let her know I was coming. But I never got the chance because of the Skype call. I mean, seriously. I thought I was hallucinating. There was Latch McKay sitting next to her, looking deliciously perfect. There was something in his face I’d never seen before. A clarity. He was clean and sober, and he loved my girl. Haven rambled on about how he just showed up, not knowing she was pregnant. Then Latch spoke about rehab and writing his journals. She had really moved on. He was with her now. He would be there to support her at the birth. And he should. He was the father.
“Oh, Weezie, how are you and Keenan doing?” Haven asked as Latch smirked next to her.
“How? What? Umm…”
“You do know we get the rag mags even in this small town. What are the paps calling you two now? Oh yeah, Kiwi?” Latch said, laughing.
“Well, don’t believe everything you read. It’s not what you think. And by the way, Latch, your bro sucks, and not in a puff chore way. It’s like
Similar Books
