by Gina Watson
“Mommy’s got my brother in there so it has to be really big.” Marcus exaggerated the size with his hands. “When he can walk I want to bring him to see the sharks.”
“I think he’d like that,” Cara said and attempted to stand, but failed. Marcus offered her his hand and she grasped it, pretending it helped but Max gave her a boost from the back. “I wanna take a look at that stingray.” She held her hand out to Marcus and he took it in his.
From the bench Max watched as Marcus pointed out stingrays of various sizes. “And they weigh a thousand pounds and live for thirty years!” Marcus educated Cara.
Marcus yawned and leaned into Cara’s side, hugging her leg. “Are you tired baby?”
“No,” he said and yawned a second time.
Cara leaned down to take his cheeks in her palms. “What do you say we walk back to our room and order hot fudge sundaes and take a television break?”
“And then can we swim?”
“Sure, although I’m afraid if I get into the deep end of the pool I’ll sink like the Titanic.” Cara placed her hand over her belly.
They walked slowly in the stifling southern Louisiana heat. Cara walked in the middle of the group with one hand in Max’s and one held to Marcus. Max watched a pearl of sweat drip from the base of Cara’s neck down into her shirt. What he wouldn’t do to her if they were in private. Yes…she was horny all the time since she’d become pregnant and he thought her additional curves quite beautiful. They couldn’t get enough of each other and he vowed to always keep things that way.
Those thoughts had him growing hard and so he traded them for thoughts of their home. They’d been living on the David estate for nearly a year. Marcus was theirs in name and in heart. He giggled—they hadn’t meant to get pregnant, but even on birth control it had happened. Cara said it was because the little one inside of her was going to be quite demanding.
“What’s so funny?” Cara asked.
He shook his head, “I was just thinking how different my life is now…how different all of our lives are now that we’re a family.”
Marcus popped his head behind Cara’s body so that Max could see him, “I love my new family!”
“I’m glad, buddy.”
“I’ve never had a mommy and a daddy before.”
“And a brother,” Cara added.
“I’m gonna be the big brother.” Marcus jabbed his thumb into his chest.
“That’s right, I’m counting on you to help me keep an eye on Marshall.”
In their hotel room they ordered sundaes and watched The Lego Movie. When Marcus fell asleep between them Max carefully rolled from the mattress. His wife watched as he walked around to her side of the bed. Bending, he placed a kiss to her cheek and slid one arm behind her knees and one behind her back. He lifted her and she winced. “Max”—she swatted his arm—“put me down, you’re going to break your back.”
He feigned discomfort, “Ooh, we’ve got horses that weigh less.” Cara’s pouty lips defeated him, “Baby, you’re light as a feather.”
“One ton of feathers maybe.”
He carried her to the bedroom in the adjoining room, placed her on the bed, and then went to lock the door.
“What are you doing?”
He crawled over her on the bed and began to remove her clothes. “I need to be naked with you.”
She held two fingers strategically on her chin.
He reached one hand up to her face and tried to pull her fingers away, but she wouldn’t let him. “What’s this?”
“I have a pimple.”
“Has it impaired your ability to make love?”
“No, but I don’t want you to see it up close.”
He rolled into a position that allowed him to hover over her chest. His lips nipped at the fingers covering the blemish and he made noshing sounds. She moved her fingers in an attempt to push him away. “Hey, I think it was just a Cheeto because now it’s gone.”
She smiled. “I haven’t had Cheetos.”
“Hmm. Dorito?” It wasn’t gone and she knew it.
She shook her head. “Hey, what if Marcus wakes up and we’re not there?”
He froze and stood to his knees on the bed before he had her skirt off. “Where’s your purse?” She pointed to the chair next to the balcony. As he walked to retrieve her cell phone, he pulled his from the pocket of his shorts and dialed her number. He passed Cara’s phone to her. “Answer it and then place it on mute.” She complied and he tested his theory all the way across the hotel room. “Cara, you can hear me, but I can’t hear you…that’ll come in handy.”
He placed Cara’s connected phone on the table next to where Marcus laid his head. Max smiled; the boy was passed out and had a pencil thin chocolate mustache on his upper lip.
He returned to Cara who’d removed her clothes and slipped under the covers while he’d been gone. “If he makes a move, we’ll hear it.” As he undressed he observed her full toothy grin. “What?”
“I was just thinking how sexy it is being married to a smart and resourceful Headmaster and professor of British literature.”
Max frowned. “Those adjectives are not sexy.”
“They are to me.”
Naked, he crawled under the covers and rested his weight on his side next to her. He kissed her lips and caressed her chest, “Lets see if we can’t come up with some new adjectives.”
Yes, to know her like this was close to perfect, but it was the little imperfections that made this life real and he looked forward to a lifetime of imperfections with his little family.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Gina Watson is author of contemporary series romances. She lives in Texas where she leads a double life: university instructor by day, romance writer by night. She loves to be contacted by readers to discuss all things romance.
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Other books by Gina Watson:
St. Martin Family Saga
Whiskey Cove
(Novellas)
SCORE
SHAMELESS
SHATTER
SUITED
SMOLDER
St. Martin Family Saga
Emergency Responders
(Novels)
SIZZLE
SEIZE
SURGE
David Family Saga
Let the David brothers whisk you away to the bayou country and captivate your senses as they heat up the humid Louisiana nights.
Bayou Rogues
(Novels)
DAMAGED
DECEPTION
DERAILED
DIRTY
DARE (2015)
David Family Saga
These David cousins are more provocative, more rich, and more tormented than their seafood-loving kinfolk.
Bayou Billionaires
(Novellas)
The Haunting of Ashton David
Words and Music by Cameron David
The Teachings of Maximilian David
Gabriel David’s White Horse
Zachary David Productions
The Haunting of Ashton David
David Family Saga: Bayou Billionaires
In one night he lost everything.
She lost the promise of their future.
Ashton David lives a tormented life. The Louisiana plantation that once
belonged to his father and gleamed like diamond now stands in ruin. It’s drafty, tattered, torn, and haunted. Ashton has tried to walk away many times, but something exists that pulls him back.
If she closes her eyes tight, Harmony can remember the Ashton who took her to junior prom. But it’s been over a decade and years of grief have left him unable to tolerate the sight of her. The love they shared crippled by heartbreak and despair.
Everyone in town knows Ashton is unlovable, but Harmony isn’t interested in what they have to say. She’s back, armed and educated, and she’s ready to take on the beast. But even angels become discouraged when left alone to fight demons
***
Words and Music by Cameron David
David Family Saga: Bayou Billionaire
He’s a rock god who leaves many broken hearts in his wake…
…but there’s always one who is unforgettable.
Cameron David is a rising star of indy rock and he’s breaking hearts all over the South. He knows how to drop smooth lines on the stage and in the bedroom. When he’s denied by the one woman he actually has feelings for, even strumming his favorite song can’t lift his mood.
Baton Rouge Thirty Nine news anchor Megan Price has had a couple of one-nighters with lovable crooner Cameron David. However, she’s realized there is no future to be had with the promiscuous drifter and has resolved to leave him behind—far behind—as she accepts a gig at Toronto News Twelve.
Hearts rock and emotions roll in this contemporary novella
Gabriel David’s White Horse Excerpt
Excerpt has not been edited. Content may change upon final publication.
***
Gabriel David’s brush strokes were too heavy against the canvas. Tacky beige, the color of her skin was wrong. The lighting cast shadows that should not be there and the heavy, dark painting was a far cry from the depiction he’d seen that day in the rolling grassland. He wrapped his fingers around the thick handle of the canvas prep brush and pulled it from the water that had been muddied with burnt umber. He slung the residual paint held to the brush by thick boar hair bristles across the canvas. Effectively ruined, the sight before him caused his body to shake and hum with frustration. In one long sweep, he cleared the easel of the abomination and screamed, “Mirabelle!”
He fucking had her…he had her! Fucking Max had deleted her images. The images she’d modeled for Gabriel. She’d been fucking perfect. He’d wanted her sweet—the way he’d remembered her in the field all those years ago, but he also wanted to burn when he looked at her and for the first time in ten years he’d found some semblance of that memory in Cara Presley. Her creamy skin and curvaceous form had awakened his senses and for a moment he’d been able to sketch. Max didn’t know that Gabe had some rough sketches of his precious Cara. For six years he’d ignored the beauty and as soon as Gabe revealed interest in her the bastard became head over heels in love.
For ten years Gabe had tried to recreate the images that haunted his memory, but they wouldn’t manifest.
Looking around his studio, dozens of paintings mocked and scorned his genius. Canvas after canvas of meadow scenes with green, lush fields and weathered fences with a lone white Arabian horse with a concave profile and high-carried tail glided across the scene, minus one key element…its keeper. Her. Mirabelle. Gabriel was known for his provocative paintings featuring women in various poses of allure and arousal…all in the name of art, of course. His worked had been praised and displayed across the country and even Europe. None of the acclaim affected him however because, without his Mirabelle, he’d been left unsatisfied.
Gabriel threw the easel into the paintings that leaned against the far wall, causing a loud crash of splintered wood that rained down.
“Gabe!”
He turned to find his brother Zach standing in the middle of the loft.
“You mind keeping it down? I’m trying to film downstairs.”
Zach was still filming? “I thought Max told you not to film at his place.”
“I’m still under contract. I can’t just up and walk away in the middle of it. Until I find another studio I’m here.”
Gabriel nodded. He could understand that. Besides, how the hell was anyone supposed to keep up with Max? For years he cared about nothing and then all of a sudden he resigns and unearths his moral compass.
“So are you going to be quiet? We’re about to reshoot.”
“I need to take a break.”
“I don’t give a shit, but I need you to be quiet.”
“All right!” He answered gruffly. With his self-centered attitude and hyperactivity, Zach could irritate him like no one else.
Gabriel followed Zach down the stairs
Zach and Gabe had been using the clubhouse on Max’s estate as their own private studio. With its floor to ceiling windows, the upstairs loft had been the only place Gabe found the light setting he needed to paint, sketch, and sculpt.
In the kitchen, Gabe took an old-fashioned glass from an open shelf and poured from the carafe of high-dollar bourbon on the counter. The open concept of the clubhouse gave him a clear shot for the living room that also served as the set for Zach’s porno. Gabriel took a seat at one of the bar chairs and sipped his whiskey while he watched a woman dressed in nothing but a pair of ridiculously high-heeled platforms give head to her costar.
Gabe pulled his phone from his pocket and texted Max.
Gabe: Where the fuck R U? I need those pics of the girl.
Max: No. I already want to burn your eyes with hot needles for seeing her like that.
Gabe: WTF Max. 6 yrs u ignored her. As soon as I’m interested in her u suddenly can’t live without her?
Max: You’re interested in her?
Gabe: I just need pics of her face to finish the white horse. I’ve been working on this for 10 yrs. How can u take this away from me?
Max: I’m aware of your demons with the white horse but I never anticipated any of this happening. I love her Gabe. Please don’t push this. Have you met her mother? They could be twins.
Gabe: When the hell would I have me her mom?
Max: You may want to photograph her for your project is all.
Gabe: The mom?
Max: As I texted previously, they could be twins.
Gabe: Douche
“As I texted previously”…Gabe mimicked Max’s pompous speech. He didn’t buy it…how could Cara’s looks resemble her mothers? The woman had to be at least twenty years older. The woman in his memories was young—her beauty unparalleled to even that of the most exquisite Arabian horse.
“Cut!”
Gabe looked across the room to Zach who currently scowled at him and pointed to a large microphone. “Do you see this, brother?”
Gabe shrugged. The woman on her back massaged between her legs while the guy stood and pumped his cock to remain hard. Most disturbing however was that he masturbated while his eyes sized up Gabe. The cocky grin on his face made Gabe uncomfortable.
“This mic picks up sound from the direction it’s pointed in. Since it’s facing in your direction, it caught your bitching.”
Gabe shot his whiskey, and then headed toward the door. Before exiting he turned back and offered, “My apologies for interrupting your masterpiece.”
Zach flipped him the finger.
