Page 16 of The Cottage on Pelican Bay

“So, what happened?”

“Mia threw a tantrum. Literally. She accused me of being selfish by wanting to mess up a good thing. She told me that she still wasn’t ready for marriage and doubted that she would be anytime soon. Nor was she ready to have children and wasn’t sure if she ever would be. In other words, she didn’t want a husband, children or wedding vows. She wanted us to continue as we were.”

“Living together in an exclusive relationship?”

“Yes.” Saint paused a moment and then said, “There was no way that I could do that. I wanted more. Namely, a committed future with her that involved marriage. After she turned down my second proposal, I knew there would never be a time I’d do a third and figured it was time to cut my losses and move on.”

She remained silent; however, he knew there was another question coming and had a feeling what it would be. “Are you hoping that the two of you will get back together one day?” she asked.

“No.” If she thought his response had been quick it was because he felt strongly about it. “Mia has moved on with her life and so have I. Soon after she turned down my proposal, she took a job in Florida. It’s been three years, and I haven’t heard from her and doubt that I ever will. We’ve both moved on.”

There was no need to tell her that although he hadn’t heard from her, his mother had. She had been close to his parents and still called them on occasion to see how they were doing. Likewise, he’d done the same for her parents. At least he had in the beginning. He stopped calling them when he discovered the couple was holding on to hope that he and Mia would get back together.

Saint had been disappointed when both sets of parents thought he should have put his foot down with Mia. To do what? Force her into marriage? He knew now that he’d done the right thing by breaking things off and not going to Florida with her.

Moving back to Catalina Cove had been the best thing he could have done. Initially, it had been for his parents’ benefit, but now he would be the first to say it had benefited him as well. He loved his job and liked the house he’d purchased. Both kept him busy. Too busy for a serious involvement with a woman.

“So, I guess at one time you had to do your own pathway-forward thing, too,” Zara said, breaking into his thoughts.

“Yes, I did. However, at the time I thought of it as surviving a heartbreak. For me that meant not setting myself up for another. Mia proved that forever, and happy-ever-after, aren’t for everybody. Giving a woman I loved four years of my life, only to have her turn down my marriage proposals, was a kick to my heart that is hard to recover from. I doubt that I ever will.”

He’d never been a man who routinely indulged in casual relationships. Those type of affairs weren’t for him. He figured that he would meet a girl, date her and concentrate solely on her. He never understood why some men felt the need to have a different woman in their bed every night of the week if they could. His mom had been the only girl for his dad and vice versa for his mom. He’d honestly believed it would be the same way for him.

“I’m not into casual relationships.” Had he just said that when the one he’d participated in that night with her had been as casual as any connection could be? “At least typically, I’m not. That night I spent with you was an exception.”

“You do date, though, right?”

“On occasion, yes, although I haven’t done so since returning to Catalina Cove. I’ve been too busy with my new job.” No need for her to know the dates he’d had while living in Seattle had been blind dates his friends had set up.

“I see.”

He doubted she did see. “But that hasn’t stopped my mom from trying to fix me up with every single woman in the cove since I’ve moved back. She wants grandbabies.”

“Your mom is actually trying to hook you up with women?”

“Yes,” he said in an annoyed tone. “However, my mother wants something far more serious than a hookup, trust me. She wants me to meet a woman who, unlike Mia, has marriage on her mind. But a part of her is still hoping that Mia comes to her senses, and we’ll get back together. Although I’ve told Mom that won’t be happening.”

When he saw the bright lights of the French Quarter, he asked, “So where is this place in New Orleans that we’re going to for a night of dancing?”

“You’re a good dancer, Zara.”

She looked across the table at Saint, taking in his kissable lips, chiseled jaw and those penetrating dark eyes that could wet your panties if you stared into them too long.

“And so are you,” she said, being totally honest. When she’d told him of her desire to go dancing, she figured he would just dance to the slow songs with her like Maurice used to do whenever he took her dancing. But not Saint. He had danced with her every single time, even the line dancing. Not only was he a good-looking man but his well-defined masculinity was on full display with that open-button shirt and what she thought of as pulse-tripping jeans. His pectorals and biceps were in fluid motion with his dance moves, and she wasn’t the only woman noticing.

There wasn’t anything about Saint that wouldn’t grab a woman’s attention. She liked the slow dances with him the best. That was when she would breathe in his scent and revel in the hard body pressed against hers. When he tightened his arms around her, a restless throb of desire invaded her senses.

Sharing a car ride with him to New Orleans had been sexual torture at its best. Whenever she’d felt his eyes on her and looked over at him, she would see the dark intensity in their depths. And when he spoke, his deep, husky voice would set off vibrations deep in the core of her body.

“Where did you learn to dance?” she asked after a waitress had brought them each another beer.

He leaned back in his chair and smiled. It was that same sexy smile that had had her stripping off her clothes that night at the hotel faster than he’d stripped off his. That same smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes while tipping up the corners of his mouth.

“I learned to dance in college. I got a football scholarship to Louisiana State University and my defensive line coach had this thing about movement. He figured the best way to increase our speed and agility was through dancing. It was important for us to be quick on our feet. A dance instructor attended our practice sessions at least two to three times a week, and a number of us were even enrolled in ballet.”

“I bet that was fun.”

He barely held back a laugh. “We didn’t think so at first, but we eventually did. During the offseason some of the guys and I would keep up the practice by going dancing a lot.”

---