Page 3 of Saint

“Is that funny?” asked Stephanie.

“Not funny. Just typical for Saint. He’s not a player, Marilisa. Saint is a young man who has never had a steady girlfriend in his life. He’s dated, I think,” said his mother, “but never anyone serious enough to bring them home. At his core, he’s shy and very much a gentleman.”

“Well, not to sound terrible, but I’d really love it if he were a little less gentlemanly. Right now, he doesn’t even notice me.”

“Oh, he notices you. And he will show you when he’s ready, honey. He will.”

That night, she went to The Well with a few others and returned to find Saint on his front porch this time.

His feet were propped up on the banister. He was leaning back in the chair, rocking back and forth, just thinking. No, that wasn’t true. He was stewing. Not thinking. He was pissed off and didn’t know what to do about it.

“If you’d just go out to The Well, you could see her,” said Grip, staring at the young man.

“She’s a kid.”

“She’s not a kid, Saint. Ask any man there who has danced with her,” he smirked. Saint stared at him, shaking his head.

“Don’t say that!”

“Face the facts, kid. She’s a grown woman, and other men are noticing as well. I’d suggest you get on board, or you’re going to be miserable for a very long time.”

Grip drifted away, disappearing into the evening darkness, leaving Saint in the misery of his own thoughts.

He did have feelings for Marilisa, but the idea of her being a little kid coming to Belle Fleur, afraid of everything, so small and frail, he couldn’t get out of his head.

Yes, he understood she was a PhD. Yes, he understood she was an adult. But there was something keeping him from seeing her as a woman.

Suddenly, that all disappeared. He stood on the porch looking down the path as several of their young people were walking toward him, laughing and singing. They’d been to The Well and obviously had a good time.

Marilisa was dressed in a small little cotton skirt and short top that hugged her curves, fitting her full bosoms perfectly. She was wearing cowboy boots, and although she was petite, they made her legs look like they went on forever.

“Hey, Saint,” said Ulani.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Saint,” said Marilisa with a frown. “Goodnight.”

He watched until she’d disappeared into her own cottage. Then he took his seat once again and shook his head.

“Fuck.”

A few days later, he made a critical mistake that might have cost him any chance of having a relationship with Marilisa.

While the seniors were at the animal sanctuary trying to stop terrorists, Marilisa and the other geniuses, along with all the women and children, were at the Sugar Lodge. For days now, they’d been feeling something strange, like someone attempting to make a call to them.

Marilisa couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Placing herself in danger, being held hostage, she’d nearly lost her life. But someone, something, had saved her, pulling her to safety. When Saint arrived, he acted without thinking.

“You’re one of us,” whispered Marilisa to her savior. The group all turned, staring at the girl. “They’re like us. Different but like us.”

“I think we need to meet about this. With Mama and Pops,” said Gaspar. Gabriel walked toward the group and smiled, reaching out to shake their hands.

“They mean no harm, Gaspar. Marilisa is right. They are like our little geniuses only different in some ways. There are a lot of you.”

“There are,” nodded Kane. “This is my wife, Aislinn. That’s Flip and his wife, Nat. Dr. Adam Thorn and his wife, Fiona.”

“Him,” said Marilisa, pointing to a man walking toward her. The man smiled at her, nodding. “He was the one sending the message. How?”

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