Page 5 of Saint

“I don’t know what to think about you anymore,” she cried. “You like me, you hate me…”

“I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you. Ever. I’ve liked you from the moment you arrived as a young teenager. I just couldn’t seem to keep up with you growing into a woman.”

“Well, I did. It couldn’t be helped,” she said, raising her free hand and slapping it to her thigh. “I can’t keep wasting my time with you, Saint. I can’t. I see you, and my heart breaks more and more every damn day. I’ve asked Montana for a recommendation. I’m going to leave and work for the DOD.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, pulling her closer to him.

“Yes. I can’t do this any longer. You’re killing me, and I can’t take more rejection, Saint. My parents tossed me aside, apparently, for an undisclosed amount of money. Friends tossed me aside because they thought I was strange. But you? You tossing me aside is not something I can handle.”

“Listen to me,” he said, pulling her toward the bench. He straddled the stone bench, forcing her to turn and face him. “I’m an idiot, asshole, and jerk.”

“Yep.”

“Okay,” he grinned. “But I’m scared, Marilisa. You are younger than me, but I’m realizing that you’re not too young for me. I was terrified when I knew that you had gone to the animal sanctuary. My heart was pounding so fast I couldn’t catch my breath. I never get that way. Never.”

“You don’t have to say that,” she said, wiping her tears from her cheeks. He reached up and, with the rough pad of his thumb, brushed a tear away.

“I’m saying it because I mean it. I don’t want to rush something so important. I come anywhere near you, and I struggle to breathe, I struggle to maintain common sense. I can’t think. I can’t eat. That kiss the night on your porch fucking threw me for a loop. I’ve never been kissed like that, Marilisa, and for a man my age, I shouldn’t be saying that.”

She looked at him with a frown and rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious. Never. I don’t want to know how you learned to kiss a man like that,” he scowled. “But I’d seriously like to be kissed like that again.”

“I can’t do this and let you break my heart again, Saint. My brain is big enough to fix just about everything, but it can’t fix my broken heart.”

He was such an ass. He was chastising himself for hurting her the way he had and praying to God that she would forgive him. He didn’t deserve another chance, but he was sure as hell hoping she’d give him one.

“I want to try. You and me. Let’s take the time to get used to one another. I want to know all about you. Your favorite foods, favorite color, favorite movie and music. And I’ll tell you mine. Just don’t leave.”

“I already know those things about you,” she said quietly. “You like navy blue. Your favorite foods are George’s fried chicken, Mama Irene’s gumbo, and your mother’s macaroni and cheese. You have two favorite movies.Apocalypse NowandThe Godfather, the original. And when it comes to music you like anything except classical.”

He stared at her, wondering how she knew all that, how she had remembered all of that. He never told her those things. She’d observed him and tucked away all the things that were his favorites so she wouldn’t forget. She’d done that. For him.

She stood and pulled her hand from his.

“If you want to know those things about me, Saint, make the effort.” She walked away from him, winding through the maze and making her way back toward the others.

It was hours later that Saint realized he was still sitting on that damn bench, thinking about how badly he’d screwed things up between them. Now, he was faced with something he’d never had to do before.

Pursue the woman.

CHAPTER FOUR

“Did you speak to her?” asked Alice, looking up at her son.

“I tried,” he frowned.

“Patrick, you have to do more than try. Marilisa is a beautiful, intelligent, inspiring young woman. I would be proud for her to become part of our family. Whatever your issues are with the age gap, you need to get over them.” She peered over his shoulder and made a strange face. “You also might want to prepare yourself.”

He looked at his mother with a questioning gaze and turned to see Trevor Banks walking toward him.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered. Trevor was more than twice his age, but he was still a big, bad-ass SEAL and wasn’t afraid to show you just how fucking terrifying he could be when protecting those he loved.

“Walk with me,” he said as he passed him. It wasn’t a question. It was an order.

“Trevor, I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head.

“Don’t. Don’t tell me you’re sorry. I have watched my daughter, a daughter that neither I nor my wife ever thought we would be lucky enough to have, cry herself to sleep more times than I care to count. Because of you,” he said.

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