Page 7 of Saint

“Martha…” She turned to speak to the woman, but she was gone. Shaking her head, she thought she’d give herself a few more minutes.

“I’m not Martha, but can I sit with you?”

CHAPTER FIVE

“Y-yes,” she said, holding back tears. She was so tired of crying. So tired of feeling as though she didn’t matter to this man.

“Marilisa. I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted. I’m sorry for what I said to you, and I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you. The truth is, I’m scared. I’m scared that you believe you’re in love with something I’m not.”

“Saint, I’m in love with you because you’re a good man. Yes, you’re handsome, strong, and brave. I love that about you. But you’re also kind, intelligent, caring, and sweet. I see you in Mama Irene’s library reading all the time. I watch as you play tag with the little kids at the daycare. You hug your mother for no reason at all, and you protect those around you as if your life depended on it.” He grinned at her.

“You joyfully, lovingly use ASL with Keith and the others who need it. And don’t try to deny it. You read a book on weapons engineering just last year.”

Saint blushed a deep crimson color and shook his head. He reached for her hand, linking their fingers. He took a deep breath and nodded.

“Your favorite color is lavender, and it looks beautiful against your skin, hair, and eyes. You love anything with pasta noodles, but you really love Matthew’s roast pig. You have a sweet tooth for pralines. Your favorite movie isLove Actually. All year round,” he grinned. “And when it comes to music, you enjoy anything that you can dance to. I love watching you dance. Not with other men, but I do enjoy watching you dance.”

Marilisa laughed, wiping the happy tears from her eyes.

“Did you ask my dad all that?”

“Nope. Knew it already,” he said, shaking his head. “I was just too scared to voice it to you. I don’t want to rush anything, Marilisa, but just know that I’m not going to be seeing anyone other than you. I want it to be just us. We need to learn about one another.”

“I agree,” she nodded.

“Good. Now, the first thing I want to learn is if you’re able to repeat that kiss from the front porch,” he smirked. She smiled up at him, nodding.

“I think I can do that.”

Saint wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her toward him, flush against his side. She turned slightly, lifting her chin, and he met her lips, tasting her sweetness, her innocence, and her womanhood.

Yes, sir. She was everything he remembered from that night. Perfection in his arms. When she wound her arms around his neck, he pulled her onto his lap, holding her steady so they didn’t fall into the bayou. She leaned back from him, smiling.

“I’d say that was almost as good as the first one,” she grinned.

“Maybe we need more practice,” he said with a serious expression.

“Lots of practice.”

“Lots and lots of practice,” he said, nibbling on her bottom lip. “Honey? Why are you having nightmares?”

She pulled back and stared at him, surprised that he knew about her night terrors.

“My father told you.”

“Trevor was worried for you. He loves you very much.”

“I got so lucky having him and Ashley as my adoptive parents. I don’t even call them adoptive parents any longer. They’re just my parents. This whole place has an amazing capacity for love, but the two of them were denied the ability to have children. I was the lucky one to find them.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“I don’t know, Saint. That’s the honest truth. I wake up feeling horrified, overwhelmed, completely ravaged by something in my memory, and yet I can’t pull it forward. Ashley and Bree have both tried. Calla and I have had many sessions. I don’t know what it is.”

“Is it something about your biological parents?” he frowned.

“I-I’m not sure. I barely remember them. It’s small glimpses of two people that I think are my parents, but I’m not sure.”

“Well, we’ll work on that together. Just so you know, I thanked Griffin for saving your life.”

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