Page 23 of Saint
Fuckin’ ever.
But seeing Ophelia’s shoulders loosen slightly and then seeing Soraya’s face peek out and smile a small smile at me, I would do it.
Every single second of every single day.
Ophelia shook her head, “Little Miss Pumpkin’ Head wanted to do something as a thank you for what you did yesterday.”
I looked at the tray I realized she was holding, and then I looked down at Soraya.
I moved slowly until I reached the two of them, and then I lowered myself to the ground and asked, “You made something for me?”
She leaned her head further around Ophelia’s legs, then she looked up at her, then at me, and nodded, “Yes. Monnie always says you should repay kindness with kindness.”
I liked that.
I really fucking liked that.
And that was when a cold wind blew over the lot.
I stood up and said, “It’s cold. Come on inside.”
Ophelia shook her head and looked behind me, “No. It’s okay. We just wanted to give you these.”
I stepped closer to her and said the words that had been on my mind since yesterday.
“Hadn’t stopped thinking about you. Either of you. Really like to spend time with the two of you. Get to know you both better. Nothing inside those walls will harm either of you. It does, I’ll take care of it.”
That was when she seemed to look even deeper into my eyes.
I wasn’t sure what she was lookin’ for, but I hoped like fuck she found it.
And I knew that she had when she nodded, then looked down at Soraya, “Do you want to go inside?”
Soraya nodded, “Monnie, it is cold. And we have Saint with us.”
Apparently, that was all my woman... yeah... I had already dubbed her that title in my head, needed to hear.
Ever since I saw her at the diner a few weeks ago, she has been on my mind.
I’ve never walked up to a woman I was interested in and started a conversation.
Hell, I had never seen one I was remotely interested in until I saw Ophelia and heard her laughing at something old man Woodrow had said.
Yesterday had been perfect, utterly perfect, for me to get my foot in the door and work myself into their lives.
There’s a saying along the bayou in Louisiana.
A Cajun thing, if you will.
And as I walked away from them yesterday, a cold wind blew over my frame, and I could have sworn I heard the words, “You found your 'autre moitié.'”
Which translated to,You found your missing piece.
I stepped to the side, but not before I took the tray of whatever it was out of Ophelia’s hands and gestured toward the door.
Thankfully, the brothers and the women had moved out of the way, and as we passed them, no, I didn’t miss the way either of them side-eyed Merlin as they moved at my side.
And neither did anyone else.
