Page 18 of Saint
Saint
I’d heard about it.
Seen it.
Observed it.
But never.
Fucking never has that ever happened to me.
Love at first fucking sight.
It took everything I had in me not to climb into her little car and tell her where to go.
Favorably to the farthest corner of the world, where no one could disturb us, and make a family with her.
Normally, the way she had been when I had introduced myself would have put me off.
Well... that was a lie.
She was cute as a fucking button, and that little girl of hers... something told me that I wouldn’t mind how they treated me, as long as they claimed me as theirs.
But back to what I was saying.
Sure, she had seemed cold, disinterested, but I also knew that she was doing that to keep her little girl safe.
And a parent who didn’t want to keep their child safe wasn’t worthy of still having any air in their lungs... their body, for that matter, either.
Did I want to look over my shoulder and get another glimpse of the woman with blonde hair that was piled on top of her head, no makeup, showcasing all that natural fucking beauty?
Yes, I sure as fuck did.
But the main reason why I didn’t?
Ever tried to drive a motorcycle with a hard-on?
Fucking torture.
And I knew it would be just that, fucking torture, because at the sight of her in Sallie’s... well, I had been sporting a semi.
Oh, and the reason it had gone rock hard... I had seen her eyes.
Eyes that were the color of a darkened road, alone at night, the headlight from my bike shining just right.
Fucking. Kryptonite.
I made a promise that the next time I was in Wilson’s, I would sit in her section.
And I was going to do everything in my power to get her number.
She didn’t have a ring on her left hand... and if the feeling I had about her was true, that she was my one... well... I didn’t give two fucks if there had been a ring on her finger.
A man isn’t a man at all if he doesn’t go after what he wants.
But it’s how he takes care of that that shows the true colors of a man.
And I knew how to take care of what was mine.
