The Saint

by Amelia Shea

  “Look.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. It was a cross between treading lightly with a sensitive subject to fed up. “I know Bailey is special to you, and I know our girl is the most important thing in your life. Balancing all of it isn’t easy, I get it. Trust me, with Denny, I was forever wondering if I was giving more to one than the other. So, I get it, Saint.” She paused and narrowed her gaze. “Cia doesn’t.” Her lips strained down. “If you wanna wait or she does on meeting Cia, fine. Then you wait. But you can’t keep telling Cia one thing and then letting her down. She wants to meet Bailey so bad it’s ridiculous, and she keeps getting disappointed. It’s not fair to her.”

  “You don’t think I know that?” Saint heard the anger rise in his tone. The last thing he wanted was his daughter upset.

  Tara held up her hand.

  “I’m not trying to start something here. I’m just saying you can’t dangle something Cia wants, in her face, and then rip it away without hurting her. And her mind is going to self-blame, Saint.” She raised her brows. “She asked if I thought maybe Bailey didn’t like kids, and that’s why she didn’t want to meet her.”

  Goddammit!

  “Fuck.” Saint dragged his hand over the top of his head. “It’s not that.”

  “It’s what your daughter thinks. So, help me help you with this, okay? Why does she keep backing out?”

  It was not his story to tell, and he certainly didn’t want his ex privy to what Bailey had confided in him. But this was taking its toll on Cia, and he couldn’t have that.

  “She’s scared to meet her.”

  Tara laughed, which pissed him off. He scowled.

  “Saint, c’mon, scared of Cia? Our girl is the sweetest thing on the planet to begin with. Ya add her excitement of meeting Bailey? What does she have to be scared of?”

  Saint licked his lips. It felt like a betrayal to Bailey to share it with Tara. His only other option was leaving his girl to think she was to blame for Bailey not coming over. He thought he had been convincing when he told her something came up. Obviously, he was wrong. Cia was a smart kid, and her mind went in the opposite direction.

  “This stays between us. Need your word.”

  She furrowed her brows. “Of course.”

  Saint nodded and drew in a breath. Then he told her Bailey’s story. He made sure to keep his voice low, so Cia didn’t walk in unexpectedly and catch any of it. He told her about Bailey and her ex and relayed the story Bailey had told him. He added his take, which Bailey never came forth in saying. By alienating her from others, he was abusing her. Her ex may not have hit her, but shoving with aggression was very much physical abuse. Tara listened as he knew she would. Tara’s reaction ranged from sympathy to sadness.

  He was silent for a few seconds before he explained the last incident. It ripped him inside, knowing what that bastard had done to her, knowing all the pain she had endured. He kept his control while talking about her being doused in acid while she sat doing her schoolwork, her long and painful recovery, and the toll it had taken on her, not only physically but mentally. When Saint was through, the only reaction he saw from Tara was pure horror. She sat back in her chair and tears welled in the rim of her eyes.

  “God, Saint.” She covered her mouth with her hand as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “She’s afraid of Cia seeing her scars, afraid of having to explain them, and what Cia will think.” Saint drew in a breath. “She covers them, long sleeves.”

  Tara looked down at the table in silence. She was a good woman, second only to Bailey and his own mother. She understood.

  She peeked up through her lashes. “Does she cover the scars in front of you?”

  She didn’t. When they went out of the house, she did. When it was just the two of them, she didn’t. He shook his head, and her lips curled up into a sad smile.

  “Good, it means she trusts you.”

  “Yeah.”

  The creaking ceiling had both of them looking up. Cia was moving around, which meant she’d be down soon.

  “Well, you tell Bailey to take whatever time she needs, okay? I’ll help on my end and reassure Cia that it’s got nothing to do with her. It’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah.” He hoped.

  “Just make sure Bailey knows our kid is gonna love her. All of her.” Tara winked and then wiped her cheeks and stood. She walked to the doorway and shouted up the steps. “Let’s go, C.”

  Saint smiled. Tara may not have been the woman for him, but she was a damn good woman.

  ****

  Bailey was tucked on her couch when the phone rang. She glanced over and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Leave me alone,” she muttered.

  She didn’t reach for the phone. Instead, she dropped her head back onto the cushion, trying to level her breathing. She thought for sure after the first time she answered, he would back off. It happened on Saturday morning. It was an unfamiliar number which usually she ignored. For some reason, she answered.

  It was him.

  She always wondered how she’d feel if she ever saw him again. It was strange. She never considered he’d reach out on the phone. The conversation was one-sided with Adam speaking. She remained silent as he apologized. She couldn’t actually remember exactly what he’d said. She was shell shocked from the call. His voice brought back more than she was prepared for. When he was done speaking, she spoke.

  “Don’t ever call here again.” Then she hung up.

  For the next two days, he had called at least four times. She reached out to her lawyer, who suggested she didn’t answer but adamantly forbid her from blocking his number. Apparently, they needed the proof he was harassing her if they ever needed to go forward.

  The door creaked, and she angled her head over the couch, waiting on him. They had exchanged keys last week. It was an odd feeling. Yet, she just knew she wanted him to have access to her place and her to his. It just felt right.

  “Hi.”

  He appeared in her doorway. God, he’s sexy. She shifted in her seat on the couch as he made his way through the room. He sat next to her, leaning over and giving her a kiss.

  “How was your day?”

  “Good. Did some drawing and next week’s agenda. I had a bunch of permits which were all approved.” She winked. “And I got started on the plans for the park. Just need to take the official vote.”

  “Busy, huh?”

  She nodded and curled into his side when he leaned back on the couch. “How about you?”

  He sighed and covered his mouth as he yawned. “All day at the shop.”

  “On schedule?”

  “Yeah. Forgot how time-consuming the tedious details are.”

  He circled his neck, and she heard the soft crack echo through the room.

  “How was your weekend with Cia?”

  He curled his hands over her hips, dropping his lips to hers for a soft kiss. “Good. Got her next week too, Tara and Denny are doing a weekend away, so I offered to take her. Tara’s gonna drop her off around noon.”

  She drew in a breath. Do it.

  “What are you guys gonna do?”

  “Don’t know yet. Why?”

  She had spent a good part of the weekend wondering what Saint and Cia were doing. After her phone call with Adam, it triggered something in her to fully move forward.

  “Just thought maybe I could come meet her.”

  “Yeah?” He seemed surprised and a bit hesitant. She could understand why. She had backed out enough times. If she was going to do it, she needed to commit,

  “I’m ready. One hundred percent.”

  Saint wrapped his arms around her, pulling her over his body. As she kissed him, another thought from the weekend popped in her head. It had become routine for her to fall asleep to thoughts of her and Saint together when he wasn’t with her. But there was one thing she had to leave to fantasy. Time to change that.

  She slithered down his body, dropping her knees to the floor. It had been on her mind s
ince the first night they’d spent together. His hands slid down her arms, and he eyed her. She reached for the snap in his jeans and lowered his zipper.

  “I want to taste you.”

  His low growl echoed through the room. She tugged on the seam of his jeans, and he lifted allowing her to pull his pants down to his ankles. He was semi-erect and she slid her hands up his thighs, glancing up to see his eyes darkened and focused on her.

  She hadn’t had much experience with oral sex. She licked her lips.

  She moved closer, and her hair draped over his thighs. She noticed the small tremble of his skin. She gripped his cock in her hand. Her thumb grazed over the crown of his cock, and he groaned.

  “Teasing me, sweetheart,” he whispered in a graveled tone.

  “I’ll be honest, Saint. I don’t really know what I’m doing here.”

  The corner of his mouth curled. “Anything you do will be perfect.”

  It was just the vote of confidence she needed. She leaned closer, curving her tongue over the crown of his dick. Her lips covered his cock, and she took him down her throat. He was thicker and longer than the men in her past. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to take all of him. She fisted his length and spread her lips over him, getting the best reaction. His hand curled into her hair, brushing it away from her neck. Her tongue flicked down the root of his length. She started a steady even rhythm that had his breath hitching. Her hands slid up his chest, tracing over his sculpted muscles. Her tongue lashed against his cock and his body tensed.

  She peeked up. His head was pressed against the cushion. His lids were lowered, staring down at her. He was watching her. She kept her gaze locked on him, driving her mouth over his hard erection.

  “Fuck,” he grunted.

  His fingers threaded through her hair, massaging her scalp as his cock hardened between her lips. He was close.

  “Pull back,” he muttered.

  No way. She wasn’t lying when she said she wanted to taste him. She swallowed him down her throat, enjoying his gasping of breath.

  “Bailey.”

  She quickened her speed, digging her fingers into his chest. It was mere seconds before he came. His hips jutted forward, and he swelled in her mouth. Perfect. He slowly relaxed against the couch. The low panting from his breath echoed through her living room as she made her way, crawling up his chest.

  She licked her lips and the corner of his mouth curled.

  “Hades was right,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around her back. “You’re trouble.”

  She dropped her head to his chest, smiling. Her hand reached out, circling the skull tattoo on his arm. It was done in black, and the shading made it stand out. His fingers trailed over her back as they lay in silence.

  “I’ve always wanted a tattoo. Maybe I’ll be one of your first customers here.”

  “Got a month-long waitlist.”

  She propped her head. “Really?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. Booked solid. If you want one, we’ll have Marco do it when he comes in before the grand opening.”

  “Oh well, anyone can do it.” Before she finished her statement, Saint was shaking his head.

  “Marco does it. He’s the best. You get the best working on you.” He eyed her, and his lips curled. “You know what you want?”

  “One of my drawings.” She spread her hand over her left shoulder blade. “Right here.”

  “You gonna show me your drawings?”

  She shrugged, feeling the heat flash over her cheeks. “If ya wanna see them.”

  “I do.”

  She smiled. “Now?”

  He nodded.

  She leaned across his body and opened the top drawer of her coffee table. She had several books of her drawings. She pulled out the top one and slid off of Saint, taking a seat next to him. He adjusted himself, pulling up his pants. It seemed an odd time to pull out her drawings, but Saint seemed interested, He grabbed the book from her hands.

  She’d never been shy about sharing her drawings. As he flipped through the pages, she watched his reaction. She had a gift, she knew it. She could look at anything and draw it. His eyes seemed intent on each page, and he slowly turned the pages.

  “These are amazing, Bailey.”

  She smiled. “You think so?”

  He glanced up with a sharp nod, and then his attention was back to her book. “How long have you been drawing?”

  She shrugged, curling closer to his side. “Since I was a kid. I mean, just for fun. You really think they’re good?”

  He turned and smiled. “Yes, I do. They’re amazing.”

  She blushed and leaned forward, but she felt his stare on her. She flickered through the pages to a hummingbird and a flower. She pointed at the picture.

  “Can Marco tattoo this one on me?”

  When he didn’t respond, she looked up. “You’re very talented, sweetheart.”

  When it came to her drawings, she’d heard it most of her life. From her parents, friends, and teachers. Coming from Saint, it meant more to her.

  “I’ll call Marco tonight, set up the appointment.”

  She ducked her head against his chest and spent the next thirty minutes showing Saint the rest of her books at his request.

  Chapter Sixteen

  She glanced down at the car clock for the fifth time in seven minutes. That was how long she’d been parked in Saint’s driveway with the engine still running. With the phone in her hand, she stared down at the third rewritten text she’d done in the past four minutes. Canceling last minute via text when I’m parked in his driveway? She swiped the hair falling into her eyes and pulled at her scalp. She was angry with herself. It was ridiculous. This had been her decision. Get your ass out of the car.

  She closed her eyes and sighed, fighting against her racing heart. Her nerves caused a swift shake of her fingers, and she dropped her cell in her lap. Her forehead broke out in a beaded sweat. Get out of the car.

  The sharp knock on her window caught her off guard, and she jumped, jerking her head to the left and practically hopping into the passenger side seat.

  She forced a jittery smile and rolled down the window.

  “Hi.”

  Saint smirked and leaned down, resting his elbows on the door. His violet gaze narrowed.

  “Hi.” His tone was amused and playfully mocking. Saint never said “Hi.”

  “You got plans of coming inside, or do you want me to bring Cia out here?”

  She gasped and shifted her gaze to the house then at Saint, then back to the house. She’s here. Oh my God, I’m gonna be sick.

  His hand swept over her cheek.

  “Thought she was coming at one.” She glanced at the clock. How long had she spent sitting there?

  “They came early. Tara wants to meet you, hang for a bit.”

  “Tara, her mom, your ex?” Her skin tingled with heat, but not the good kind, the dreaded vomit-inducing, potentially passing out kind. “S-she wants to meet me? Like now?”

  “Sweetheart, relax.”

  She shook her head. “Is it too late to change my mind?” She gripped the gear shift set to move to reverse. “Let’s do it in a couple weeks or months. How about six months?”

  His chest rumbled, the corners of his mouth curled, and the small lines near his eyes crinkled. Saint smiling was usually enough to ease her. She was too far gone. She couldn’t do this. Before she realized it, his arm stretched in front of her, and he was shutting down her engine and taking her keys with him.

  Oh no.

  He settled back, and the door opened. She remained seated. He wouldn’t possibly drag her out, right?

  Wrong.

  He leaned in, unbuckled her seatbelt, and grabbed her hand, guiding her out of the car. She stood in front of him with the door open, biting her lip. There was no way out unless she explained her anxiety and her nervous energy, which was sure to ruin the meeting. His child, who he adored, her mother who obviously wanted to inspect her—this was all too much.


  “Saint, I-I can’t do this, I really can’t…”

  He yanked her hand, and she fell forward into his chest. Both his hands slid up her arms, grasping her neck and tilting her head to meet his eyes. “Want me to lay it out for ya?”

  She shook her head. “N-no, I think.”

  “No, stop thinking. Sweetheart, my girl has been waiting over a month for this. Been begging me to have you over, hell, two weeks ago, she Googled you to find your address.”

  “What?” Her voice was hushed in shock. Saint’s daughter Googled her?

  He raised his brows and nodded. “She said she was done waiting. And the only reason she was waiting was because I knew this would be a lot for you.” His thumbs caressed under her ears. “Not me. Not Cia. Just you. My kid is a pain in the ass, only so long she’s willing to wait.”

  This was all too much. Cia wanted to meet her? Her heart seized.

  “She’s waiting to meet me?”

  He nodded.

  “And Tara?”

  Saint snorted. His face softened. “Another pain in the ass. Tara hears I got a woman. She wants to meet her.”

  “It makes sense, with me being around her daughter, she’d want to know I’m not some crazy lunatic.”

  Saint burst out laughing. “Sweetheart, that’s got nothing to do with why she wants to meet you. She wants to see the woman who’s got my heart.”

  His sweet words should have eased her anxiety. It didn’t.

  “I’m nervous.”

  “I know.”

  She bit her lip. “What if she hates me?”

  Saint shook his head. “She won’t.”

  “How do ya know, I mean she could.”

  “Bailey, stop.” He caressed his thumbs over her jaw. “Caught her staring out the window, took a few minutes to realize she was watching you in the car. I was trying to give you time because I know you’re nervous. I wanted to give you a minute. But Cia, she’s too eager, she’s been waiting on this. Meeting you.”

  That did something to her, and she melted closer to him.

  “Now, we’ve been out here for five minutes going back and forth, no doubt my girl’s watching. You want her to think you don’t wanna meet her?” He raised his brows, and Bailey’s stomach dropped. She jerked her head to his front window. From the shadow of the porch, she couldn’t tell if anyone was looking out.