Saint (Hot Shots 4)

“Shit, yeah, it is.” The voice behind me nearly scares the pee out of me. I turn around, hand raised to my chest, trying to still my rapidly beating heart. Holy Mother of Mary, the man before me is built, and I don’t mean like I-forgot-leg-day built. No, Saint Hunt is every bit of tall, dark, and handsome mixed in with a bit of dangerous. Dark hair on top, cut short on the sides, a peek of red tint throughout, giving it a caramel color when the sun hits it. The close-cropped beard he’s sporting definitely gives me all kinds of ideas on how that would feel against my lips, neck, and even between my legs. Well, let’s just say the ideas that are being sparked are definitely of the naughty variety. He has a body that makes me want to climb him like a tree, and we haven’t even officially met yet.

“I’m Emerson Watson. It’s good to finally put the name with a face.” I hold my hand out, offering to shake his when Saint does the complete opposite.

“Saint Hunt.” His hand is in mine, but he brings me in closer, kissing the back of my hand, giving me a smirk, one that is absolutely panty melting. I can attest to that because mine are literally evaporating as we say hello.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I respond. I’m sure my face is red like a tomato.

“Oh, the pleasure is definitely all mine.” Dark eyes, almost obsidian in color, capture my gaze.

“Um, okay. Shall we go see the place? As you know, this house was just recently listed, so I’ll be seeing it for the first time as you are. All of the amenities you asked for are included and have recently passed inspection. You saw the two-car garage and the landscaping. Where do you want to start?” I ask, but I swear I can hear him mumble something under his breath about any available surface.

“Let’s go out back.” Saint lets my hand go, although he seems reluctant. I turn around, leading the way. My legs quiver with the way this man I’ve only just met has the power to make my insides turn to Jell-O.

“Alright,” I reply. That’s when I not only feel it but sense it too. The smell of Saint—cinnamon with a dash of cardamom—and the way his hand moves to my lower back, it feels like it was meant to be there. I’ve never been a believer in fate or happily ever afters. Those only happen in romance novels and movies. At least for me. I mean, I’m twenty-five and still single like a Pringle. Yeah, that’s what you hear when your niece and nephew are in their early tweens. My older brother had children right out of the gate. It’s worked out nicely for him and Misty. They were high school sweethearts and the whole shebang. That just hasn’t happened to me.

Saint seems like the quiet type, which has me scrambling to figure out what to say. The house is gorgeous. I’m taking it all in while trying to deal with the fact that the heat coming from the palm of his hand is searing my skin even with the layer of clothes between us.

“Yeah, this place will definitely do. A few patio chairs, a cooler full of beer, and a breeze coming off the water. I’m not sure I need to see anything else. I’m ready to put an offer in.” He leaves my side, opening the sliding glass doors that open up to the backyard. This house is phenomenal in the way it’s set up to have the outside being opened up into the inside of the house. The accordion-style doors open, giving way to unobstructive views of the waterway with nothing but grass, water, and trees in the distance.

“Are you sure? You haven’t even seen the rest yet,” I offer.

“Yep, already got it in my head that it’s mine. I just need you to deal with the paperwork. Tell the buyers full asking price with a thirty-day move-in date. If they can’t do it, we walk.” Saint walks out onto the back porch. I guess it’s time for me to get my shit together instead of following after a man who somehow seems to set my insides to a full-blown simmer, hovering above the edge with just a lingering touch.

Three

Saint

If I didn’t leave the drop-me-to-my-knees Emerson Watson, I would have done something embarrassing, and even though I just said I was ready to settle down, it didn’t mean I thought finding the right woman would happen right away, but apparently, the woman with light brown hair with gold woven through it, pretty blue eyes, and a smile that knocks your world off its axis will change your whole fucking perspective. That’s where my thoughts take me—on my knees, sliding that tight-as-sin skirt up her shapely legs and getting a taste of the Promised Land.