That Kind of Love - The Legacy Saga Book 2 Short Story

That Kind -

 Chapter 3

Two weeks later

Carrying a shopping bag in one hand and my cane in the other, I relish the warm breeze against my face as I cut through the Main Street plaza and head home. The area is usually busy on Saturday afternoons and today is no exception. My ears pick up several different languages as tourists walk the plaza and the grounds of the Salt Lake Temple, snapping pictures and talking with young women serving as their guides. I've always loved this area of downtown.

Just as I'm exiting the plaza, someone rushes by me, knocking me down. As my knees hit the pavement, my cane goes one way and my bag the other.

“Sorry!” a teenage voice calls from a distance, which tells me he was either on skates or a skateboard. Both are against the rules and not allowed to be used on the plaza grounds. Ignoring the pain of my scraped knees on the pavement, I send up a silent prayer for help and begin to feel around for my cane. A second later, a gentle hand touches mine.

“Let me help you.” Giving the owner of the heavily-accented voice my hand, he helps me to my feet. “I'll get your things.” He starts to pull his hand from mine and my grip tightens. My pacing and sense of direction are off, leaving me totally disoriented. “It's all right,” the deep voice says kindly. “Just stay still. I'm right here, okay?”

“Okay,” I manage to answer, slightly upset by the whole ordeal. I've never had to depend on anyone for anything, and here I am, unable to shift back into comfort mode.

“Here is your cane,” he says. “Now just tell me where you need to go and I'll carry your bag and walk with you.”

“You don't need to do that.” The protest comes out stronger than I intended. “I mean, thank you for your help, but if you can just point me in the right direction, I will be fine. You don't need to help me further.”

“I know, but I want to. All right?” When I say nothing, he adds, “And since you were most likely raised to never talk to strangers, especially some scruffy Italian guy who has only been in the country for a couple of weeks and wants to walk a beautiful woman home, just so he can spend a few more minutes with her and maybe learn her name, you are probably cautious. But then again, if she asks him his name and gives him hers, they won't be total strangers any longer.”

I try to hold it back, but a wide smile quickly breaks across my face. “I think that is about the smoothest line I have ever heard.”

“Really? Oh, good. I practiced it for all of five seconds and I hoped it would go over well.”

“Wow, only five seconds, huh? I would never have guessed,” I tease, the warmth in his voice putting me even more at ease.

“Thank you for the compliment. But the question is, did it go over well?”

“It did,” I answer with a laugh.

“Oh, wonderful!” he says and I laugh at his exaggerated sigh of relief. “Now, if you will give me your hand and navigate, I will get you where you need to go. But first I must introduce myself. My name is Adagio St. John.”

“Please to meet you, Mr. St. John.”

“And?”

“And what?” I tease.

“You are . . .?”

“Oh, Evangeline.”

“I am please to meet you, Evangeline.” The way he says my name . . . I've never heard it like that. His voice is like a caress. “Are you ready?”

I can't believe I'm about to do this! Lifting my face to him, I put out my hand. As he weaves his long fingers through mine, I marvel that it should feel so right. “I've never done anything like this in my life. I mean, you are a complete stranger.”

“Not anymore,” he says warmly.

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“My pleasure.”