“Are we really going to continue with the small bird talk rather than address the...rutabaga?” Sienna sighed.
“Ruta...oh.” She was using a code word to prevent Duchess from trilling a new song about kissing. “No. We can talk about the...rutabaga.” That sounded believable. “Sorry. You’re right. Things have been weird and it’s my fault.” Feeling more secure about Dream’s engine performance, he kicked up their speed a bit. “I shouldn’t have ki—er, rutabagaed you the other day.”
“If I remember correctly, I didn’t back away or tell you not to.”
“Still, it wasn’t right. You’re dealing with a lot. The nonwedding wedding. Your father. And you’re still grieving the loss of your grandmother. I shouldn’t have—”
“Shouldn’t have shown me what a real kiss feels like?” She sat on the padded bench and kicked up her feet. Leaning back on her hands, she lifted her face to the sun. “I’m sorry if you regret what happened, but I certainly don’t. If anything, you made me realize exactly what was missing in my relationship with Richard. You’re a very good kisser, Monty.”
He felt the flush rising up his neck. “I’m not entirely sure how to respond to that. What exactly was missing with Richard?” He shifted enough in his chair to look at her. Bad move. The instant his eyes landed on her, the more he realized he didn’t want to talk about kissing anymore.
She shrugged slightly. “Passion. Interest. Emotion. I’ve had a lot of time to think the past few days and I’ve come to the conclusion that not marrying him was the smartest thing I have ever done. I mean, who wants to live without passion?”
“Who indeed,” Monty choked out.
“Therefore, I probably owe you my thanks. For opening my eyes and showing me exactly what I want out of life.”
“And what’s that?”
She met his gaze. “Why don’t you stop the boat and I’ll show you?”
“Stop the boat?” He did a quick scan of their surroundings. Once again he’d been keeping land in sight, but the skies were as clear as the ocean was calm. One of the better days he’d seen in a while.
Sienna walked over to him, a sly smile on her full lips. She brushed her fingers over the back of his hand. “Stop the boat, Monty.”
Entranced, he eased up on the throttle. By the time the boat stopped, Sienna was stepping down the ladder. He looked at Duchess, who was looking at him as if he was a fool for taking too long. Making sure the boat was secure, he followed Sienna down to the deck and found her tugging her T-shirt over her head. The bright green-and-turquoise swimsuit she was wearing glimmered against the sun and all but transformed her into a sailor’s dream.
“What are you—?” Clearly, she created brain fog for him because it took a beat to understand what she was doing. When her shorts hit the deck and she kicked off her shoes, he couldn’t do anything but stand back and watch as she stepped up to the edge of the boat and, after a quick wave and grin at him, dived over the side.
She disappeared into the depths like a mermaid. He moved closer, heart in his throat, until he saw her surface a few feet away from Dream. She slicked back her hair and bobbed to the surface, a contented smile on her face. “It’s glorious in here!” With the calm water and the clear sky, he could hear her without trouble. “I couldn’t stand being cooped up on that boat for another second.”
Monty grinned. He’d never been seduced into stopping his boat before.
She swam effortlessly until she twisted, tucked and dived back under. When she popped up again, she was reaching for the ladder at the side of the boat. “Are you coming in or not?”
“Not sure I can beat the view I have now.”
She gave an approving nod and launched herself into the water once more.
She’d been beautiful, Monty thought, that first moment he’d seen her, tucked into his closet, surrounded by poofs of white fabric. The expertly applied makeup, the neatly arranged hair, her skin glowing around the jeweled necklace she’d worn above the fancy gown. But seeing her now, in the simple, pure image of nature that surrounded her, he could admit he’d never seen a more gorgeous sight in his life. He didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to breathe. He just wanted to stand here, for the rest of his life, and watch her in the water for the ethereal creature she might very well be.
A fantasy. That’s what she’d created for him, making him see things, feel things he didn’t think he ever could. Emotions he couldn’t entirely trust. Falling for a woman like Sienna, who was so deep in flux she’d be lucky to find the horizon, would be an error of gigantic proportions. And yet here he was, wanting nothing more than to join this woman who was struggling to find her place in the world, if only for a few minutes, in the bliss that was his chosen office.
He kicked off his shoes, emptied his pockets and tossed off his shirt. A heartbeat later he stepped to the side of the boat, and before he thought too long or hard about it, dived in with her.
* * *
IF THERE WAS one thing Sienna could identify blindfolded, it was someone who thought entirely too much. It had started the second he’d broken off that delicious kiss they’d shared in the kitchen; a kiss interrupted by a traitorous parrot and probably common sense on Monty’s part.
She wasn’t a fan of common sense. Not currently, anyway, which was why she’d thrown both it and caution out the porthole and jumped into the ocean. Dream had indeed become suffocating, and not just because of their forced chitchat and pleasantness. Monty clearly regretted the kiss. Never had a solitary day passed so excruciatingly slow.
She treaded water as she watched him kick off his shoes and dive into the water. A surge of exhilaration had her hiding her smile beneath the surface. She cut through the lapping waves easily and swam toward him, her eyes drawn up to the pilot cabin, where Duchess was watching them as if she’d just found her favorite TV show.
“We have an audience,” she said once Monty surfaced. Her heart caught and skipped a beat as he smoothed back his wet hair. He reminded her of one of those models in the fragrance ads, where the men launched themselves off cliffs and into the ocean as if chasing after a siren. She hadn’t thought those men were real. Now she knew better.
“We’ve found the one place she can’t or won’t go.” Monty reached out a hand, brushed against her shoulder as if to confirm she was safe and secure. “You do this often?”
“If you mean swimming in the open ocean? Only at the beach at home,” Sienna confessed. “Until I found Dream, I...” She paused, wanting to choose her words carefully. “As much as Nana loved cruising and boats, when she was sick, she couldn’t take the motion. We settled for sitting for hours next to the shoreline of the Seine, eating bread and cheese and all the things she wasn’t supposed to have.” The memory was one that lightened her heart, even as it tipped into sadness. She angled her head. “She would have liked you. A lot. She’d have probably called you a pirate.”
“And fulfilled my childhood dream,” he countered, sounding a bit sad himself. “The pirate and the princess.”
She laughed and turned to dive, only to jump in and yelp.
“What?” Monty grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. It took her a moment to blink the salt water out of her eyes. What she thought was a jumble of seaweed was actually a tangled mess of fishing line and debris clinging to a struggling sea turtle.
“Oh, no.” She pulled free and swam forward. “Monty, we need to help her.” She moved around the creature, had to duck down a bit to see its face. “She’s all tangled.”
The turtle blinked slowly, as if exhausted. Sienna was careful when she touched one of its flippers. The line had tightened so much that it had dug into the turtle’s skin.
“Don’t usually see this breed so far north this time of year.” Monty swam up behind her. “Let’s get her to the boat.” Together they gently maneuvered the sea turtle. “You go first. Easier for me to lift her up.”
/> “I don’t want to hurt her.”
“She’s already hurt. I’ve got her. Don’t worry.”
Sienna pulled herself up the ladder and into the boat, returning immediately to take hold of the beautiful and bigger-than-expected reptile.
“Work it, work it.” Duchess’s commands barely registered as Monty tried to steady the turtle as he climbed up the ladder.
“I’ll get a knife to cut away these lines. See if you can loosen the other stuff,” he said.
Sienna kneeled beside the turtle, which had gone scarily still. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.” She plucked at the kelp and plastic debris until she could see the shell glistening in the sun. “There you are. Aren’t you a beauty.”
The turtle jerked, flippers flapping as if it suddenly realized it wasn’t in the water.
“Monty, she’s getting restless. You’d better hurry!”
“Get those knees up! Work it. Work it!”
“Hush, Duchess,” Sienna snapped.
“Got a few different ones. Here.” Monty dropped down on the other side of the animal. “Cut near the shell if you can.”
“Right.” She shoved her wet hair out of her face, lifted a section of the line and pried it free just enough to slip the sharp blade under it. When she broke through, other sections of the line slackened. “Shouldn’t take too much longer,” she said.
They worked as one, moving quickly to cut the turtle free. “When Charlie and Simon hear about this they’re going to wonder why we didn’t video it.” Monty cut another length free.
“Because we needed all four hands to accomplish this! Ah, there.” She unwound the last bit of line from around the flipper. The turtle waved it around as if testing that it still worked. “Should we put her back right away?”
“I don’t think she’s going to give us a choice,” Monty said. The turtle was already scrambling toward the ledge. “She’s not very old. Doesn’t weigh more than fifty pounds.” He got to his feet and bent over to pick up the turtle.
“I hope she finds her family,” Sienna said softly when he lowered it back into the water. “Can you get your phone?”
“She’s going to be gone in—” But he went. Sienna sat on the edge of the boat, watching the turtle relearn how to move, its one flipper not working quite in tandem with the other yet.
“She still here?”
“Yes.” Sienna stretched out her arm and pointed. “Just there. Oh.”
The turtle stopped and turned, hovered still in the water for a second before paddling over. Tears burned Sienna’s throat as their rescue skimmed by, blinked its dark eyes up at them before diving into the depths and out of sight.
“I’d say that was a thank-you,” Monty said. “And I got it on film.” He touched his hand to Sienna’s shoulder. “You’re pretty good in a crisis.”
“You do what you have to do, especially when someone’s suffering.”
Monty nodded when she looked up at him, then ducked down into the cabin and returned with some towels.
“You know what I would love for dinner?” she asked when he dropped one next to her.
He stopped drying his hair long enough to glare at her. “If you say kale I’m afraid I’m going to have to throw you back into the water.”
“I’ve been waiting for you to cry uncle.” She couldn’t stop the grin from forming. “I would kill for a pizza.”
Instantly, he looked as if he might drop to his knees in gratitude. “Unfortunately, I can’t think of a place that delivers this far.”
“We could stop. How far out are we from someplace?”
“About another hour or so until Santa Barbara. We could stop for the night if I can grab a last-minute slip.”
“Grab one. If that’s okay with you?”
“That is more than okay. And I even know the best pizza place to go to.” He held out his hand and she took it, letting him pull her to her feet. She grasped the towel between them, but could still feel the heat of his body radiating toward her. His thumb brushed against hers for the barest of moments, and for an instant, she thought maybe he’d kiss her again. But he didn’t. Instead, he cleared his throat and stepped away, heading up to the wheelhouse to start up the boat again.
“Squawk! Squeeze your glutes!”
Sienna glared at Duchess, who seemed to take her next snack as a given as she soared through the kitchen. “You have the worst timing on the...hey! What are you doing? Stop that!” Sienna ducked as Duchess chucked a measuring cup from an open drawer at her. “Duchess, those aren’t toys.” She picked up the cup, then almost caught another in midflight. Apparently entertained, Duchess stuck her beak into the junk drawer next to the sink and dug in.
She stopped only long enough to demand “guaca-mooleee” and then resumed her pillaging.
“All right! All right.” Leaving things where they landed, Sienna grabbed the tub of fruit she had in the fridge and fished out some blueberries and strawberries. For kicks, she tossed in a couple of almonds.
“Yum! Kiss. Kiss.” Duchess made a smooching sound and hopped across to the kitchen table to eat.
“Not on your life, Guacamole Breath,” Sienna muttered, picking up the paper clips, rubber bands and pencils Duchess had tossed out of the drawer. “We need to bird-proof the place or find you new toys.” She scribbled a reminder note to herself, then went into her room to change for dinner.
CHAPTER NINE
WHILE SIENNA TIED down the boat, Monty took advantage of cell reception and made a quick call to Frankie. That his sister hadn’t contacted him was a good sign, at least, in regard to Kyle’s status.
“Ahoy, wayward traveler,” Frankie said by way of answering her phone. “Tell me you’re almost back.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” By his calculations, if they kept going at the pace they were, he and Sienna would hit Butterfly Harbor a little ahead of schedule. Not that his sister knew about Sienna. Somehow he’d managed to avoid telling Frankie about that part of his trip.
“Your sister is losing her mind, that’s what’s wrong.”
“Ezzie again?” Monty winced. Frankie’s future mother-in-law must really have been getting on her nerves.
“No. My maid of honor is sick. Brooke’s down with the flu and I’ve discovered I’m less that competent at multitasking where my wedding’s concerned. I might have accidentally ordered the wrong chairs for the reception. It’s still a toss-up between chicken à la king or beef medallions for the meat eaters, and I can’t get anyone at the party-tent company to confirm when they’re delivering and there’s absolutely no one to take over. While I love Kendall to death, she can’t pull these kinds of things together for me. She agreed to lose her camo pants and tank top and wear a bridesmaid dress and that alone was a hard-fought battle. Roman and I have to be at a conference when all the payments, music and menu have to be finalized.”
“And you think I can help?” Monty tried to keep his voice light. Frankie was one of the most composed people he knew; she had to be, given her job as a co-fire chief, but it was clear by her voice that she was feeling out of control. The past few months had definitely given him new insight into his twin.
“No, I don’t want you to choose chicken rather than fish for our reception.” He could just imagine her rolling her eyes. “I need a sounding board. A neutral party. A voice of reason. That’s you.”
Monty had to strain to hear her. “Are you whispering?”
“Of course, I’m whispering.” She sounded almost manic. “Ezzie is in the next room. I’m not quite that desperate. Yet. I need you to come back fast and convince Roman we should elope.”
“I can’t do that,” Monty said.
“Why on earth not? Montague Elliot Bettencourt—”
Uh-oh. She only used his full name when she was seriously ticked off. Or panicked. “I can’t do that because I don’t have a
death wish.”
“Roman won’t care. He just needs to hear it from someone other than me.”
“Roman does care and you know it. He’ll care even more when he realizes it’s too late to get all your deposits back. Not to mention what Ezzie and the Cocoon Club will do to you if you cancel on them. You know those senior citizens are planning a big surprise for you both. You’ll break their hearts if you don’t go through with the wedding in Butterfly Harbor.”
“Aw, man. Okay. Talking helped. There’s a solution. I just have to find it.”
Sienna waved at him from the lower deck, a bright smile on her face. She’d donned one of the nicer pair of shorts and a clingy pink T-shirt. And she’d left her hair loose and tumbling around her shoulders. Exactly how he liked it.
“Monty, are you still there?”
“I’m here.” He leaned his arms on the railing and watched Sienna checking the lines. “Sounds to me like you need a wedding planner.”
“Gee, Captain Obvious, you think? Except we’ve already blown our budget, not to mention the fact that, oh, that’s right, Butterfly Harbor doesn’t have a wedding planner!”
Not yet they didn’t. “What if I can find you one?”
“Are you thinking of a career change?”
“Of course not.” The only thing he knew about weddings, other than signing his name to whatever gift Frankie purchased, was how to abscond with a runaway bride.
A runaway bride with a penchant for event planning...
“Hey, Frankie, can I call you back? I might have an idea.”
“Oh, he has an idea. Awesome. Great. Think away, Boat Boy. Not like I have anywhere else to be.” Over the phone, he heard the distinct blare of a call. “Scratch that. I’ll check in once I’m back from this call.”
And just like that, Frankie was back to being Frankie and hung up on him.
“Hey, everything okay?” Sienna popped up the ladder, expectant eyes shining and happy.
Bride on the Run--A Clean Romance Page 10
