Monty’s voice was raised and she distinctly heard the mention of a bachelor party. Sienna shifted to watch him pace from port to starboard, dragging a hand through his hair before he dropped his head back and stared up at the sky. When he quit the call and ducked inside again, she couldn’t help herself and asked, “When are you getting married?”
“Married?” He looked as if she’d just thrown an anchor into his arms. “Oh, no. It’s not my bachelor party. I’m just in charge of it for my future brother-in-law. My sister, Frankie, is taking the plunge in a couple of weeks.”
Unexpected relief slid through her. “Oh.”
“Roman’s the groom, and his mother, Ezzie, has some ideas as to what I should be planning. I had to tell her I didn’t think Roman would appreciate having his stag arranged by his mother.”
Sienna’s lips twitched. “No.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t think so.” She knew Richard had had a bachelor party last week sometime. Thursday? she thought. She hadn’t really paid much attention. She hadn’t really cared.
“Still, she wasn’t wrong about me needing to get back to Butterfly Harbor. Guess I’m going to put this girl through her paces.” Monty tapped his hand against the bulkhead. “Engine might need some work on the way, but we’ll get there, won’t we, Dream?”
“If she has so many issues, why did you buy her?” The question came out so quickly she didn’t have time to really consider how she’d said it.
If he took offense to her tone, however, he didn’t let on. “Because she’s got an old soul. Boats like this, they’ve got a history, a feel about them. It feels like home. A really dated home,” he added with a laugh. “But she’ll fit perfectly into my fleet. Wind Walkers,” he added at her perplexed expression. “I run a tour-and-diving company out of Butterfly Harbor.”
She’d heard the name before. Where had she...? Sienna frowned, thinking. “Butterfly Harbor. That’s near Monterey, isn’t it? Jason Corwin opened a new restaurant there around the time he got married.” She’d watched the behind-the-scenes TV show featuring Jason’s Christmas wedding almost two years ago.
“That’s my town. Do you know Jason?”
“I met him once. My father flew him and his brother out for one of the firm’s big holiday events, just after they’d hit it big on television.” Her father was always one to try to latch on to the latest celebrity or trend to show his clients how on-top-of-things he was. “It was horrible, what happened to Jason’s brother.” Jason and his brother, David, had been twins like Monty and his sister. But unlike Monty, Jason lost his sibling in a plane crash. “I’m glad to hear Jason’s doing all right.”
“He’s more than all right. He and his wife, Abby, are expecting a baby in about a month. It’s a boy. They’re naming him David, after Jason’s brother.”
“That’s lovely.” She smothered a yawn, probably the result of a massive adrenaline crash.
“You look wiped out,” Monty said. “Why don’t you get some rest? There’s a separate berth right down there.” He pointed at the narrow hall ahead of him. “I’ve already grabbed the one at the back.”
“You wouldn’t mind?” He was racking up serious Sir Galahad points. She hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks. The idea of even a few hours sounded like heaven.
“Not at all. I’ve got stuff to do on the boat before I can leave the marina, and then I’ll hit that gift shop. Oh, and I’ll see if I can get the gossip about your nonwedding wedding.”
Tears burned her eyes again, but she blinked them back. “I’ll never be able to thank you for all this.”
“Nothing to thank me for. That look on your fiancé’s face was enough.”
Richard. Her father. The reality of what waited for her beyond the marina rushed over her like a tidal wave. But her anxiety and fear about what to do next disappeared for the moment, thanks to a stranger’s kindness. “You haven’t asked me.”
“Asked you what?”
“Why I ran away,” she stated.
Monty’s half smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s none of my business. If you want to talk about it, I’m happy to listen. Otherwise, consider this sanctuary until you decide what you want to do.”
“Just be gone before the morning tide, right?” Sienna forced a laugh as she struggled out of the booth. The pinching and tightening of her dress reminded her of the uncomfortable situation she was currently in. “There is one thing I need your help with. If you don’t mind?”
“Name it.”
Her face went hot. “I’d really love to get this dress off.” She turned around so she wouldn’t have to look at him. She pulled her hair into one hand, then drew it over her shoulder. “There’s no way to get these buttons myself. Could you just—”
“Yeah.” His strangled response had her biting back a smile. “Sure. I can do that.”
* * *
MONTY FLEXED HIS suddenly sore fingers and watched Sienna Fairchild shove her way down the narrow passageway toward the forward berth. Never in his life had he seen such teeny, tiny buttons. Or so many of them. But he’d managed, finally, to pop the last one free and send her on her way. She’d stumbled, limped and fumbled, trying to keep her dress in place.
She was going to be lucky not to fall and sprain something else.
While he’d be lucky not to be haunted by images of what she wore under the dress.
For him, his planned nap was clearly out of the question. He picked up her shoes and stashed them in a cubby under the bench. While he’d bought the boat as is, and that included most everything left behind by the now elderly owner, it wasn’t anywhere close to well stocked or outfitted. The bare necessities indeed, which was exactly the tune Monty hummed as he cleaned up the remnants of the sandwiches and put away the remainder of the groceries.
The six previous boats he’d purchased for his fleet had all been in better condition than Nana’s Dream. There was a reason his brain chimed like a cash register whenever he stepped onto her. Normally he didn’t worry about money; in his experience it tended to arrive when it was needed or his patience won out over impulse. Truth was he wanted to take his time with her; she could very well end up being the best investment he’d made yet.
He’d meant it when he’d told Sienna about the boat’s soul; he’d felt the life in Dream as soon as he’d seen her online. Even before Frankie had pushed for the purchase, he’d known he’d buy her. Now that he’d done so, he had to deal with the consequences.
He pulled out his phone, tapped open the notepad app and began dictating the list of things he’d need to do, from refitting the cabinetry to ripping up the carpeting and replacing it with durable vinyl flooring. Tasks like that he could hire Kendall Davidson and her construction crew to handle. The army vet knew her way around restoration projects and he’d bet she wouldn’t mind adding boat work to what her company offered. The smaller stuff he could pass on to Kyle Knight, who was looking for opportunities to build up his construction experience for the contractor’s license he planned to test for.
Monty took pictures of the rest of the interior, avoiding the bow berth until it was unoccupied. The head would need a complete overhaul, as would the appliances in the galley. Cosmetics would come later, including a new coat of paint and maybe—maybe a new name.
He’d have to spend some time with Dream to decide. Whatever her name, he’d make certain it would fit.
He glanced toward the closed door at the end of the passageway. Sienna Fairchild definitely had a way about her. She hadn’t seemed fazed by the close quarters on the vessel and had clearly been comfortable enough with boats in general that she’d escaped onto his. Regardless, she was way out of his league. That necklace around her neck, the ring on her finger... Obviously she lived in a world he couldn’t begin to fathom. He was perfectly content living his small-town life. Nothing about Sienna Fairchild said “small town.” She’d probably been place
s he’d only pinned up pictures of on a bulletin board. At least he’d have an entertaining story to tell once he got home. He’d leave out how his heart beat double time when he’d touched her or how he’d inhaled the scent of jasmine threading through her hair. Or how soft her skin had felt beneath his touch.
“I need to get out of here,” he muttered. Making sure he had his wallet and phone, he headed above deck into the fresh afternoon air. The crowd he’d seen hours before had dissipated, apart from the caterers reloading white vans in the service entrance and the group of men who had been scurrying around the dock. Out in plain sight were a furious-looking Richard and Sienna’s father.
Monty ducked back inside and scribbled a note for Sienna, on the off chance she woke up while he was gone. Best she keep out of sight for the rest of the day. Then, whistling, as was his habit, he left Dream and headed down the dock toward the club.
He knew right when Richard had spotted him. It was like a red-hot laser beam hitting him between his shoulder blades. Monty ignored the sensation, figuring it was better to have them focusing on him rather than the boat and who might be inside.
Monty had only been inside the Empire Yacht Club a few times before, mostly on the invitation of a member when he had been on a buying trip. The blinding whiteness of the building reminded him of Liberty Lighthouse back in Butterfly Harbor, standing tall and resolute against the sky and ocean beyond. Clapboard siding gave the club building a bit of historic character, as did the hand-carved wooden signs with gold lettering. Bypassing the bar-and-grill restaurant, he turned into the expansive gift shop and set his sights on the clothes.
He heard voices in the distance. Richard again. And it didn’t sound as if he’d gotten his temper under control.
“Don’t try to stop me!” Richard’s voice exploded in the store. “I know what I’m doing. You!”
Rolling his eyes, Monty held up the gray sweatshirt with the club’s logo as if he was judging the size. “Still looking for your bride, Richard?”
The man’s cheeks went bright red. “Where is she?”
Monty shook his head. “Nothing’s changed since we last spoke,” he lied. “Haven’t seen her.”
“Oh, yeah?” Richard strode over, snatched the sweatshirt out of Monty’s grasp and waved it in front of his face. “Then what’s this?”
“That’s a sweatshirt, Richard.” Monty kept his voice calm. Rising to the bait wasn’t going to help anyone, least of all Sienna. “And I’m sorry, but I think that’s too small for you.” But it was perfect for Sienna. He plucked it free and draped it over his arm. Just for kicks, he turned his attention to the sweats-and-shorts section.
“They’re too small for you, too,” Richard seethed. “You know where she is. I know you do.”
“Richard, you’re being rude.” Vincent Fairchild’s voice intimated he’d clearly had enough of his almost son-in-law’s behavior. He, unlike Richard, appeared to have surrendered to the fact that there would be no wedding. He’d changed out of his tuxedo and now looked like a senior cover model for Seven Sails magazine. “Mr. Bettencourt, my apologies once again. We’re only trying to find Sienna before she does something drastic.”
He made Sienna sound like a wilting flower when she seemed anything but. “From where I’m standing, I’d say leaving him at the altar was smart, not drastic,” Monty said slowly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Fairchild, but I can’t help you.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Richard snapped. “Those clothes fit her. I’m sure of it.”
Monty’s temper caught, a dull flame of anger taking form in his belly. “They will also fit my sister.”
“Yeah, right,” Richard snorted.
Monty pulled out his phone and flashed a picture, one of the few of Frankie where she wasn’t in her firefighter’s uniform. “She collects sweatshirts. And shoes.” He added a pair of deck shoes to his growing pile. Sienna was going to need some getting-around clothes if she was breaking out of the marina. “Do you know if they have sunglasses?” He ignored the prices, even as he heard that darn cash register ringing in his head again.
Richard and Vincent trailed behind him to the checkout, where he found an excellent selection of shades with the club logo in the corner of the lens.
The young woman behind the counter cast nervous looks over Monty’s shoulder, and it wasn’t until he saw the current newsletter displaying Vincent Fairchild’s photo as yacht-club president that he realized why. Monty merely smiled and engaged her in small talk, easing her nerves as she packaged up his purchases.
“If you’d just let us search your boat it would solve everything,” Vincent said as they followed him back to the marina.
“Step foot on my boat and I’ll have you arrested for trespassing,” Monty said.
“I can call the police myself.” Vincent’s arrogant tone let Monty know exactly the type of person he was dealing with. “The local sheriff is a good friend of the family. He understands how these things work.”
“Well, if you do, tell Chris that Monty says hello.” Monty did a slow turn and relished the shock on Vincent and Richard’s faces. “I had breakfast with him just this morning. He and my dad worked together years ago fighting wildfires. We’ve kept in touch. So, yeah. Go ahead and call.” Monty’s lips twitched. “I’d be happy to fill him in on the harassment I’ve received from you both this afternoon.”
“Why you—”
“Richard!” Vincent caught the younger man’s arm to stop him from lunging. The temper on his face eased and the older man laughed. It was a sound that carried no humor, but the promise of something more. “I think Mr. Bettencourt and I understand each other, don’t we?”
“We sure do.” Without waiting for a response, Monty sauntered back to the boat, resisting the temptation to look over his shoulder to see if the men were still watching. The less suspicious he acted, the better.
He ducked into the cabin, headed down the hall and quietly opened the door wide enough to check on Sienna. She was wrapped up in the blankets on one of the twin beds, her wedding dress lying in a heap on the floor. She was sound asleep.
Monty set the paper bag by the bed and quietly backed out of the room.
CHAPTER THREE
DESPITE HER HOPES, clarity with respect to her situation did not present itself when Sienna woke up.
It did, however, take her a few moments to remember where she was. The small, dank cabin-type room. The tarnished brass lampshade near the door. The high narrow windows on either side of the pair of beds told her she’d slept the day away.
Her stomach pitched as if she’d been thrown into a storm-tossed sea. She sat up, dislodging the blankets, and stared in blank horror at the pile of wedding dress pooled on the floor at her feet. “I’ve really made a mess of things, haven’t I?”
Despite her earlier vow, she waited for the guilt and regret to surface, but as she sat there, the boat swaying gently in its moored state, the faint sound of water lapping against the hull, neither emotion made an appearance. The more she thought about what she’d done, the more she realized her unsettled state had more to do with ambiguity about her future rather than the choice she’d made to abandon her wedding. Somehow she’d launched herself from a safe, predictable life into a typhoon of uncertainty, and yet...
And yet.
She chewed on her manicured thumbnail, thoughts racing at peak speed. For the past two months she’d let her father and Richard run everything, from insisting they could take care of all of Nana’s funeral arrangements to pushing for a fast marriage for herself and Richard. But what was worse, she’d let them because her father had asked her to, because it was easier than making a scene, easier than being a problem.
Easier than living her own life.
“Well, you’re certainly about to start living it now.” She carefully planted her feet on the floor, then breathed a sigh of relief when there was barely a twinge of
pain. She twisted and shimmied, running her fingers under the elastic band of the underwire bra she’d tucked herself into this morning. The undergarments were nearly as uncomfortable as the gown itself. Even as she struggled to ease the band of the bra, she caught sight of the paper bag sitting beside the bed.
All the jagged edges of her day smoothed out as she found the sweatshirt and other items of clothing Monty had left for her. Affection swelled inside of her. With silent thanks, she ditched what was left of her wedding attire. Once she’d slipped into the gray sweatshirt and matching pants, she arranged her wedding gown, along with the ostentatious necklace, on the matching twin bed. The deck shoes were a little too big, so she ditched them before sitting on the edge of the bed and staring down at her engagement ring.
“You never really fit, did you?” She twisted the ring, wincing as it clung to her finger like a leech. She was meant to have it resized after the wedding. She tugged and pulled until her finger hurt and she’d left red welts on her skin. “Great. You’ll just have to stay put for now.”
She tried to tick off a mental list of things she had going for her, but said list began and ended with “being on her own.” At least until she got her inheritance from her grandmother. She’d never had a career. She and Nana had traveled so much, especially after Sienna graduated from college, that Sienna had found it easier to work part-time jobs. She knew it made her seem flighty and frivolous, especially in her father’s eyes, bouncing from employer to employer, but that flexibility had made it easier when her grandmother’s health had taken a turn for the worse.
In the months since then, Sienna had been too busy dealing with a fast-tracked wedding and moving plans to even think about finding another job, let alone deciding on a career.
Besides, Richard had often said he’d like her to continue with her and her grandmother’s past volunteer efforts and committee works; it would build up his social status and allow him to expand his contacts list—in essence, make him look good by extension.
Bride on the Run--A Clean Romance Page 3