Bride on the Run--A Clean Romance

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Bride on the Run--A Clean Romance Page 5

by Anna J. Stewart


  “Monty? What the—? Do you know what time it is?”

  “I do indeed.” Monty watched as Richard tried, and failed, to haul himself onto the dock. The man looked like an inept octopus. “I’ve got a trespasser on my boat. Can you come get him and lock him up?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THERE WASN’T MUCH room to pace. Even though this cabin was larger than hers, she only managed five steps before she was spinning and moving in the opposite direction. The minutes seemed to stretch into an eternity. Of all nights for a burglar to appear on Monty’s boat, it had to be tonight?

  She sat on the edge of Monty’s bed. Crossed her legs. Crossed them the other way. Folded her arms. Slid to her feet when she heard Monty’s voice, and then another, all-too-familiar one let out a shriek seconds before a huge splash.

  Sienna fumbled with the lock on the door, yanked it open and darted up the ladder. She found Monty standing by the railing, his back to her, a phone to his ear as he looked over the side.

  “Is it...? Was it...?” Sienna let out a groan when she saw a sopping-wet Richard dragging himself onto the deck, water cascading off him. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  Still on the phone, Monty gently guided her back to the hatch. After he hung up, he spoke to her. “Looks like your fiancé is a man who doesn’t take no for an answer.”

  Horrified, Sienna could only blink into the darkness. “I am so sorry.”

  “Not as sorry as he is. Sheriff’s en route. Now stay off that ankle.”

  “The sheriff?” That got her attention. She gaped at him, mouth open. “Is that really necessary?”

  “I told Richard to stay off my boat. He didn’t.” Monty rose to his full height. “I mean what I say, Sienna. Bullies only back down when you stand up to them.”

  “Yes, of course.” She nodded, torn between laughing and screaming. She had to admit, she’d witnessed a side of Richard today she hadn’t known existed. She really had been fortunate to escape marriage to him. “It’s just...he’s had a really rough day, Monty.”

  “He’s not the only one.”

  Sienna’s lips twitched. Monty, still shirtless and barefoot—and, boy, was that an image that would keep her up the rest of the night—stepped off the boat and walked to where Richard was lying on the dock, groaning.

  It might have crossed her mind to do a bit of soul-searching had the bright, spinning police lights not interrupted the darkness a few minutes later. Two patrol cars had pulled into the marina parking lot and soon three uniformed officers were heading toward Nana’s Dream.

  She perched on the padded bench and huddled next to the bulkhead for cover. The older officer took the lead, his silver hair shimmering in the lamppost light. He stepped aboard and gave her a quick nod of acknowledgment, then disappeared around the corner with his officers.

  Unable to hear anything being said, Sienna shifted closer to the voices on the other side of the boat. She heard her name a few times, heard the distinctive irritable growling of Richard, who claimed his right to find his fiancée was more important than Monty’s ownership of the boat.

  Had she any doubts left about her decision to ditch Richard at the altar, they vanished with her ex-fiancé’s declaration of “You’ll be hearing from my lawyers.” Honestly. She’d only ever heard people on TV shows use such a line. But she’d heard it now—and at full volume as Richard was hauled away by the deputies.

  “Thanks, Chris.” Monty was coming, so Sienna quickly summoned her courage and claimed the seat she’d abandoned. She sat there, legs bouncing against the cold, as Monty rounded the corner with an older-looking man.

  “Gotta say, it’s never boring with a Bettencourt around,” the older man said with a chuckle. “Ma’am. I’m Sheriff Sutherland. You’d be Miss Fairchild?”

  “Yes. Is Richard okay?”

  “Better than he deserves to be,” Monty muttered.

  Sheriff Sutherland gave him a look. “I’d say he’s suffering from busted pride at the moment, but otherwise he’s uninjured.”

  “How long can you keep him?” Monty asked.

  “Depends. How long do you need me to?” He laughed. “Don’t answer that. I can keep him until you come in and sign your complaint. He’s already asking for a lawyer, so the window will close fast on that one.”

  “Understood. Appreciate you coming out yourself, Chris. I owe you one.”

  “Son, I think this is one I’ll owe you. Never in my life did I think I’d be arresting a waterlogged Somersby. Now that’s something we’ll celebrate at this year’s Christmas party. What about you, ma’am. Do you want to file a complaint?” He glanced at Sienna, who turned pleading eyes on Monty.

  “He’s been through enough already,” she said. “This would only add insult to injury.”

  Monty sighed, ran both hands through his hair and shook his head. “I’ll probably regret this...but tell him to leave Sienna alone, then let him go.”

  “Thank you,” Sienna whispered. She could only hope that once they finally hit open water her luck would begin to change.

  “All right then.” Sheriff Sutherland looked at each of them in turn. “Safe journey.”

  “Thanks,” Monty said. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

  “Adele and I are looking forward to Frankie’s wedding. You tell your sister if she needs anything to let me know.”

  “Will do.” Monty watched the sheriff return to his car and drive away. “Well. That’s an interesting start to our journey.”

  “I suppose it is.” Shivering, Sienna shoved herself to her feet. “If you’ve changed your mind about taking me, I understand.”

  “Have you changed yours?” he asked when he faced her again.

  “No.” If anything she was even more determined. “The offer to pay you is still open, though.”

  “That isn’t what I meant.” There was no smile now, only irritation. “I meant do you still want to go with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll knock on your door in a few hours. Try to get some sleep.”

  “All right.” She went down first, because he insisted, but when she turned to say “good night” again, he’d already closed his door.

  * * *

  SOMEHOW, DESPITE THE midnight excitement, Monty managed to grab a couple hours’ sleep before his alarm went off.

  Strange how being awakened by an obnoxious ringtone made for a more difficult start to the morning than waking up on his own, which he usually did. Just about everything felt off to him. “I wonder why that is?”

  His frustration only grew. The third time he hit his elbow against the water-stained shower wall made him curse. The solitary bathroom, located in the narrow hallway between Sienna’s bedroom and the galley, had not been designed for anyone close to his height and breadth. By the time he got to port in Butterfly Harbor he was going to be one big bruise. Towel slung around his waist, he shoved open the accordion-style door and nearly stumbled back into the shower stall.

  “Sorry.” Sienna beamed at him and seeing the laughter in her dark eyes set his teeth on edge. They hadn’t even left the marina and he was already wondering how he would deal with her in such close proximity. “Maybe I should start wearing a bell around my neck?”

  “I’ll add it to our shopping list.” The top of her head brushed his chin as they exchanged places. He could smell gardenias dancing off her hair and the scent brought to mind a lazy cruise around the Hawaiian islands against the setting sun. Oh, yeah. This trip was going to be worse than he thought. “There’s a little town about three hours north where we can get supplies, and there’s a dealer there who specializes in old boat engines. We should also be able to get you a phone and online to connect to your bank.”

  “It’s your boat. I’m just along for the ride.” There was that smile again, a smile that told him she’d shaken off whatever trepidation she m
ight have been feeling and was ready for a new adventure.

  “Great. I’ll get dressed and do a final check on the engine.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  He glanced out the narrow window over the galley table. “It’s a plan all right—at least, it is for now.” With that, he headed back to his cabin. He heard the scream before he shut his door. Still grasping his towel, he raced back to the bathroom. Monty had his hand on the door handle, then hesitated. “Sienna? You okay?”

  “No, I’m not okay.” She yanked open the door and countered his own towel with one of her own. Her face was drenched, her hair sopping. Her eyes flashed danger when she pinned him with a look. “You used all the hot water!”

  He couldn’t help it. He grinned. “Sorry about that.”

  “You know what? I don’t think you are.”

  His grin widened. “You can go first tomorrow, princess. Quirks of the Dream. Better get used to it.” This time he whistled on his way back to his cabin.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IF SHE’D KNOWN all it would take to improve Monty’s mood after encountering Richard was to get pummeled by ice-cold water, she’d have showered as soon as the sheriff had driven away. She managed to get clean in record time despite getting distracted by the citrus-scented shampoo that smelled distinctly like Monty Bettencourt’s hair. Practicality dictated she braid her hair, which she did, before pulling her sweatshirt and pants back on. Her ankle gave her barely a twinge as she finished getting dressed and headed out to start the day.

  Finding coffee already steaming and ready to pour, she grabbed the two mugs from last night, washed them and refilled them and carried them up the ladder toward the wheelhouse, where she found Monty checking gauges and testing the radio.

  “I’m not naturally sneaky,” she said after making a show of climbing the short staircase. He glanced over his shoulder as she joined him. “I’ll try not to scare you again.”

  “You can scare me all you want if you bring coffee.” He accepted the offered mug with a quick smile. “Thanks.”

  “Everything okay?” The view from the window was nothing more than a collection of boats and cruisers—a view she’d seen hundreds of times over the years. The view behind her—the view waiting for them—now that was another story.

  “Electricity seems to be working. I’m going to try not to push the engine too hard our first trip out. The ride to Plover Bay should be a good test.”

  “Like I said, I’m just along for the ride.”

  “Oh, you’re more than that.” He took a long drink of coffee. “You’re crew now.”

  “In that case, Captain, your wish is my command. If I don’t know how to do something, I’ll let you know or figure it out myself.”

  “Fair enough. You know how to unmoor us?”

  “Yep.” She set down her mug in a cup receptacle. “Quick start out, huh?”

  He nodded and she unfastened the lashings, looping each thick rope the way her grandmother had taught her back before Sienna had hit double digits. When she heard the roar of the engine catching, she picked up speed, wanting to watch the horizon come closer as they pulled out of dock.

  The morning was cool, as most mornings were this time in early April, and the wind chill increased as the boat began to move. She tilted her head, listened to the odd sounds of the engine. It definitely wasn’t as smooth as she was used to, but then, this boat had been made well before she’d been born.

  She stood at the bow, feet braced apart, hands gently clasping the brass railing as Nana’s Dream putt-putted its restrictive four miles per hour out of the marina water space.

  She’d never found anything better than the ocean wind blowing across her face as open water lay ahead. The wind made her eyes blur, and she shivered, but she stood fast, the anxiety that had been plaguing her for the past couple months fading the farther from the marina they went.

  They passed early-morning fishermen and late-night cruises on their return to the harbor. Horns blared occasionally in greeting, and soon, as Sienna closed her eyes and dropped her head back, the Empire Marina was out of sight.

  Monty steered Dream north, kicking up their speed enough to have them bouncing lightly along the current. How she loved that slap, slap, slap against the boat—it was like music to her ears, the vibration of the sea beneath the soles of her shoes reassuring. She felt the last of the emotional shackles she’d been wearing drop away and, head tilted back, she raised her arms and made like a bird soaring across the waves.

  Seagulls cawed overhead, along with a flash of bright green interspersed among the feathered creatures. A distinctive squawk had her lips curving into a smile and she returned to the wheelhouse and joined Monty.

  “Get your fill already?” Monty called over the noise of the wind and engine, his brow arched in challenge.

  “Never!” She stood beside him, feet braced apart again, and balanced herself as she drank her coffee and sighed. “This might be the best morning of my life.”

  “It’s about to get better.” He rustled up a paper bag from nearby and pulled out an oversized bagel. He tore it apart and offered her half. “My last one for the trip. Homemade by Roman’s mother, Ezzie.”

  “Thank you.” Too hungry to refuse, she accepted and bit in, her taste buds exploding with crunchy, soft, herbed goodness. “It’s delicious.”

  “Better than New York if you ask me. Not that I’d know. Chrysalis Bakery in town does pretty good ones, but I’m partial to Ezzie’s. Plus they’re free ’cause she likes me.” There was that charming smile again, the one that made her stomach do odd things.

  The sun arched higher into the sky, warming the air around them. “If you’re still hungry, you can check the fridge,” Monty called.

  She wasn’t, mainly because she wasn’t normally a breakfast person, but she suspected that wasn’t the reason he’d mentioned it. “I take it that’s code for you want something to eat?”

  “See? You’re learning to speak my language already.”

  “Or I could take the wheel?” She’d meant it to tease him, but the skeptical expression on his face clearly meant she’d failed. “Kidding! Believe me, even I’m smart enough to know not to get between a man and his...wheel this soon out. I’ll just...” She gathered up the now-empty mugs and paper bag and headed downstairs.

  She found a scribbled list of supplies on the table, most of which she couldn’t read. The man’s writing was atrocious. She’d need a code-breaker to decipher it. What she did do was take a quick inventory of all he had brought on the boat with him yesterday, noting his particular penchant for all things carbohydrate. Beyond the giant jars of peanut butter and strawberry jam, he’d brought two different kinds of bread, cookies, breakfast toaster pastries and... She pulled out a family-size bag of chocolate-coated-peanut candy.

  “A man after my own heart.” Her blood sugar was spiking just holding it. Well, she might not be much of a cook, but she could throw together some mean salads, so she added to his list, making sure each and every item was legible.

  More than once she’d caught herself reaching for her cell phone, which, of course, she didn’t have. She practically itched without it. Withdrawal, she told herself. So she set aside the impulse and made him a peanut-butter sandwich. She picked it up, along with another cup of coffee, this one in a new travel cylinder she found on the shelf next to the sink.

  It hadn’t taken her long to get her sea legs back, other than learning to try to keep as much weight off her ankle as she could. She added painkillers to the grocery list, then took his second breakfast upstairs.

  This was something she could easily get used to. Waking up in the morning with nothing around her but open water and clear sky. It was a dream, she knew. Not every morning was like this and the ocean certainly wasn’t always friendly, but this was a day she’d remember for a very long time. No matter what else might come do
wn the line, she could cling to that. And smile.

  “I added to the grocery list,” Sienna said as she handed him his sandwich and set his metal tumbler where he’d had his mug previously. “Hope that’s okay.”

  “Of course.” He had taken a seat in the padded chair, had one hand casually on the wheel, not steering necessarily, but guiding and making sure the boat stayed on course. “So, Plover Bay, here we come. Not sure what cell company you use—”

  She told him.

  “Okay, same as mine. There’s a satellite store there, so we should be able to solve at least one of your problems.”

  “I’m already itching not having mine,” she admitted.

  “They also have a pretty good farmer’s market on the weekends.”

  “How often have you been there?”

  “Too often to count. I’ve run charter fishing groups down the coast of California. They like to find out-of-the-way spots and so do I. It doesn’t have all the tourist trappings of say...well, San Diego.” His lips twitched.

  “Yes, California is known for its lack of tourist traps.” Sienna laughed in agreement. “Where does your Butterfly Harbor fall in? Seems to me it’s a tourist spot, isn’t it?”

  “Touché,” he said. “Butterfly Harbor’s special. It nearly went under a few years ago. Tons of foreclosures due to financial malfeasance on the part of the main bank in town. Took all of us coming together and fighting to save it. The current mayor’s better than the last. Mostly. We’re on the other side now and flourishing.”

  “Sounds like an interesting place.” Not that much different than most cities and towns she supposed. “It looked lovely when I saw it on a TV special. The one they aired about celebrity chef Jason Corwin and his wedding.” She could remember the images clearly; the coastal town with expansive beaches, high cliffsides and cypress trees outlining the rocky shores. There was a historic inn painted a bright summer yellow with white shutters and trim, perched at the highest point overlooking the town. The Flutterby Inn. From the moment she’d seen it on screen, she’d wanted to go there. Somehow, she’d forgotten about that.

 

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