Bride on the Run--A Clean Romance

by Anna J. Stewart

“I’m not sure.” But it could be. Oh, this was a bad idea. But it was still an idea. “Let me ask you a question.”

  “All right.” Her brow furrowed.

  “Did you plan all your own wedding stuff?”

  “Most of it, yeah. I worked with a wedding planner for some, mainly because my father insisted, but I didn’t need the help. I was grateful for something to focus on after losing Nana. Why?”

  “Well.” He wasn’t really going to do this, was he? He wasn’t really going to ask her to stick around Butterfly Harbor once they arrived so she could help with his sister’s wedding. He needed her gone, needed her to find her own life so he could stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss her again. Hold her again. Chase her around his boat in the ocean again.

  He needed her out of his life before he fell in love with her.

  “Well, what?”

  “Remember how not so long ago we talked about you paying me for transport on my boat?”

  Her eyes went wide. “You’ve changed your mind?”

  “Not exactly.” He mentally crossed his fingers. “How would you feel about giving my sister a hand with planning her wedding?”

  * * *

  “SO LET ME get this straight.” Sienna wasn’t sure what she was more anxious about: the extra-large, double-cheese, extra-mushroom-and-sausage pizza that should be landing on their table any second, or the fact Monty was asking her to help organize his sister’s wedding. “You want me to oversee your sister’s wedding arrangements. Me? Someone she’s never met and who doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to successful nuptials.”

  He suddenly looked as if he hadn’t really thought about it from that perspective. “Just because the bride changed her mind doesn’t mean the rest of the event wasn’t done to perfection.”

  She smiled. “You’re reaching, Monty. What gives? No, wait!” She held up a hand when she spotted their server on her way over. “Hold that thought. Thank you.” Did she sound as grateful as she felt? The pie took up most of the width of the table. Sienna leaned over, closed her eyes and inhaled the fragrant steam rising off the fresh-baked pizza. “We should take a moment and just...hey!” She tried to knock his hands away but he was already lifting a slice to his mouth. “Careful, it’s hot!”

  “Don’t care,” he mumbled around a mouthful of food. “I’ve been thinking about pizza since that salad you made yesterday. And for the record, no more kale. I don’t care if it’s buried in eggs or bacon.”

  She chuckled, thinking the kale-and-tomato frittata she’d made for breakfast was delish, but maybe there was a limit to healthy eating. She had, after all, hidden most of his junk food; not to save him from a sugar coma, but to stop herself from self-pity bingeing.

  The pizza, she soon discovered, was worth the detour and lost time, not to mention a burned mouth. She loved how Monty seemed to know about all these little hidden gems of restaurants and mentally added this place to her must-return-to list.

  “It’s really good,” she moaned around a mouthful of spicy tomato sauce and melted cheese.

  “It is. You’ll have to try Zane’s when we get to Butterfly Harbor. It’s even better.”

  “Not possible. For American pizza, anyway,” she clarified. “Best pizza I ever had was in this little town in Italy. Nana and I took cooking lessons one summer. Pulled the tomatoes right off the vines on the villa property where we stayed. Now that’s an experience.”

  He glanced away, his jaw tensing. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t a fan of the real stuff. Sienna cleared her throat. “Back to your sister’s wedding.”

  “She just needs someone to handle the fine tuning. All the major arrangements have been made. For the most part, I think. We’re talking payments, confirming delivery times, getting everything set up for the day of. Jason Corwin’s handling the catering, although I’m betting Alethea is going to be helping. She runs his food truck.”

  The slice of pizza stopped halfway to her mouth. “Jason Corwin has a food truck? In Butterfly Harbor?”

  “Yeah. Quick, casual versions of his in-house specialties. Alethea drives that thing around town a couple of times a day, usually landing at the sanctuary construction site at lunch.”

  “I cannot wait to see this town of yours.” She shook her head. “But about Frankie. Are you sure she really needs me?” In her experience, brides often wanted more control over the details than they were willing to relinquish. “This isn’t just her having a bride-panic moment?”

  “Frankie’s not a push-the-panic-button kind of person.” Monty reached for another slice and Sienna considered if they should order a second pie. “If she’s freaking out, there’s a reason. I just want to lighten her load, you know? And you’ve said you aren’t in any hurry to get anywhere and you like projects.”

  “That’s true,” Sienna agreed. “Not so long ago you said the sooner we got there, the sooner I’d be gone.”

  He shrugged. “Things change. I can give this to Frankie as part of her wedding gift.”

  “You want to give me to your sister as a gift?”

  “I want to give her the gift of peace of mind. If you don’t think the exchange is fair, tell me how much.”

  “As you said the night we met, not everything is about money.” The way she said it, the sharpness in her voice, had him arching an eyebrow even as she thought about sinking into her ripped upholstered seat. “What I mean is I wouldn’t be doing this for money. It would be as a favor to someone who’s done me an even bigger one.”

  “It’s a service for a service.”

  “Here’s the thing.” She snagged another piece of pizza before he plowed through the rest. “It isn’t really up to either you or me. It’s up to Frankie. I need to talk to her.”

  “Talk to her like now?”

  “Yep.” She pointed to his cell sitting on the table. “Give her a call, tell her what you’re planning and what you’d like to do. Then I’ll tell her what she can expect. And she can tell me what still needs to be done. When’s the wedding again?”

  “Twelve days.”

  She nearly choked. “We’ve got, what? Another two or three days before we even get there?”

  “If we’re lucky.” He signaled their server, ordered another beer and, to Sienna’s amusement and relief, another pizza. “Storm warning came over the radio a few hours ago. It’s going to slam the coast before we can get there.”

  “All right.” Was this something she should be worried about? “Get me on the phone with Frankie and we’ll go from there.”

  He picked up his cell and, after an uncertain look at Sienna, made the call. “Hey, Frankie. Yes, I’m calling back. I’ve got a solution to your wedding problems. But first...” A smile spread across his mouth as he looked at Sienna. “Have I got a story to tell you.”

  * * *

  “YOU DO REALIZE that bird isn’t ours.” Monty stood back as Sienna accepted the bag from the cashier at a convenience store before they headed over to the marina. “What are you going to do with those baby toys when Duchess takes off again?”

  “Donate them to an animal shelter or vet’s office. Does Butterfly Harbor have either?”

  “Seeing as we don’t live in the Dark Ages, yes. We have both, actually.” She really was disconnected from the real world, wasn’t she? “Were those really necessary? We don’t want to entice Duchess to stay.”

  “Maybe not,” Sienna agreed in that carefree tone of hers that buoyed Monty’s dwindling spirits. “But we also don’t want her ripping apart your boat because she’s bored.” She dug into the bag and pulled out the oversized plastic ring of keys. She jangled them in front of her. “Besides, they’re so cute!”

  “Adorable.” Tired of waiting for her to tell him, he finally asked, “So what did you and Frankie talk about?”

  Sienna turned confused eyes on him. “You were sitting right there.” />
  “I only heard one side of the conversation. She didn’t prod you too much, did she?”

  “You mean about my great escape in a wedding gown? No. Funny enough, it’s her own wedding that’s in the forefront of her mind. Relax, Monty. I found out what I needed to know and am already on the job.”

  Considering the number of napkins she’d scribbled on, it looked to him as if she was taking on an international trade agreement. “And what did you need to know?”

  “That she’s pretty much an overwhelmed bride-to-be who, despite her claims to the contrary, really wants the wedding she’s dreamed of to go off without a hitch. She’s going to hand off all the paperwork to me as soon as we get into town. In the meantime, she’s emailing me a list of tasks she’s been dealing with.”

  “But you don’t have a phone.”

  “Correction. She’s going to email you with the list and you’re going to let me see it.”

  “I’m going to lose control of my cell phone, aren’t I?”

  “Hmm. Maybe. Oh, and there’s this one. I’ve heard parrots love mirrors.”

  “Don’t get too attached to the bird, Sienna.” They crossed the street to the marina, but before they buzzed through the security gate, Monty stopped at the nearby newspaper stand. He scanned the latest selection of fishing and diving magazines, chose a few and was about to pay when once again, the front page of a newspaper caught his attention. The headline sent chills down his spine.

  He added the paper to the stack, then hurried to where he’d left Sienna and quickly got them through the gate and almost sprinting toward the boat.

  “What’s wrong?” Sienna rushed to keep up. “Someone on your tail?” Her laughter died when he glared at her. He waited until they were inside the cabin before he handed her the newspaper. The color drained from her face. “Oh. Oh, no. I can’t believe this. It isn’t right.”

  “Since when does right have anything to do with headlines? You’ve been promoted from runaway bride to kidnapped bride.”

  “It says ‘potentially,’” Sienna said quietly. “And it doesn’t have your name anywhere. It’s a fishing expedition, Monty. Not any real truths. If anything, it’s spin from Richard’s people because he got ditched at the altar. They’re trying to repair his reputation and make him the sympathetic character in all this.” She looked at him, disappointment mingling with uncertainty in her dark eyes. “If anyone should be angry about this, it’s me. Other than saying ‘suspected abduction of the bride,’ it’s totally focused on him.”

  Monty took the paper from her and scanned the article. She was right. He was so focused on being accused of kidnapping he hadn’t stopped to consider what had been written—or in this case not written—about Sienna. Until he read the last paragraph: a statement issued by Sienna’s father. “What the—? Did you read this?”

  “I read it,” Sienna said with a tight smile when he lifted his gaze to hers. “Fatherly concern isn’t what it should be.”

  “How could he say this about you?” The statement sounded so cold. So detached. “Your own father?”

  “I told you my father protects what’s most important—his business. What I’ve done threatens it.” Sienna turned her back on Monty, but not before he saw the hurt flash across her face. She let out a sharp whistle and called Duchess by name. Monty heard the bird squawk from somewhere above deck.

  “Sienna, what he says...” He scanned the paragraph again, trying to absorb the audacity of a so-called father throwing his daughter to the media wolves.

  “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before. I’m troubled, fragile, uncertain and easily overwhelmed. Not always rational and tend to make impulsive, destructive decisions. Granted, I heard him say all that to my grandmother when he didn’t know I was listening. Then again, maybe he did. Who knows? Duchess!” She whistled again and rattled the baby keys as an enticement.

  “What’s this about a hospitalization? Is that true?”

  She looked at him over her shoulder. “Does it matter?”

  Try as he might, he couldn’t decipher her expression. “Of course, it doesn’t.”

  “Nice try.” Sienna smirked. “I have to admit, my father played this one pretty well. He’s made me long for the days he ignored me. Now he’s planted doubts in your head about my ability to make the right choices, and has you thinking about dropping me off at the next port.”

  “That’s not what I’m thinking at all,” he lied. The doubts were there. Doubts he had trouble understanding.

  “Really?” She didn’t look convinced. “It’s what I would be thinking in your place. It’s what most people would think.”

  “I’m not most people.”

  She lifted a hand to his face, stroked his cheek and offered him the saddest smile he’d ever seen. “You’re really not, are you? You’re trying too hard.”

  In the instant before she turned away from him again, Monty didn’t see the fun, flirty, trying-to-figure-it-out Sienna who had made a mad dash onto his boat a few days ago. He couldn’t hear her laugh or see that smile that lit up her eyes like the stars sparkling in the midnight sky. No. What he saw was a lonely, confused, admirable woman who was searching for the same thing so many others were, including himself. They were all looking for...someone to call home.

  Rather than go after her when she went up the ladder calling for Duchess, he found himself frozen where he stood, his heart breaking for Sienna Fairchild. Possibly forever lost.

  CHAPTER TEN

  DARKNESS DESCENDED AND Sienna waited, minute after minute, breath after breath, for the worry to cease and the calm to return. One throwaway paragraph in a newspaper story and she was right back in the lonely hole she’d been trying so desperately to climb out of.

  She sighed, regret lodged in her chest. How could he not doubt her when there were times she doubted herself?

  Duchess’s talons clipped along the fiberglass deck as she approached Sienna and dropped her new toy, the plastic keys, into Sienna’s lap. Sienna managed a weak smile and drew her finger down the parrot’s head. “You’re such a pretty girl, Duchess.”

  “Make it work.” Duchess bobbed her head.

  “You’re also lucky, Duchess. Flying from boat to boat. Nothing to worry about other than who you’re going to annoy next. No one to disappoint.”

  “No one’s disappointed in you, Sienna.” Monty’s voice echoed out of the darkness.

  She uncurled her legs and drew them up against her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees as if creating a shell of protection. Sienna waited for him to make a joke, to try to get her to laugh or forget about that stupid headline. How had she thought, even for an instant, that her father would just let her run away when doing so clearly ruined whatever plans he’d had?

  “Scoot over, bird.” Monty sat down beside her, stretched out his legs and held out a mug topped with what looked like half a can of whipped cream. “My dad’s cure-all. Lucky for you I found where you hid the chocolate. Duchess, go entertain yourself.”

  “Squawk. Pretty bird. Pretty smart bird.” She high-footed it across the deck like a soldier marching into battle.

  “Sure, yeah, pretty bird. Ah-ah.” He pulled the mug back when Sienna reached for it, and set it on the deck beside him. “There’s a price you need to pay.” Even in the growing dusk, she could see the kindness radiating in his eyes. “Tell me.”

  “Tell you what?” Sienna pinched her eyebrows together so tight her forehead hurt.

  “Tell me what it is your father thinks is going to have me or anyone wanting to help you running for the hills.” He caught her chin under his finger, tilted up her head. “I’m not running anywhere, Sienna. We have a deal. You’re stuck with me, so you may as well fill me in.”

  “Maybe I don’t want you to know that part of me.”

  He didn’t release his hold. He didn’t stop gazing into her eyes. “Maybe
it’s time someone did.”

  She liked where they were. Liked how they were with one another. What if...what if she told him and he couldn’t accept it or thought her a complete waste of his time? “It’s not something I dwell on. It’s—it’s in the past.”

  “Obviously it’s not, otherwise it wouldn’t still hurt. Now spill. Before your cocoa gets cold.”

  The words welled in her chest before she managed to push them up and out. “It happened when I was twelve. Up until then I’d mainly been raised by nannies. My father traveled a lot, as did my grandmother. About every two or three months she’d whirl in for a visit, this tornado of energy that was exhilarating and terrifying. But between those visits, I spent a lot of time alone. That was the year I got up the courage to ask for a dog for my birthday, but my father said they didn’t do anything but make a mess. He had my nanny sign me up for horseback riding lessons instead.”

  “Not your favorite activity, huh?”

  “I hated it. I was terrified of the horses, which, of course, they picked up on. During one lesson, I got thrown. Right over the horse’s head. I don’t remember landing, but I do recall this odd sensation of flying. I broke my left arm in three places.” She stretched out her arm and traced her finger over the barely there scar. “I also had a massive concussion despite having worn a helmet. The doctors told my father the helmet had saved my life. My father’s response was to ask how long before I could ride again.” Sienna cringed. “I did not react well to that question. I had a bit of a meltdown and needed to be sedated.”

  “You poor kid.” Monty slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. She squeezed her eyes shut, as much to stop the tears as to not watch him look at her.

  “Dad didn’t know how to respond to that, and pretty much told the doctors to ‘fix me.’ Translated, that means he ordered them to keep me quiet until I could be controlled. He had me transferred to a private clinic, where I was watched and supervised. One of the board members at the hospital found my grandmother overseas and called her. She was at my bedside within a day.” She swiped away an escaped tear.