SIENNA SAT IN stunned silence while Monty finished prepping the boat to resume course, unable to do little more than stare at the ring that had absolutely no chance of bringing her a scintilla of happiness.
She hated it; the ring itself and everything it represented. The ostentatious emerald was a statement piece. Not for her, but for Richard. His look-how-much-money-I-can-spend-on-my-future-wife declaration. How had she not seen that before?
She tugged on the band. Just like before, it didn’t budge other than to spin in an endless tease. Telling Monty the stupid thing wouldn’t come off wouldn’t have done any good. It would have sounded like a pathetic excuse and the last thing she wanted to sound like anymore was pathetic.
Sienna glared down at the emerald, sneering at how it glinted against the light. It wasn’t even her taste! She liked dainty jewelry. Heirloom pieces that carried tradition along with a simple design, not rocks that could be seen from space. She didn’t need loud pronouncements of affection. She needed...
She took a deep breath, her brow furrowing. She wasn’t sure exactly what she needed; she only knew what she didn’t want.
He’s right. Sienna folded her hands in her lap and accepted the truth. It wasn’t that she didn’t know what she wanted out of life. Nana had taught her to embrace every day as a new possibility; dreams to be chased after, a heart to be filled. It was what Sienna wanted for herself that eluded her. Had always eluded her.
She was always chasing someone else’s approval: accolades from her father that did nothing more than push her to clamor after more; the approval of her nana. How many times had she asked herself what her mother would think? And not once had any of those things brought her an ounce of the happiness she felt on this boat with Monty.
Was it happiness? Or was it just different enough to seem enticing?
Either way, what did any of this get her?
He was irritatingly, frustratingly right. She had absolutely no idea who Sienna Fairchild was. That’s what she’d seen in the mirror at the yacht club. That’s what she’d felt, the empty life she’d been about to jump into nipping at her heels as she’d raced to the marina.
Nana’s Dream wasn’t the answer she’d been looking for. It was only the means for an escape. An escape that was almost complete now that they were nearing Butterfly Harbor and the end of her deal with Monty.
Monty. Sienna tapped her hand against her heart as if his name was enough to get it to beat steadily again.
Were her feelings for him a result of the fact that he was the utter and complete opposite of the man she’d run from marrying? Or was she just fooling herself? Was she settling because it was easy to be with Monty? Or was she genuinely falling for him?
All those questions whirling in her brain led her to only one conclusion. She would have to find out.
But did she have what it would take to learn the truth?
“STOP IT, DUCHESS.” Monty batted away the latest blueberry Duchess sent soaring in his direction. “If you aren’t going to eat, leave it alone.”
Duchess made a trilling sound in her throat. “Leave it alone. Leave it aloooooone!”
“That’s not a song.” That he knew of.
In the past few hours, his head had finally stopped throbbing and his vision cleared. He was thinking clearly enough now to admit his conversation with Sienna might have been triggered by his own curiosity about where they went from here.
The closer they got to Butterfly Harbor, the more he wondered if there was any way to fit her into his life. It was an impossible question to answer so long as she remained solidly in flux. It didn’t get more flux than Sienna Fairchild.
He wasn’t good for her as long as she didn’t know who she was or what she wanted for herself.
He could want everything for her, want to be with her, to hold her, kiss her, spend endless days out on the rioting ocean with her, but none of that meant anything if she was simply moving from one life chosen for her into another of convenience and circumstance. He didn’t want her by default.
His instincts had been right from the start. Get her off his boat as soon as he could, collect the money she owed him and let whatever happened play out however it was going to. It made perfect sense.
Except for one thing: he was already on the edge of being in love with her.
Frankie had warned him that when the time came and he discovered he was in love, it would be like a life-changing tidal wave hitting him. Life-changing? Didn’t he like his life the way it was? He thought so. Everyone else seemed to think so, too. Then again, being alone, with the rest of his life stretched out ahead of him, seemed dull and endless, like the unreachable horizon hovering at the edge of the world. And yet, he could barely wrap his mind around a future that didn’t include Sienna Fairchild.
How could he have fallen this hard and this fast? He’d resent her for it if he didn’t know none of this had been her fault.
Well, not all her fault. He glanced up at the cloudless sky, considered the fact that Sienna’s grandmother might indeed have had a hand in her granddaughter’s choice of escape vessels. “At some point you and I are going to have a talk, Winnie.” He swung his attention to Duchess, who was pacing along the console, humming to herself. “Not for repetition, bird. Seal those lips.”
“Seal those lips. Seal those lips.” Duchess clacked her beak and took a little bow.
A flashing light on the dash prevented him from responding. Monty immediately dropped speed when he identified the warning light telling him the engine was overheating. He then realized the voltage meter was dead. He swore, shoved out of his chair and dropped down the ladder to the lower level.
“What’s going on?” Sienna poked her head into the hallway. “Why have we stopped?”
“Hopefully not for the reason I’m thinking.” He pulled open the panel and saw debris that unfortunately looked like a broken drive belt. “Can you bring me the tool kit?”
“Just a sec.” While Sienna retrieved the kit, Monty kept good thoughts. He tried to remember putting in a new drive belt before leaving San Diego; he always carried spares, though. That said, he had been distracted around that time. “Here.”
Sienna passed him the box, but it didn’t take more than a few seconds for him to admit he was definitely out of luck. “Perfect.” He sat back on his heels and looked at her. “We’ve got a problem.”
“OKAY, ERIC. THANKS. Just tell Cal to bill me and I’ll take care of the invoice as soon as I’m back.” Monty heard the telltale warning that his cell battery was about to die. “Perfect. Bring my main kit with you, too, would you? See you tomorrow.” He hit the button to drop anchor and settled in.
“Well?” Sienna sat on the bench nearby, her legs and arms crossed. Monty glanced away. She’d worn those shorts again. The ones that distracted him to the point he all but forgot his name.
“We’re stuck here for the night.” He sat back on his heels and shut the cover on the engine. “Drive belt’s shot and I don’t have a spare.” He’d never be without one again, however. “My mechanic’s bringing it out tomorrow. We’re close enough he should be here by noon.”
“We’re that close to Butterfly Harbor?”
“Half a day at the speed we’ve been going, but for Phoenix it’ll only be a few hours.”
“Phoenix?”
“My speedboat. We usually use it for coast tours for one or two people, small diving groups, but she comes in handy in emergencies. I could send out a stranded signal, but we aren’t in any danger and I don’t like using up resources that can be focused elsewhere for emergencies.”
“No need to explain.” She gave him a quick, tense smile. “Just along for the ride, remember?”
Oh, he remembered.
“You know, there is one thing we haven’t done on this trip.” The second she finished her thought, her cheeks went pink. “Fishing. We haven’t done any fishing.”
“I guess we haven’t.”
“Since it sounds as if we’ll be getting into the harbor tomorrow, and we don’t have anything on the calendar for tonight—”
“Or any other night,” he added and earned a glare of irritation for interrupting. “Excellent plan for dinner. Unless you’re squeamish about the fish?”
“Please.” Her mouth twisted. “I was scaling and gutting fish before I hit double digits. I’ll get the rods. You get the chairs.”
AS GOOD AS Sienna was about distracting other people, she was horrible at it for herself. She’d spent the morning and half the afternoon going over the notes she’d made about Frankie’s wedding, completed a tentative schedule of businesses to connect with as soon as she was in town and decided to leave the seating chart alone until she spoke to the bride and groom face-to-face for their suggestions and ideas.
Why she thought sitting beside Monty on the deck of his boat for potentially hours waiting for the fish to bite would be a welcome respite was clearly an error in judgment. Although, who knew? Maybe she’d suddenly have the epiphany that she was destined for a life of competitive sports fishing.
“Nice reels.”
“I found this box of tackle, too. They look handmade.” She handed him the metal box, then shielded her eyes and looked up. “This is good timing. Dusk is setting in.” Even though it was late in the day, they may still have a chance of catching something. “They’ll work, yeah?”
“They’ll work.” He examined the rod she handed to him. “So will this. Want me to check—?”
“I’ve got it.” She didn’t snap, just made the simple declaration. She chose her own tackle from the box and tied it on. A few minutes later she was casting off and taking a seat in the chair beside him.
“You’ve definitely done this before.” He repeated her actions, got a bit more distance than she had and set the pole down in the receptacle on the arm of his chair. “I was thinking about grabbing a beer. You want one?”
“No, thanks. But I’ll take some wine.”
“Good idea. I’ll join you.”
Forced politeness, Sienna thought as he disappeared below deck, had its advantages. He’d set new ground rules for his boat. Nothing romantic. Nothing emotional. Until she got her life straightened out, it was all business between them.
Business. Sienna wished she had that wine now. She was not looking forward to having to deal with the real-life stuff that awaited her. The finalization of her grandmother’s will next week meant she needed to have a plan of action where her future was concerned. Her days of part-time jobs were over. Her inheritance would give her a cushion, but she needed... No, that was wrong. She wanted a purpose. “Here you go.” Monty traversed the rocking of the boat with a practiced step. “Depending on what we catch, we should have plenty of food left to supplement.”
“Works for me.” She accepted her wineglass and leaned back her head, keeping one eye on her line and the other on the water. “Why Wind Walkers?”
“That’s what my dad called sailing. Walking on the wind. Seemed fitting.”
She envied him, being able to talk about his father with such affection.
He settled in his chair, stretched out his legs. “I was all over the place growing up. Couldn’t make up my mind about anything I wanted to do. Drove my father nuts. It didn’t help that both Frankie and Sebastian knew exactly what they wanted.”
“What’s Sebastian do?”
“He owns a bookstore. Cat’s Eye. Perfect little shop off Monarch Lane. He opened it about six months after Mandy was born.”
“Cat’s Eye?”
“Sebastian is also a cat person.” Monty chuckled. “Passed that on to Mandy. They’ve fostered hundreds of cats over the years, most of whom are featured guests in the store. He even rigged these platforms on the walls, above the stock shelves, that the cats jump to and sleep on. They only have two cats now, Tribble and Balthazar. The shelter has been able to keep up and more foster families have stepped in.”
“Cats and books. Interesting combination.”
“It’s his dream come true. Just like firefighting is Frankie’s.”
“And Wind Walkers is yours.”
“I always knew I wanted to make the ocean my office.” He drank more wine. “After my dad was killed, and then my mom left, I had to make a living. A local fisherman taught me a lot about boating, let me borrow his vessel when he wasn’t using it. Spent a lot of time getting to know the area. I went to work for a tour-boat company out of Monterey. Learned the ins and outs, made note of what I thought worked, what didn’t. Eventually I earned enough money to buy my first boat, and on my days off, started running tours out of Butterfly Harbor. Took a while to catch on with tourists, once we got some coming in, at least. For a good while, my business came from town residents, which I was grateful for. That was about five years ago, I think.”
“It makes you happy.” What must that be like? she wondered. To find fulfillment like that?
“It does. The ocean puts everything in perspective. It reminds you every day how small a place you take up in the world. At the same time, it presents new challenges, allows you to explore, contemplate, discover new things about yourself you can’t ignore out here.”
“What do you think your parents would say?” She had to admit, she was curious about his family, especially about the man who raised him. To have lost his father at such a young age and not hold any bitterness about it... She found it confusing. She’d only seen photographs of her mother; didn’t have any memory of her at all and she resented having missed out on that relationship.
“My dad would be thrilled. I’m a productive member of society who loves what he does.” He glanced over at her. “That’s all he ever wanted for me.”
“And your mom?”
His smile dipped. “Roxie would probably say I don’t make enough money. Although, who knows? Maybe after all this time she’s changed. But I doubt it.”
They’d each lost their mothers, although in different ways. “You and Frankie don’t see her?”
“I ran into her last year. She was dealing blackjack in a casino in Reno. Still waiting for her prince to rescue her from her horrible, mundane life.”
“She lost her prince when your dad died.”
“Oh, Dad was not her prince. At least not the prince she thought he was. As Frankie puts it, Roxie loved the idea of being married to a firefighter more than the actual marriage. She thought he was going places. It wasn’t until they got married that she realized he’d made a commitment to protect Butterfly Harbor and didn’t ever want to leave. She left town the day after Frankie and I turned eighteen. She’s never been back.”
“That’s...” Again, he wasn’t bitter. Well, maybe a little, but he certainly didn’t seem to dwell on it. How did he do that? “That’s so sad.”
“It is what it is. I considered myself lucky she didn’t sell the house first. I got the one Frankie and I grew up in. Frankie inherited our grandparents’. It all worked out for the best.” He ducked his chin. “It will for you, too. You just need to find your way.”
That was easy for him to say. He’d had a solid foundation. Even with the loss of his father, his neighbors and friends had stepped in to support him. The idea sounded almost fantastical. She’d certainly had her share of journeys with her nana, but she had to think perhaps she was far more sheltered than he’d ever been living in a small town.
“I’ve always asked permission for everything I’ve ever wanted to do.” What a sad statement to have made. “As if my success depended on the approval of others. What someone else thinks doesn’t mean anything, does it? Not if you’re happy.”
“So long as you aren’t hurting anyone else. Absolutely not. It shouldn’t.” He finished his wine as she looked down at hers. “You’re thinking about Richard and your father, aren’t you?”
Shame swept over her like a tidal wave. “What must it say about me that even as an adult, getting my father’s approval was worth surrendering my happiness?”
“Except you didn’t surrender it. Did you?”
“I waited until the last minute, though. Another half hour and I’d have been walking down that aisle to marry a man I know little to nothing about. Because it was the first time my father was proud of me for something. My grandmother must be screaming at me from the afterlife.”
“It doesn’t matter what you did, Sienna. It matters what you do from here. And by here,” he added before she could return them to their earlier conversation, “I mean from the moment you step off my boat. You can’t have your life be dependent on what anyone else does, sees or feels. You’ve given yourself the opportunity to finally find where you belong, what works for you. Don’t limit yourself by fooling yourself or settling like my mother did. Believe me, you will end up miserable and alone.”
“I’m not alone here, am I?”
“No, you’re not.” He glanced away and readjusted his fishing rod. “You’re with a friend.”
“A friend.” Awesome. She’d been friend-zoned.
“Doesn’t sound as if you’ve had a whole lot of those, Sienna. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t be in the situation you’re in now.”
“I could do with a friend,” she mused. At least he wasn’t cutting her completely out of his life. “If for no other reason than to stop me from making stupid mistakes like getting engaged. I should let Tabitha have him.”
“Tabitha?” Now it was his turn to sound quizzical.
“My cousin. Uncle Frank’s youngest. She was my maid of honor.”
“So you do have family and friends.”
“Family, yes. The more I think about it, the more I realize we were never really friends. I always got the feeling she was jealous of my relationship with Nana. Of course, I was always jealous because she had a mom. It’s all about perspective, isn’t it?”
“I suppose it is.”
Sienna’s line snapped tight. The reel began whizzing as whatever had caught at the end was making a break for it.
“Grab it!” Monty ordered.
“Got it.” Sienna pulled the rod out of its holder, bracing it against her thigh. She pulled back, tightened her hold with one hand and started cranking the reel with her other. “Holy mackerel, this thing is heavy.” Her arms strained as she struggled.
“You’ve got it!” Monty got to his feet, moved behind her, but he didn’t touch her; didn’t even try to help her. “Just keep it steady, nice and even. There you go.”
Sienna laughed in the moment and then nearly lost her grip. When the flapping fish slammed against the hull of the boat, she yanked up hard. The fish dropped onto the deck, flipping and flopping, its silvery scales glistening in the dimming sun. She blinked, set down her rod and walked around to examine it. “What is it?”
“It’s a fish.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Dinner?”
She laughed.
“It’s a sablefish,” he told her. “Black cod.”
“Oh, a butterfish. Excellent.”
“So you’ve cooked one before?” He bent down and removed the hook from the fish’s mouth and set her future meal into a bucket.
“Nope. I’ve eaten one, though.” She grinned. “Your turn.” She pointed to his line as it whizzed free. “Need some help?”
“No, thank you.” Monty retrieved his rod and a few minutes later had another fish landing on the deck. “Halibut. Excellent.”
“Tonight, we shall feast.” This time it was Sienna who made quick work of the hook while Monty gathered up their equipment.
Contentment slid through her. They really did make a good team and the quiet fishing time gave her new insight into the man who had inadvertently ridden to her rescue.
“Hang on!” Monty held up a finger, then disappeared downstairs, only to return a few minutes later with a tape measure.
“Really?” She folded her arms across her chest and waited as he studied each one. “Well?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
She beamed. “Ha! Sure it does. ’Cause mine’s bigger. For the record and between friends.” She moved him aside and grabbed the handle of the bucket. “That wasn’t a question I needed an answer to.”
He smiled back and chuckled. “Noted for future reference.”