Chapter 3 Sienna
THREE
SIENNA
The man is practically mute. Beautiful, handsome, and gorgeous, but uncomfortably quiet. He’s polite. He takes my garbage and passes it to the flight attendant, and he hands me the drinks I order. But after staring at me like he was going to devour me, he went silent.
This is so not the kind of energy I was hoping the universe would give me.
Since I was a child, I’ve had a shadow. Usually security or at least one of my brothers. My whole life, there’s always been someone there, watching me like a hawk.
Because my brothers think I’m going to our home in the Keys—on our private plane—no one bothered to assign someone to watch over me.
The freedom feels incredible.
When I move to Paris, I’ll make sure I have more privacy.
I’m a nobody outside of Boston. Really, when my brothers aren’t around, the only people who recognize me work in the fashion industry.
Alone, I could walk down the street without being recognized.
It’s the security—or my brothers—that cause people to look.
Here on this plane, not a single person recognizes me. I can be whoever I want.
Even in college, I never had the opportunity to be reckless. There were always eyes everywhere.
I’ve never even had a boyfriend. Who the hell would date a girl with four wildly overprotective older brothers? Two of whom play hockey professionally and can clearly fight, one with a scowl that can kill, and Gavin. Okay, funny, charming Gavin may not be as intimidating.
Anyone who does show interest is usually in it to get close to my brothers.
But for once, I can let loose. No one will recognize me or feign interest because of my family.
I can just be Sienna. I can relax and maybe, finally, find out what it’s like to have mind-blowing sex.
I stumbled through bad sex with a guy near the end of my senior year of high school, only to later read in Jolie that most boys don’t even know where the clit is, let alone a woman’s G-spot. In college I invested in a really good vibrator and focused on my designs instead.
It only takes one look at the man beside me to determine that he knows what he’s doing in the bedroom. Maybe it’s the glasses, though he took them off and put them away when he pulled out a paperback. I wonder if he takes them off during sex?
Perhaps it’s the romance novel he’s unabashedly reading in public. Or maybe it’s how he taps his finger gently against his tongue before he delicately turns each page. Anyone who reads with such reverence is sure to know what else he can do with that finger or that tongue.
God, I’m horny.
I squeeze my legs and thank my former self for packing toys for this trip. It’s clear as day that this man will not be showing me what he can or can’t do with either of those appendages.
Since he’s determined to ignore me, I turn my focus to the little screen in front of me. When I find the title of my favorite movie, Serendipity, nostalgia blossoms inside me, warm and comforting. For the next two hours, I’ll lose myself in the familiar story.
After the turquoise waters of the Bahamas come into view and we finally touch down, my seatmate takes my carry-on out of the overhead compartment and hands it to me.
Well, I guess that’s that. No mind-blowing orgasm from him. Bachelor number one was a dud. The universe really blew that one.
Beckett: Why is the family jet still parked at Logan?
Gavin: And why did O’Ryan think O’Rourke was traveling with you and that you gave him the weekend off?
Gavin: And how come O’Rourke says you canceled your flight and promised you were staying put in Boston with O’Ryan?
Aiden: Do we really have to go to this dinner tonight? I was looking forward to the Keys.
Brooks: For once I’m with Aiden. Why do WE have to come to your baseball wooing dinner, Beckett? Hundred bucks says Miller doesn’t even show up. AGAIN.
Gavin: Sienna!
Beckett: Found her. She’s in the Bahamas.
Aiden: How the hell did you do that?
Beckett: Tracked her phone. I know where all you bozos are at all times.
Aiden: Shit.
Gavin: Sienna! Answer your phone!
As my car service takes me to my hotel, I glare at the traitorous device that gave away my location and actually consider tossing it into the turquoise waters.
Hell no am I answering when they call. And they sure do call. Incessantly. They love me, I get that, but they’re so damn uptight. So controlling.
Though I do feel a modicum of guilt.
Fine. I sigh and open the text thread again. I’ll let them know I’m okay and then tell them to leave me the hell alone for the next four days. They’re going to have to get used to easing up on the reins anyway. What are they going to do, track my every move from another continent?
Me: Hi, my annoying, overbearing brothers. I’m fine. Yes, I’m in the Bahamas. Beckett, turn the tracking off on my phone or I’ll toss it into the ocean so you can’t find me. Love you all. See you on Tuesday!
Before they can respond, I power down the device. When the screen goes black, the last of my stress eases out of me like a wave returning to the ocean. Unfortunately, just like those waves, it will return.
I need to figure out how to let it all go. No amount of boundary-setting will keep them from caring. That means it’s time to learn not to let it bother me so much. It’s time to discover who I am without them.
As the car turns into the resort parking lot, a spark ignites inside me, sending goose bumps skittering across my skin. Maybe it’s because I’ve never done this kind of thing alone, but at the sight of the white and turquoise buildings, I can’t help but feel like this is a new beginning.
I’ve just stepped out of the car when a man rushes toward me, wearing a large, professional smile. “Ms. Langfield!”
My heart sinks.
There’s no way this isn’t my oldest brother’s doing. His emergent energy screams “Beckett Langfield threatened to do unspeakable things to me if I don’t follow his instructions to the T.” Fuck.
The man approaches me, practically tripping over his own feet.
“Welcome to Blu. We were just informed of your arrival. Please accept my apologies for not sending our service to pick you up.” He gives the perfectly fine sedan behind me a look of disgust while a second man rushes over and takes my luggage from the driver.
With a conciliatory smile at the driver, I rummage in my purse so I can tip him.
But before I can pull out cash, I’m guided away.
“Miguel will handle that for you,” the concierge says.
“Let me show you to the private lobby. I’ll bring you a drink and get you settled there while housekeeping gets your new villa ready. ”
I sigh. It’s pointless to ask, but I do it anyway. “Villa?”
“Oh, yes.” His eyes light up. “You’ve been upgraded. Congratulations.” The man looks at me like he expects to find me jubilant over this information. I suppose most people would.
So I paste on a smile and force a cheery tone. “Thank you so much. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”