Chapter 6 Noah #2
As we approach my villa, I can’t help but dart a look at Sienna’s door.
Ernie eyes me, picking up on the move, but he says nothing as he steps inside.
Instantly, he sucks in a breath. “Bert, look at this view.”
“Forget the view,” the heavier man says as he heads to the minibar. “Look at all these labels.” He lifts up a bottle of Hanson whiskey and grins.
“Don’t touch the minibar,” Ernie warns, heading out onto the deck.
Deflating, Bert sets the bottle down.
Angling in, I tap him on the shoulder. “You swap rooms, and I’ll cover the bottle.”
That grin creeps back up his face, and after a quick peek into the bathroom, he joins his friend on the deck.
Hands in my pockets, I wait for them to make a decision.
Will I miss this view? Sure. But this is for the best. I can sit on the beach at night. I don’t need a private deck to myself. Hell, I can go off property for dinner. I probably should. It’s likely the only way to avoid running into Sienna.
Yes. She mentioned not wanting to go to dinner alone. This is a good plan. I’ll have to find something to do off property today so I don’t risk running into her at the beach.
I’m slipping my phone from my pocket, intent on finding activities nearby, when a sweet voice filters in on the wind.
“Those are your real names?”
The low chuckles are harder to hear. I can imagine they’re giving her the same spiel they gave me.
“What happened to Noah?” she asks them.
It takes everything in me to stay where I am. If I see her, I’ll break. But if I can stay strong for the next ten minutes, then hopefully I can distance myself from the temptation for good.
“He doesn’t like the room,” Ernie explains. “So he asked if we’d swap. We haven’t decided yet, though.”
“Oh.” The way she whispers the word, in understanding, pierces my heart.
Of course she sees right through my bullshit. Why the fuck would anyone dislike this room? It’s a gorgeous beachfront villa. There’s nothing to dislike. Now she knows I’m avoiding her.
Fuck.
“Well, I’ll see you boys around, then.” At least she sounds more upbeat again.
I rub at the ache in my chest, telling myself that this is for the best. But when the guys come inside, all smiles, ready to make the swap, the ache doesn’t wane.
“Great,” I say, even as that pain intensifies. “Let me just get my stuff packed up—”
Ernie shakes his head. “We’ve got a snorkeling trip booked this morning. We can swap when we get back.”
I sigh. Dammit. I need to get out of here before I lose my mind. But it’s only a few hours. I can avoid Sienna for that long.
“All right, I can give you my number, and when you get back—”
Bert is the one who shakes his head this time, the light from outside glinting off his bald head. “No can do. No phones. You’ll just have to come with us.”
I frown, looking from one man to the other. “Come with you?”
Nodding, Ernie slips his hands into his pockets. “Yup. Get changed quick. Otherwise we’ll miss the boat.”
“The boat,” I parrot. “You want me to get changed?” With every word, I’m more lost.
“We saw the girl,” Ernie explains. “She’s gorgeous. We don’t understand why that means you need to switch rooms, but obviously you’ve got your reasons, so—”
“We’ll take you under our wing,” Bert chimes in. “You’ll snorkel with us. Then we’ll swap rooms. Deal?”
I do need to avoid Sienna for the next few hours…
“I guess we’re going snorkeling.”
Turns out there was a single spot open for the snorkeling trip. “This works out well,” the concierge said when Ernie put the phone in my room on speaker and called the front desk to get my name added to the list. “Another single booked last night as well.”
“Great,” I mumbled.
While it really was good news, since it meant I wouldn’t be the only solo snorkeler, my mood had tanked.
With any luck, I told myself that would change when we got out there. Bert and Ernie had dived headfirst into this “taking me under their wing” nonsense and refused to leave my side, so I wouldn’t have time to think about Sienna and the way she sounded this morning.
That one simple oh immediately played on repeat, pushing out even the sounds of her moans and leaving me feeling like absolute dogshit.
At the marina, multiple boats bob in the water ahead, and a sign directs us to the large catamaran where we’ll spend the day.
A man wearing yellow shorts that come to his mid-thigh and a pink muscle shirt greets us with a smile.
“Welcome aboard!” He’s probably in his mid-twenties, with dark hair, dark eyes, and an insanely muscular body.
If I met this guy anywhere else, I’d assume he was a model.
“We’re waiting on one more person, so we’ll be heading out shortly.
” He guides us into the catamaran and shows us where the refreshments are, then quickly heads back to the dock, calling over his shoulder that he’ll make a batch of his famous Caribbean punch once the last person arrives.
“The punch is always my favorite,” Bert tells me.
“Don’t have too much this early,” Ernie says, pinning me with a look. “Otherwise you’ll end up belly up while you’re snorkeling like this guy did last time.”
Bert barks out a laugh. “I don’t see the issue. I didn’t have to kick my feet, and I made it back to the boat just fine.”
Ernie shoots him a glare. “But you missed the fish. That’s the whole reason we’re here.”
“No, that’s the reason you’re here. I come for the free booze and sunshine.” He bumps my shoulder and points to Ernie. “Definitely not the company.”
Their banter quickly eases my anxiety. It’s hard to focus on my intrusive thoughts when I have to use all my brain power to keep up with their conversation.
“Hi.” A woman in her late forties appears, taking a drink from the table. “I’m Leslie. Where are you guys from?”
Ernie turns and faces her directly, immediately striking up a conversation.
Leslie’s friend Gina appears next, and according to her, the two of them are visiting from Florida.
My two new friends are taken with them immediately. It makes sense. They’re both good-looking, with bright smiles and easy laughter as Bert charms them.
Phil and Dana introduce themselves next. They’re from Arkansas, and they’re on their honeymoon. Dana spends several minutes rubbing lotion on her new husband’s shoulders and shaking her head, mumbling, “He’d get a sun rash if it weren’t for me.”
They don’t exactly give off newlywed vibes, but I’ve never been married, so what do I know?
With my towel under one arm, I’m eyeing the front of the catamaran, considering where I should set myself up, when Eddy, our model tour guide, claps his hands.
“All right, our straggler has arrived. I’ll start on the drinks, and then we’ll go over the rules of the ship.
You stay by me, beautiful Sienna,” he says, his tone pure flirtation. “Your drink is first.”
At the sound of her name, my muscles lock up. Every cell in my body urges me to turn, to look at the newcomer. Even knowing what I’ll find, the sight before me still takes my breath away.
The woman the universe keeps pushing my way stands several feet away, her skin glistening in the sun. She’s dressed in another one of those cover-ups that aren’t cover-ups, this one white. And she looks downright delectable.
The oversized glasses she had perched on her head yesterday now cover half her face, making it difficult to read her expression, but she’s turned in my direction, and the way her fingers tighten over the black bag on her shoulder tells me that she’s just as surprised as I am to see her.
The white cover-up does little to hide the hot pink strings beneath, and I have no doubt that when she turns around, the ass I’ve so quickly become obsessed with will be on full display.
As Eddy motions for her to walk ahead of him, I have to stifle a growl. Mine is what I want to say. Or maybe Keep your goddamn eyes on the fish and off her ass.
I bite my tongue. In general, I’m not a fighter. I’m not possessive, and most importantly, she’s not mine.
She’s an adult who chose to wear a revealing bathing suit, knowing full well a boat full of people would see her ass. She’s okay with that, and I have no right to an opinion. I can’t go around like a damn hotheaded hockey player and beat people up for looking.
But I want to.
When she passes by, I clear my throat, and in the lightest tone I can muster, I say, “You again.”
It’s clear from the way she shrugs and waves as she continues forward that it didn’t come out light at all.
No, it probably came out exactly how I feel: dejected, slightly irritated, and stupid.
Because who the hell fights the universe when it offers up a woman as perfect as Sienna?
Only an idiot like me.
“Isn’t that the girl from the deck?” Bert asks, leaning in close.
Ernie, who’s still chatting with Leslie and Gina, perks up and eyes Sienna’s back as she walks away. With a bow of his head, he excuses himself and sidles over to us.
“That’s her, right?” Bert prods.
Eyes squeezed shut, I pinch my brow. There’s no avoiding this, so I might as well get it over with. “Yes.”
Ernie tilts his head closer. “Why are we avoiding her?”
“I’m not,” I grit out.
Both men eye me like I’m an idiot.
“Okay.” I sigh. “I sort of am. Or I was.” I shake my head. “Clearly I’m an idiot.”
“Clearly,” Ernie agrees.
Sienna’s soft laughter echoes from where she stands beside Eddy, a drink in her hand.
It’s a performance laugh. One I bet she’s used in polite conversation a thousand times.
It only reinforces my assumption that she comes from money.
She’s practiced and rehearsed, but she was none of those things last night.
She was flirtatious yet innocent, and her laugh was loud and contagious.
And none of that has anything on the way she acted when I left the room. Or the sounds she made when she thought no one could hear.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I try not to think about that. I try not to remember her sweet sounds and sensual moans. If I do, especially with the woman standing right before me in that bathing suit, I’m at risk of tenting my shorts and showing the whole group exactly how I feel.
Eddy appears in front of us, skillfully carrying two drinks in each hand. “Who wants my special punch?”
I shake my head. Hell no. I need to have all my brain cells if I want to survive this.
After the group has toasted to new friendships, Eddy returns to Sienna and lays her towel out on the front of the catamaran. By some miracle, before he can blatantly hit on her or ogle her ass, the captain calls him over to help undo the lines.
Bert nudges me. “Now’s your time.”
I shake my head. “Let her relax. This is a four-hour trip. I’ve got plenty of time to talk to her.”
“Plenty of time.” Ernie tuts. “That’s what Bert thought about his first and second marriages.”
“And now my dog calls someone else Daddy, and I share holidays with my ex and her husband.”
I scowl. “I barely know the woman. There’s no need to even mention divorce.”
“It’s not about divorce. It’s about wasting time. Ask me how I know,” Ernie says in a tone that tells me my friend who looks like Ted Danson never found his Mary.
As the catamaran cruises out of the marina, tropical music floats around us. I can’t look away from Sienna, who’s now lying on her back, sunglasses still hiding her face.
She’s not my Mary. That’s not a real thing. Even if it were, we met yesterday. So what if we keep running into one another?
It could be that the two of us are just meant to spend the next few days having a bit of fun, right? Maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling me to relax and enjoy myself. That’s a theory I could get behind.
But more? I’ve got more than I can handle heading my way already. My son and my career are my only long-term priorities. They’re all I have room for in my life.
Eddy dances by us, hips swinging and arms rolling. “Enjoy the ride out. We’ve got thirty minutes before we reach the first diving spot.” He turns in a circle, still moving to the rhythm. “Let me know if you want a refill.”
With that, he makes his way to the front of the catamaran where he kneels beside Sienna.
She looks up at him as he speaks, and in response to whatever he asks her, she nods and then reaches into her bag. She produces a small bottle and passes it to him.
I know before he squeezes the sunscreen into his hand what it is, and when Sienna sits up and leans forward and Eddy begins lathering her with lotion, a low growl rumbles from my chest. I don’t want him touching her.
I don’t want anyone touching her.
“Barely know her, huh?” Ernie says, a knowing glint in his eye.
Fuck.