Page 33 of Accidental Mile High Daddy
“Thanks for hanging out with me today, Zach,” Sienna added. “Same tomorrow?”
He beamed so wide at her that I almost worried another tooth would come loose. “Okay!”
I hooked an arm around her waist and led her out into the warm night, the sky above turning pink and orange above the palms. The other villas lining the path were coming to life, with groups of wedding guests dressed in formalwear heading towardthe main building, soft chatter and laughter ringing out across the resort.
Sienna tucked her bag under one arm, watching the parade of rich idiots in flowing linen and silk wander past us. There was something I couldn’t quite place in her expression, something guarded, something stashed away like it was either treasure or a weakness.
I slowed as we reached the turnoff that would lead us toward the dining area, something clicking in my head.
I didn’t want to go.
Not because I couldn’t tolerate the guests. Not because I wasn’t capable of stomaching another night watching Ryan try to flourish in attention bought by my money.
I knew she was dressed for revenge, dressed for combat, but I didn’t want to share her. I didn’t want to give them that.
At least not tonight.
My feet dug into the wooden walkway as I pulled her to a stop. “Do you want to go to this?”
She raised a brow as she looked up at me. “Are you seriously asking me if I want to make small talk with people I don’t know, eat overpriced mass-cooked seafood, and stare at my ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend all night?” she asked, the breeze pushing her little waves across her cheeks and lips. “Because the answer is no. God, no.”
I reached up and caught the strands with my finger, tucking them behind her ear. “Let’s ditch it.”
“I spent three hours getting ready?—”
“Let’s go somewhere else,” I said, cutting her off. “Not back to the villa.”
Her eyes flicked between mine, her brows shifting almost imperceptibly.
“Just you and me,” I added, my voice a little lower. “Real food, real drinks, zero Ryan and Lauren.”
She blinked and turned her head back toward the spot everyone else was heading to, hesitating, before turning back to me, her gaze dropping just briefly to my mouth before locking on my eyes again. “Yeah,” she breathed. “Okay.”
That was more than enough confirmation for me.
I slipped my hand around her waist and led her away from the main building, down the opposite path toward the taxi rank and private vans. She didn’t ask where we were going. She didn’t even look back.
————
The restaurant was tucked behind an unmarked gate on a winding road, fifteen minutes from the resort but far more upscale than anything Ryan could dream of conceiving. Dark wood, low candlelight, and a wrap-around terrace that overlooked the ruins of a Mayan pyramid, the cliffs, and the water, like it belonged to us alone.
Our server, a woman with a thick accent and a friendly smile, took one look at us and offered a quiet table for two on the terrace. No menus, just drinks and chef’s choice small plates.
There was an ease to the way we settled in. It wasn’t awkward or overly charged like when I’d met her in that first-class lounge, and it certainly wasn’t as stressful as it had been last night with Ryan’s gaze trailing us. It was simple, calm, like we weren’t two people actively trying to ruin my brother’s weekend. Like it had been all day.
By the time the first course arrived, we were halfway through our second cocktail. Sienna leaned in, chin resting on herknuckles, the dim and flickering candlelight twinkling off the greens in her eyes.
“I keep waiting for this to feel weird,” she said casually.
I quirked an eyebrow at her as I set my drink back down on the table. “And?”
“It hasn’t.”
“Disappointed?”
Her lips twisted up at the corners. “Mildly.”
We fell into a rhythm — easy, strange, anddangerousin its simplicity. She asked about Zach’s favorite movies. I told her about the time he’d tried to mail his dinosaur back in time. She told me about her classroom, about how her students were already planning to stage a mutiny because they were expected to do math differently now. I told her I was surprised she hadn’t gone for something easier and more financially stable than wrangling hormonal pre-teens for a living.
