Page 10 of Scorching Sienna

“How do you know how old I am?”

He waits for me as I lock the door, and then I follow him back to his car.

“I saw the birthday card on the table. Was it your birthday recently?”He opens the passenger door for me, reminding me of his warning earlier.

When he said ‘don’t,’ it sounded exactly like the same, and only, word the stranger at the club said to me. But I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it and perhaps projecting my desire for him to be that man.

“It was two days ago,” I say before he closes my door. I settle in, putting my seatbelt on and inhaling deeply. Even the smell in the truck reminds me of my mystery club man.

It occurs to me that the stranger has become a big part of my life. I wonder if he has discarded the interaction, which was significant for me, as a simple and brief exchange not worth remembering.

“Did you do anything special?” Damon glances at me briefly and nods slightly when he sees my seatbelt is on before starting the engine.

“I was supposed to go out with my friend Gloria for a quiet dinner, but she canceled at the last minute. But I don’t mind. I spent the night reading a book on my Kindle with a bottle of wine.” I smile, hoping he doesn’t pity me.

Most people's reaction when hearing this is to blame it on my lack of friends or the fact that I am an introverted loner, which I am.

What they don’t understand is that I chose this. And I continue choosing this.

I don’t like having many friends—I never have—because I find them high maintenance. James understood me.

He knew what I wanted and would organize a small dinner, just him and me. Sometimes, his parents would join. That was what I liked on my birthday.

“Perfect for you.” Damon's words surprise me, and I wonder if he is being sarcastic, but when I look at him, his face is as serious as usual.

“Yes, exactly,” is all I can say.

“Did you get any gifts?” His question makes me smile as my handfinds the pendant on the necklace under my shirt.

When I got home from the bookstore on the morning of my birthday, a small black box was sitting where a white envelope usually awaited me. I practically ran up the steps, the smile on my face nearly splitting it in two.

As always, I looked around, hoping to glimpse the mystery man. But no one was about besides the little old lady next door, asleep in her rocking chair on the porch.

I popped open the box, lifting the folded note to reveal a beautiful, dainty necklace with a stunning black heart-shaped stone hanging from it.

I couldn’t tell what gemstone it was, but instinct told me it was expensive. Perhaps black opal.

Regardless, it came with the first letter that didn’t contain seeds or referenced flowers.

Even the blackest hearts reach for the light. Wear mine close to yours. Happy Birthday, my Sienna x

My mind told me I should feel scared, but my heart just couldn’t wrap itself in that emotion. And so, without hesitation, I put it on. It felt almost sinful. Like I was accepting this man, becoming his, whoever he was. A permanent fixture now, like the ring my father gave me that sits on my right index finger.

“Sienna?” Damon’s voice breaks me from my thoughts, and I blush, lowering my hand.

This is the second time he has said my name, and how it rolls off his tongue does something to me. Six letters that sound different put together than at any other time in my life.

Is it possible that a name can belong to someone, created for onlyone person to say, and the rest of the time, people just borrow it? Practicing until the owner finally arrives.

That’s what it felt like when Damon said my name. Like I was hearing it for the first time.

It finally fitted me when it came from him.

Damon glances at me again, reminding me that I haven’t answered his question about whether I got any gifts for my birthday.

“Sorry. Yes, I got one. But it was worth a million.”

His gaze meets mine briefly, and my eyes drop to the corner of his mouth, which lifts slightly as if he is going to smile. I would love to see that. He is gorgeous now. Imagine then.

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