Chapter 1
Sienna’s POV
"You want me to share the backseat with your dad?"
I glared at Kevin, fighting the urge to chuck my phone right at his stupidly excited face.
"Fuck no! The back is basically a goddamn landfill right now. There’s zero chance I’m squeezing in there!"
"Sienna, watch your tone," Kevin scolded.
He leaned halfway out of the driver’s seat, waving me over with this obnoxious hurry-the-fuck-up look.
In the morning light, his black Jeep was packed to the absolute brim.
The passenger seat was jammed tight by a massive cooler, and the back was piled like a mountain: fishing rods, a folding grill, two cases of beer, and the fucking PS5 and controllers he just had to bring.
There wasn't even room to plant a foot.
"If we leave any later, I'll have to drive that shitty mountain road in the dark." Kevin whined. "Plus, you promised. It's our one-year anniversary, and you said you'd try to bond with my dad."
"Bond?" I gripped my backpack straps so hard my knuckles turned white, pointing at the disaster zone.
"Bond so hard the seatbelts are buried under boxes? How exactly are you planning to shove human beings back there?"
A deep, slightly exasperated voice came from behind the car.
"We did pack a bit excessively."
Grant walked around from the trunk, a bag of ice in one hand.
The morning wind plastered his black tactical jacket against his chest, outlining the sharp, rugged lines of his broad shoulders.
The silver at his temples caught the light. It didn’t age him. If anything, it made those dark, intense eyes look even heavier, more intimidating.
It was a total mindfuck trying to reconcile this man with the frantic energy radiating from Kevin.
One was a man who exuded absolute control; the other was an overgrown frat boy treating every weekend like a kegger.
Whenever father and son stood next to each other, my skin would prickle with a weird, unnameable tension.
"Maybe you guys should just go without me," I said, taking a half-step back.
"I don't even know how to fish. I can literally just wait down in town at a coffee shop and scroll through my phone."
Kevin immediately snatched my wrist, his voice jumping an octave.
"It’s our one-year anniversary! You promised. Don't flake on me now, Sienna. Come on."
I held back a groan. Once Kevin dug his heels in, there was no changing his mind.
He was exactly the kind of oblivious idiot who thought "bonding with your future father-in-law" was a romantic anniversary getaway.
Grant dropped the ice into the cooler.
He eyed the cramped backseat, then slowly shifted his gaze to me.
"The passenger seat is stuck. Forcing it will snap the latch." His deep voice was steady. "The back is tight, but there's barely enough room for two. I don't want you hurting yourself on a bumpy ride."
The moment he spoke, Kevin shut up.
That dark, authoritative tone—the kind that demanded submission without even trying—always worked on him.
"Oh, perfect!" Kevin’s eyes lit up like he’d just solved world peace.
"I'll drive, Dad takes the back. Sienna can just sit on your lap. Problem solved!"
Grant’s brow furrowed, his stare darkening instantly.
"Sit on my lap?"
"Yeah! This mountain road is steep as hell. She sucks at off-roading, so it’s safer if I drive." Kevin grinned. "You sit in the back, she sits on your lap—boom, done. We can't just have her squatting on a box for two hours, right?"
Grant didn't answer right away.
The silence stretched for a few heavy, agonizing seconds.
His gaze bypassed Kevin entirely and landed flush on my face.
His stare was incredibly steady, laced with something predatory and unreadable that made the breath hitch in my throat.
Finally, his voice dropped to a low, gravelly timbre.
"Alright. I'll take the back. Let's just try not to make this harder than it needs to be."
"Wait, hold up," I blurted out.
"Do I not get a fucking say in this? No way. I'd rather walk."
Both men turned to look at me at the exact same time.
In that suffocating second, it hit me—they had both just implicitly agreed to this insane arrangement.
Holy shit.
I bit down on my lower lip, tasting my own apprehension, and yanked the back door open.
I climbed in, not wanting to ruin the goddamn anniversary.
But as the engine roared to life, a shameful, frantic realization gnawed at my nerves.
Grant could have easily said no.
He’s a man who takes orders from no one.
Yet, he agreed to it.
With barely any hesitation at all.