Merry with a Captain (Love Beach, Holiday Collection)

Chapter 3

3

F letch lay on the bed with his eyes closed. He didn't have to open them to know that Robyn had left. He hadn't heard her leave, and he was trying to decide if he was surprised or not.

As the old cliché goes, she’d rocked his world last night. So, with her gone and not there in the morning light, he felt a bit lost. Like something was missing and he wished he had woken up when she gotten out of bed.

All they had was each other's first names; he didn't know her last name or phone number or where she lived… nothing.

It was the epitome of a one night stand. He stretched his arms up and linked his fingers behind his head, eyes still closed so he could replay their evening together like a movie. And damn if he didn't grow hard thinking about it.

He had nowhere to go that day, and it would be easy to just hole up there and laze about. But that wasn't his style. It was rare for him to not be active and busy. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and the bright sun in the clear sky made him squint. He was surprised he didn't wake sooner; normally he was up before the sunrise.

A chilly breeze blew in the open door to the deck. Robyn must've sat out there before she left. He swung his legs and sat up on the bed, running his fingers through his hair and giving his beard a scratch.

He could still smell her on the air and the scent of her in the sheets… on him. He looked at the pillow and reached out to pick up a long blonde hair. He held the curl in his hand, and it was fine. He couldn't feel it, but he could definitely remember how her strands felt tangled in his fingers last night. Part of him wanted to keep that hair, but wasn't that creepy? He put it back and rested his palm on the indentation of the pillow where her head had been, trying to figure out how he was feeling.

Feelings.

Something he avoided at the best of times. They wreaked havoc with your brain if you gave them much thought. He didn’t, and that’s why Beck was the better businessman and Fletch left him to it.

He stood and stretched. Naked, he walked out onto the deck, glancing to the cottages on either side of his. He was the only fool standing out in morning air. It felt good on his body. He closed his eyes and raised his face to the sun, and based on its angle, he figured it was about 8 o'clock. It was warm for this time of morning and time of year, hinting at an even warmer day.

A few minutes later, he padded back into the room and got in the shower. Reluctantly, he washed Robyn’s scent from his body, replacing it with a typical motel shampoo and soap aroma. He showered quickly, no point in wasting time under the hot water. He shook his head, rubbed the towel through his hair and beard, brushed his teeth and got dressed. He needed to find some food. There was a coffee maker in the room, but he never used them. The chance of them being grotty was high.

From the bedside table, he picked up his watch and saw the note leaning against the lamp. He looked at it while he snapped the watch around his wrist and then picked it up.

Seeing her words was like a punch in the gut. Probably it was best things had worked out the way they had. He had things to do, although he couldn’t think of any at the moment, and she obviously had things to do too. By the sound of it, she didn't need complications any more than he did.

Grabbing his keys and shoving his wallet in his pocket, he left the room, but Robyn was heavy on his mind. She’d left an impression on him, but she was gone and likely never to be seen again. A wave of sadness swept through him catching him off guard.

Damn feelings and emotions.

Maybe he'd go down to the marina; he remembered there was a restaurant there and probably be serving breakfast.

The wheels of his truck crunched over the gravel parking lot, and he pulled into a spot down from the diner. He chose this diner rather than the yacht club restaurant because it was more relaxed, less fussy, and based on his casual attire, he'd fit in a lot better. If the number of cars parked out front was any indication, the food was good and he’d be batting a thousand in the finding-good-food arena.

He swung his legs out of the truck, cautiously, because if he didn't, he could torque his leg which would only get it aching all over again. Pausing for a moment, he inhaled. Sea air, gelcoat, marine fuel, and bacon filled his nostrils. His stomach grumbled, and his heart was full. He was back in his element.

Once inside the diner, he felt right at home. He fit in perfectly, the aroma of breakfast food filled the room, and the scent of coffee made his mouth water. He needed coffee and nodded at the waitress who greeted him.

"Help yourself to any table," she told him and smiled.

He saw a booth on the far side by the window with a great view of the marina and boats. He tried to push the table so he had more room to slide onto the bench, but it wouldn’t move, likely screwed to the floor. He slid in and winced when a twinge sparked in his hip. "Damn."

He knew that was a sign of overcompensating. The last thing he needed was to fuck up his other leg. Fletch sighed and silently accepted the fact he really did need physiotherapy. His appointment was in two weeks; they couldn’t fit him sooner. That would be just two weeks before Christmas, and he hadn’t decided what he was going to do yet probably hang out and watch sports.

He found a comfortable position sitting on the wooden bench, leaned back, crossed his arms, and looked out the window. There were still a number of boats in the docks, as well as some upon their cradles stored for the winter. Not that there was much winter here and thankfully hurricane season was over, but with the way the weather was going these days, you never knew when something nasty could blow up. Especially after the last storm. It had been brutal.

He searched beyond the boats to find Intrepid and smiled when he found her. She was glorious in the morning sun. The perfect lady, tugging gently at her mooring, eager to get out on the sea, and oh how he wanted to feel her beneath his feet. Soon enough, he told himself. Soon enough.

"Coffee?" The waitress asked him as she put down a menu.

"Yes please." He reached for the menu.

“Our special today is shrimp and grits and your choice of side.” She turned over a mug and filled it.

“Sounds great. I'll have that, and I’ll also have a side of waffles and bacon, please.” He smiled at her, and she took the menu from him.

She lingered for the briefest moment before giving him a smile he knew was an invitation. “Sure thing, hon."

He watched her sashay away, the sway of her hips exaggerated. It did nothing for him, where it might have before. All it did was remind him of Robyn and last night. Lifting the mug, he took a long drink of the steaming, strong coffee. It was exactly what he needed, and he finished it quickly. A few moments later, the waitress returned with cutlery wrapped in napkin, a basket of biscuits, and filled up his mug.

"Thank you." He glanced at her and then out the window, not wanting to encourage her.

"Sure, hon, your breakfast won't be long."

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out. It was an email with forms attached he needed to fill out before his physio appointment. He groaned and grabbed a biscuit.

Fletch definitely wasn't looking forward to it. Having someone prod and bend and pull his body into unnatural positions was not his idea of fun. But the surgeon told him it was important, otherwise he would jeopardize the healing process, which could inhibit his movements and returning to full mobility, ultimately restricting activities aboard Intrepid. Which was more important to him than anything else. A bonus would be easing the aches and pains, and hopefully any future issues as he aged.

He bit into the biscuit and munched accepting if that's what he had to do, then that's what he had to do. The sooner he got back on Intrepid the better. As much as he hated to admit it, which he had avoided up until now, he knew his gait and balance was off. Something he needed when aboard, as well as just general living. Like getting into a restaurant booth.

It pissed him off, and he wished he’d never been dared to try a skateboard. Not being able to captain Intrepid was like a knife through his heart. He looked back down at his email. There was the one from the physiotherapy group, some spam, and one from Beck. He opened it. Normally they texted each other so an email was probably just minutes from a meeting to keep him in the loop while he’d been off.

Even though he was a full shareholder and co-owner, he left the running of the business up to Beck. He’d never wanted to be stuck in an office, go to meetings, and whatnot; he needed to be outside and not hemmed in by four walls.

Beck was way more suited to that world, his temperament matched it as well. He could be tough, almost ruthless, and that wasn’t in Fletch. He was a lover not a fighter. He smiled remembering when Beck told him that so many years ago when they first started out. During university, they’d created a startup, and then afterwards, they’d readily acknowledged their strengths – Beck with the business degree and Fletch with electrical engineering – and the timing was perfect to launch the business, which was now a multi-billion dollar enterprise.

It was only natural that Fletch gravitated to life on the ocean and captaining Intrepid . He was positive some of his ancestors had to be pirates or privateers. His love for the sea was unparalleled.

Regardless though, he always kept up to date with all business correspondence, and when he did have opinions he didn’t hesitate to voice them.

He scanned the minutes and saw a reply was requested, so that's what he did. With a simple word, ’read’. Nothing more was needed.

He grabbed another biscuit, this time slathering it in butter. Damn, these biscuits were amazing. He finished two more when the waitress brought his breakfast.

He had a hunger on and tucked in. The last thing he’d eaten was the fish and chips last night, which segued right into meeting Robyn. Food and water had been the last thing on his mind after meeting her. The food here was great, and he let his thoughts drift back to their night together while he ate.

If only he'd not passed out like a chump and gotten her contact details. He had a feeling regret was going to sit with him for quite a while.