Page 2 of Merry with a Captain

"Thank you," he said to her.

It was the biggest plate of fish and chips he'd ever seen. A massive piece of fish sat on top a pile of fries. They weren't skimpy with portions. There were two pots of tartar sauce with plastic lids, a healthy size bowl of coleslaw,anda plate of fresh bread and butter. He flipped one of the lids off, took a fry and dunked it. Popping it into his mouth, he nodded his approval; homemade, excellent, and tangy. Just as he liked it.

He broke off the end of the crispy piece of fish and dragged it through the sauce. The fish was fresh today, he could tell. The old boy was right, this place may not look like much, but the food was good.

There were no Christmas carols being played on the ancient jukebox, and good old country music filled the bar, drifting out on the deck. He looked into the open doorway and saw some people had gotten up to dance. He liked seeing people enjoy themselves. More had arrived and the place was busy.

He watched the crowd, finished his beer and food. Just as he was about to stand up, a woman passed the doorway that caught his attention. She was tall, dressed in jeans and a jean jacket, and her curly hair was so blonde it was almost white. It reminded him of that singer in that country music band.

He shivered when the breeze blew off the sea, so he picked up his plate, and carried it inside. He put them on the bar near the entrance to the kitchen, and asked for his check.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, and when they had, he looked around. It shouldn't be hard to see her with her blonde hair. He gazed through the crowd of dancers, and saw her on the far side of the room. He couldn’t tell if she was with someone. If she wasn't, he’d definitely go and say hi. He paid his bill and leaned on the bar to ease his leg.

The music stopped and people went to their seats, leaving him a clear view of her across the room. She wasn’t with a guy. She laughed with her friends, having fun, and margarita glasses, both empty and full, scattered across the table along with a big plate of nachos. He smiled; it looked like a girls’ night out.

Fletch barely noticed the other women she was with, he only saw her. And as if she felt his gaze, she turned and looked at him. He was surprised, but he smiled.

She returned it, which he took as an indicator to approach.

He walked over doing his best to not limp, and she seemed not to notice which bolstered him. He’d ask her to dance if another song came on.

His step faltered when she got up and walked toward him. They met halfway.

"Hi," she said when they were a few steps apart.

"Hi yourself," he replied with a smile. “Would you like to dance?"

She nodded, her curls bouncing, and he was enchanted. She had the most beautiful blue eyes he’d ever seen. Turquoise, ringed with a darker sea blue that would rival any tropical lagoon.

"I'd love to, but there's no music." She tilted her head and gave him a sassy look. Just like that, he was smitten.

"Well there's a couple of ways we can remedy that. We can pick a song or get to know each other over a drink. You choose." He watched her contemplate the choices, a smile on her face.

"I choose drinks.” Her smile lit up her whole face, and her eyes danced, vibrant against her deep tan. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and was momentarily lost for words.

"Okay, then, let's go find somewhere to sit,” she suggested.

“Ah yes,” was all he could manage.Snap out of it buddy!

She hooked her arm through his and led him to an empty booth by the previously open overhead door that had been closed, likely because of the chill.

Robyn had noticedhim long before he noticed her. Her body came alive when she saw him. He wasn't her normal type, what with his longer hair and beard. It was difficult to tell his age, because he didn’t look young, nor did he look older. She would guess late thirties, and if so, he wasn’t much older than herself.

He’d carried his beer outside, and she was mesmerized by the way he moved with almost a rolling gait, and his body radiated an energy when he walked. As if the air around him whispered to his will. Her reaction to him was so powerful her breath caught in her chest.

She’d fisted her hands, willing herself not to leap up and run outside, and had stayed put with her friends… for the moment.

A short while later, her friends were all abuzz.

"What are we whispering about?" she asked, resting her elbows on the table.

"That dude over at the bar. I've never seen him around here before."

"Neither have I," another chimed in.

“He’s one pretty hot looking guy. And look, he even brought his plate in from outside. Oooh.”

Robyn’s friend watched him with big puppy dog eyes, her chin resting in her palm.

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