Page 6 of Merry with a Captain

Are you okay?

Yes, I'm great. But can you come and get me?

Of course, where are you?

She dropped her a pin.

I'll be there in 10 minutes. It's not far at all.

I'll be waiting outside.

Robyn looked for a pad and pen. Finding one, she quickly wrote him a note.

FLETCH, I HAD A WONDERFUL TIME AND I’M SO GLAD THAT WE MET. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO LEAVE IN THE MORNING, AND IF I DIDN'T LEAVE NOW WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, I DON'T THINK I WOULD'VE BEEN ABLE TO OTHERWISE. XX

She put the note on the bedside table and resisted giving him a kiss goodbye. She quietly got dressed, took a last look at the man sleeping in the moonlight, and slipped out the door, closing it softly behind her.

3

Fletch 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 wheelsof 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 thescent 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.

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