Page 7 of Merry with a Captain

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 findIntrepidand 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 aboardIntrepid.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 onIntrepidthe 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 captainIntrepidwas 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 captainingIntrepid. 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.

4

Anorthern girl, Robyn had always wanted to visit Savannah. So, when this temporary management position opened up, she grabbed it. It wasn't for long, filling in while the employee went on a sabbatical. It was excellent experience moving into the management level, even though she preferred to be hands on.

Robyn had been so excited with the move to Savannah, and had planned everything she wanted to see and do while here. After that, she would either go back to Love Beach or to another location, possibly closer to home in Vermont. She missed her family.

It was exciting times with opportunities presenting themselves to her. But now her enthusiasm for this new adventure was waning, and all because of the night she spent with Fletch.

It wasn’t like her to allow outside influences to alter her plans. She’d been steadfast on her journey and eventually the plan was to open up her own clinic. Her determination to live her own life was strong. Fiercely independent Robyn, that’s who she was.

She liked how she could walk from the clinic to her apartment and while doing so thought about Fletch. A week had passed, and she still couldn't get him out of her head. Her body remembered him oh so well, and a night didn’t go by without him haunting her dreams in a wonderful hot and steamy way. Had she done the right thing by just leaving with only a note and not giving him her number? They didn't have contact details, and at the time, they were so wrapped up in eachother it hadn’t been important. She regretted it now.

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