Stranded with the Captain

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Stranded with the Captain Page 25

by Sharon Hartley


  “Does he know what happened?” she asked.

  “Not the whole story. I plan to get Spree shipshape before he sees her.”

  She seized on the excuse. “Is that why you want me along on this free week of sailing? To help you clean up the boat?”

  He tensed. “That’s not... I don’t expect you to help me clean up the boat. I thought we could have some fun.”

  She nodded. He wanted a week of fun, a fling, someone to play with or help while he tidied up Spree for the owner. Even knowing it was a horrible idea, she was tempted. Another glorious few days with Javi would be heaven, even if it meant she had to help him sanitize the head. And she really didn’t mind the work. She dealt with smelly orchids full of bacterial rot on a regular basis. No big deal.

  She’d finally met somebody she wanted to be with no matter how stressed she was, someone whose presence actually comforted her when she was rattled. She wanted far longer than a week.

  But there was no future for them. She’d always worry when he was on the job. There could come that time when he caught the bullet that ended his life. didn’t want to live with that constant fear. Plus, she wanted children and he didn’t.

  “Sorry,” she said. “But I can’t. I have a business to run.”

  He gave her a long, assessing look, his jaw tight. “Too bad.”

  “Yeah,” she murmured. “Too bad.”

  He started to say something, grabbed her forgotten beer, emptied it, crushed the can and threw it into the recycle container hard enough to make it bounce out again.

  She hid a smile. Javi was used to getting his own way.

  The sooner she got away from his strong gravitational pull, the better.

  After about fifteen minutes of silence, she wondered if he intended to ignore her until they arrived at the dock. Even if she wanted to stay with him on Spree, she couldn’t take another week’s vacation without checking on the status of her plants. Yeah, her dad was filling in, but Green Gully Orchids couldn’t run itself.

  Still, she didn’t want their time together to end on a sour note. She’d hoped to take away happy, if bittersweet, memories.

  * * *

  CAT CLOSED THE zipper on her duffel with a vicious yank and looked around her cabin for anything she’d missed, realizing with a pang that she’d never actually slept in this bunk.

  She sighed, thinking of all the places she did spend the night on this vacation, some of them more comfortable than others. What a wild, crazy ride she’d been on. But it was over. She sat on the bed. Really and truly over.

  The final two hours of the sail hadn’t been particularly enjoyable. She and Javi had only communicated with each other when necessary to sail the boat.

  But since she wouldn’t do his bidding, he apparently had no more use for her.

  Once they’d gotten Spree tied up in the slip, she’d hurried below to gather her belongings. A taxi was on its way to take her to the car rental office. There was nothing to be gained by delaying her departure any longer. So why was she still in this cabin?

  Because she didn’t know how to say goodbye to Javi. She didn’t want to say goodbye.

  He was banging around in the galley doing heaven knows what. She stood. Time to get the final farewell over with.

  Heaving the duffel onto her shoulder, she turned to find him standing in the doorway, his gaze intent on her.

  She swallowed, praying she could get through this without any tears.

  “Got everything?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  He nodded. “Your cab is here.”

  “Right,” she said.

  “Let me help you with that.”

  He reached out and took the weight of the duffel from her shoulder.

  “Thanks,” she said, and followed him up the stairs into the cockpit.

  He jumped from Spree’s deck, dropped her bag and then turned to help her, surprising her when he lifted her off the boat. Once her feet were on the dock, he wrapped his arms around her.

  She relaxed into his embrace and closed her eyes, breathing in the essence of him one last time. What was she supposed to say? Thanks? Have a good life? Please try not to get shot?

  “Bye,” she said, her voice a whisper. She looked into his dark, brooding eyes and tried to smile.

  He grabbed her hand and placed it over his heart. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “Me, either,” she admitted.

  “Then stay,” he said. “Let’s see where this leads.”

  She looked away. These crazy intense feelings would fade. For both of them.

  “I care about you, Cat.”

  Startled by his words, she met his gaze again. So Javi was having the same response to their adventure.

  “And I care about you,” she said, “but you know our feelings aren’t real. We’re reacting to what we went through on the island.”

  “I don’t know,” Javi said.

  “I’ve heard of this happening. Haven’t you?”

  He shook his head. “This doesn’t feel like that to me.”

  “You’ll see. We just need some uncomplicated time away from each other.”

  A car horn blared loudly at the end of the dock.

  He squeezed her hand. “You’re sure you can’t stay a few more days?”

  “Not a good idea.” Proud of herself for being able to speak, Cat reached for her bag. Javi grabbed the straps first and accompanied her to the taxi. He tossed her duffel into the open trunk, slammed it shut and then jerked open the back door of the taxi.

  Before she could slide inside, he pulled her close and kissed her. This wasn’t a sweet, gentle farewell, but a demanding possession of her mouth. The tears that she’d been fighting sprang to her eyes.

  He broke their kiss and placed his forehead against hers, breathing hard.

  The driver coughed loudly.

  “Give me a minute, man,” Javi barked, his hands gripping her shoulders, his gaze locked on hers. “Cat—”

  “Time is money, pal,” the driver yelled. “Ticktock.”

  She stepped away from him.

  Javi placed a business card in her hand and closed her fingers over the edges. She looked down and blinked. Numbers were hand scribbled, but she couldn’t read them through her tears.

  “Call me if you change your mind,” he said.

  She nodded and climbed into the taxi.

  Cat refused to look back at him as the cab accelerated away from the dock. She didn’t want to know if he watched her drive away or not.

  * * *

  “I THINK THAT covers it, Agent Rivas.”

  Javi resisted the urge to loosen his tie as Special Agent William Johnson, the SAC of the Miami FBI office, made a final note and closed the file on his desk. The three-hour debriefing over the events at Gun Cay was finally over.

  “Excellent work,” Agent Johnson said.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Johnson stood. So did Javi, and they shook hands.

  “How is your leg?” Johnson asked.

  “I’m ready for duty, sir.”

  Johnson smiled faintly. “Yes. Well, enjoy the rest of your leave.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Immediately on exiting the building, Javi slid the tie from around his neck. It’d been a while since he’d been forced to put one on. Damn thing nearly cut off the circulation to his brain during his meeting with Johnson.

  Javi slid into his vehicle, tossed the tie into the passenger seat and turned on his cell phone to check for messages.

  Disappointed, he sat back in the seat. Four texts from Marlin and no one else.

  It’d been a week, and he hadn’t heard from Cat. He’d given her his cell number, but to be sure he’d left it again on a v
oice mail. Twice.

  He eyed cars zooming over the I-75 overpass less than a mile away. He could jump on that interstate and arrive in Homestead in an hour. He was tempted. He’d found Green Gully Orchids online, and it was a detour of only an hour or so on the way back to Marathon.

  He needed to see her, to know she was okay. How was she handling the aftermath of their mishap with the pirates? Was she traumatized?

  Why hadn’t she returned his calls? Yeah, she was likely busy catching up from being on vacation. But no time for a phone call in seven days? Or was it six?

  He’d reached Joan and Debbie by phone. They were out of the hospital and claimed to be doing fine, as was Cat. They ought to know since they spoke to her daily. She’d somehow managed to find time to talk to both of them.

  So he knew secondhand she was okay. There was no real reason for him to make that detour other than purely to see her. But he wanted to see her.

  His phone vibrated in his hand.

  “Rivas,” he answered.

  “Where are you?” Marlin demanded. “I thought you’d be here by now.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  Javi forced his thoughts away from Cat as he drove to Marlin’s rehab center in Key Largo. Spree’s owner was recovering well, but had grown restless and more than a little cranky from being cooped up so long. His physicians had cleared him to make a short visit to Spree, and he was anxious to see his boat. Fortunately, Javi had managed to delay that until he’d completed the cleanup, but Marlin had grown suspicious and asked a lot of questions.

  Javi braked to a stop and exited his vehicle. He couldn’t delay it any longer. Today he’d explain why the boat had needed so much tender loving care after the trip to Bimini.

  Had Cat really thought he wanted her to stay with him for a week to help him clean the boat? Surely she didn’t think so little of him. Or maybe she did. Had he been a vacation booty call and then someone she needed to help save her friends? He dismissed that idea. That wasn’t his Irish.

  Since she’d driven away in that taxi, it felt like something was missing from his life, reminding him of the emptiness after Berto’s death. She’d filled that hole in his heart, even allowing him to finally accept that he couldn’t have prevented his brother’s murder.

  But that feeling was obviously one-sided. He had to face the fact that she hadn’t returned his calls because she didn’t want to talk to him. She didn’t miss him. Not the way he missed her.

  “It’s about damn time,” Marlin yelled over the television when Javi entered his room. Javi stared at his friend, shocked at his appearance.

  Marlin looked, well, old, a description Javi had never applied to Marlin before. He’d lost twenty pounds and his weathered skin appeared ashen instead of kissed by the sun. Someone had trimmed his customary long braided ponytail, and the pillow had forced his now-short salt-and-pepper hair up in comical spikes. Like really bad helmet hair.

  “Sorry, man,” Javi said. “The debrief took longer than I imagined.”

  Marlin muted the soap opera he’d been watching. “Yeah? Maybe you’d better explain exactly why you needed a fricking debrief after the last charter.”

  Javi sat in a bedside chair, and scooted it closer to Marlin. “How are you feeling?”

  “Don’t listen to my quack doctors. I’m fit as a fiddle. Talk.”

  “First let me assure you Spree is fine,” Javi said. “You’ll see that for yourself tomorrow.”

  “What I’m waiting to find out is why in thunder she wouldn’t be fine.”

  As he had earlier that morning, Javi described the takeover of Spree. And again the telling took far less time than the actual events. Marlin took the story well, although his eyes widened on learning the propeller had been removed. He remained silent except for a horrified gasp over the incoming flare that had landed on Spree’s deck.

  “Everything has been repaired,” Javi said, scrutinizing his friend for signs of distress.

  Perhaps he should have left some of the details out. This wasn’t an official Bureau conference, after all. What if the damage to Marlin’s heart had been too severe to withstand the shock of modern-day pirates commandeering his beloved home and livelihood?

  “Spree is now safely back in her home slip waiting for you.”

  Marlin shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

  “You okay, man?”

  He sighed. “How are the women who were held hostage?”

  “Out of the hospital and insisting they’re doing well.”

  “You’ve talked to them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. How about the other one? How is she doing?”

  “I haven’t managed to get ahold of her yet.”

  Marlin narrowed his eyes. “You’re leaving something out about her.”

  Javi blinked. The old man would have been a good detective. He’d been careful in his recitation to omit any mention of his relationship with Cat, but somehow Marlin had sniffed it out.

  “Spill, Javi. What’s up with...what was the other one’s name?”

  “Cat Sidran.”

  “Is she gonna sue me?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You need to talk to her, smooth things over.”

  Javi shifted in his seat. “It appears she doesn’t want to talk to me.”

  Marlin’s eyes grew wider in what Javi knew was understanding.

  “Jeez Louise. You bedded a charterer, didn’t you? I thought I taught you better than that.”

  “Give me a break, Marlin. The circumstances were highly unusual.”

  Marlin snorted. “You thought you might bite it and wanted to die a happy man?”

  “Something like that.”

  “No,” Marlin said, gawking at him with an air of wonder. “There’s more to it than that.”

  Javi looked out the small window, the only one in Marlin’s room. No wonder the guy was bad-tempered. He was about to get claustrophobic himself.

  “Don’t worry about her,” Javi said.

  “You like this woman,” Marlin said, a grin splitting his face. “Hell, you’re in love with her.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I met her two weeks ago,” Javi said.

  “That don’t matter when it’s true love,” Marlin said.

  “How would you know anything about true love?” Javi demanded. This was ridiculous. He rose and paced. “I’ve never known you to last with a woman more than a week.”

  Marlin’s face sobered. “That’s where you’re wrong, Javi.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I was in love. Once.”

  “When?” Javi scoffed.

  “Your parents knew her, liked her, too.” Marlin sighed. “Doris. I made the biggest mistake of my life when I let her get away,” Marlin said. “I haven’t seen her in twenty years.”

  “What happened?” Javi returned to his seat. Marlin had been a nomad his entire life, sailing from one port to another. He’d probably still be cruising the world if not for his health.

  “Oh, a bunch of shit happened,” Marlin said. “But basically I was too dumb to admit I loved her.”

  “Where is Doris now?” Javi asked.

  Marlin didn’t open his eyes. “France. Married, with three kids. Two boys and a girl. The girl is autistic.”

  Javi eyed Marlin in surprise. He knew all that after twenty years? This was a side to his old friend he’d never seen.

  Marlin opened his eyes and glared at Javi. “If this woman is the right one for you, Javi, tell her. Don’t make the same mistake I did.”

  “You don’t understand.” Javi shrugged. “She blew me off.”

  “So what? If she’s worth it, pursue her. The right woman doesn’t fall off every coconut tree. Believe me, I know.” Marlin tur
ned his head away. “Now get out of here. I need to rest.”

  Javi stood. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at ten to go see Spree.”

  “No,” Marlin said. “I can wait another day. Find this woman and talk to her.”

  * * *

  CAT PULLED INTO Joan’s Coral Gables driveway and parked behind Deb’s Toyota. She turned off the engine and took a deep breath. She’d put off this get-together for too long. She wanted to see firsthand how her friends were faring.

  What she didn’t want was to relive what had happened on Spree.

  She didn’t want to think about Javi. She was doing fine without him. Talking about him—and how could they not discuss him today?—would only dredge up the pain of their separation, the last thing she needed.

  And her friends would instantly realize how she felt about him. She wouldn’t be able to hide it from them.

  Cat exited her SUV and moved toward Joan’s front door. Mentally repeating her mantra about how she’d defeated pirates, Cat lifted her chin and rang the doorbell. You can do this.

  When Joan answered, Cat relaxed. Her old friend looked as she always had, which was reassuring. At least there were no lasting physical scars from the ordeal.

  Joan gave Cat a quick hug. Pulling back, she said, “Oh, you brought orange juice.” She gave Cat a puzzled look.

  “Fresh squeezed.” Cat handed over the jug. “I thought we’d need something to drink.”

  “Deb brought champagne. Come on in. We’re on the back porch.”

  “Champagne?”

  “She’s celebrating.”

  Wondering what they were celebrating, Cat followed Joan to the rear of her home. “How is Deb?”

  “She’s good, believe it or not,” Joan answered over her shoulder.

  “And you?”

  Joan paused at the doorway. “I’m doing better each day. How about you?”

  “The same,” Cat answered, which wasn’t exactly true.

  “Because we’re survivors.” Pumping her fist, Debbie stood when Cat stepped onto a lovely screened-in porch shaded by huge oak trees in Joan’s backyard. White wicker furniture invited visitors to sit and rest. Overhead a ceiling fan circulated the air.

 

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