A Sailor's Second Chance

by Gail Chianese

  She did, however, have a private pool at her disposal.

  As quiet as a mouse, Colette changed into her swimsuit, and robe, and grabbed an oversize towel from the Moroccan inspired bathroom. She’d have to make time this week to enjoy the Jacuzzi, but right now her body needed to burn some calories or she’d never rest.

  A quick glace, confirmed Casey was fast asleep.

  Colette stole a few minutes to study his face. Sure she saw him practically every day at work, but there, he was on the go, or scowling at her. The times they were forced into the same room for any length of time together, Casey would sit as far away as possible, as if she had cooties or worse. His brows and mouth were drawn tight. Didn’t he ever relax anymore?

  But she knew the answer. He did, when she wasn’t around. She’d seen him with other members of the command, laughing and joking and smiling. It was almost as if he knew she was standing there looking at him. With a soft sigh, she slipped out through the French doors. She flipped a switch and soft lights illuminated the infinity pool. Not that she wanted to wake up the neighbors—or Casey—but this was Florida and it was best to make sure she was the only occupant of the pool.

  Colette inched forward until the water lapped at her toes, testing it out. Not bad considering it was only May, but it had hit mid 80’s that day and was still sitting in the high 60’s. Slipping the plush robe off that the resort provided, she tossed it over her shoulder to the chaise, and walked further in, relishing the cool water against her overheated skin. When she was waist deep, Colette took a deep breath and dove. Slicing through the water, she completed lap after lap.

  While her body burned up excessive energy, her mind swirled around the night’s events.

  Casey…in her vacation villa.

  She couldn’t believe her eyes when he turned around in the kitchen.

  Holy. Freaking. Cow.

  Thank goodness the old ticker was strong, or she’d been on her way to the ER with heart failure. Of course, she should have called security when she’d heard the fridge door open, not confront her intruder with a hair dryer.

  That was just plain stupid; something she tried hard not to be. But she’d convinced herself it was the AC or the building settling, not really a person. The real issue, because she hadn’t been in any danger, was what was going on? Why was Casey even there?

  She’d been trying to talk to him for weeks, really months as she’d reached out to him before he’d reported in. The minute she’d heard he was transferring to the command she worked for, she had to text him. They hadn’t kept in touch after the divorce, but even with over three hundred thousands Navy personal, it was a small world. Word got around. Still, she hadn’t expected Casey to pick Pensacola ever again, so it seemed only fair that she warn him she was back and they’d be working together. She couldn’t afford to quit her job and he couldn’t request a transfer, so they needed to get along.

  Wrong.

  In Casey’s opinion, they just needed to ignore each other, which begged the question: why was he not only in Mimosa Key, but in her freaking villa?

  Limbs and body exhausted she waded out of the pool and flopped on the chaise lounge made for two. While her body had burnt up the excess energy, her mind refused to quiet down. Was the universe throwing her a bone? Or messing with her mind…and heart?

  She may have been the one to leave the marriage, but she’d never stopped loving Casey Thomas.

  Sometimes love wasn’t enough and it was hard to love a man who was never around. Not that it was all Casey’s fault or even the long deployments. They just weren’t suited. He’d forgotten about her the minute his boots boarded the plane. Maybe if she hadn’t been so independent? If she hadn’t tried to be so strong?

  If, if, if. It was a game that could drive a good person mad.

  Stars twinkled overhead. She searched for the constellation, Aries, her gift and curse in life. Why couldn’t she have been born under whatever sign produced meek, dependent women? Oh yeah, because they stopped making those types of heroines a hundred years or so ago. The thought alone gave her hives. She gave up searching—for the constellation and maybe more. She was fine on her own, had been for more years than she could remember.

  A faint click caught her attention as Casey shut the French doors behind him when he stepped outside. Colette refused to look at him, refused to imagine sliding his t-shirt over his taunt abs and the two of them slipping into the warm water together. She refused to remember how good it had been between them, how his body felt pressed up against hers, or how much she still loved him.

  “You shouldn’t be out here alone at night. It’s not safe.” Casey’s voice caressed her skin like silk.

  “The gate’s locked from inside and I doubt anyone could scale the walls without us hearing.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of people. Gators can climb a wall, Colette. You know that.”

  “It’s why I turned on the pool lights.” She didn’t really mind his concern, as a Master-at-Arms in the Navy safety was practically in his DNA. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  He chuckled and rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s alright. Doesn’t take much these days.”

  She lifted herself up on her elbows and met his dark gaze before he turned away. He strolled around the perimeter of the private yard, shoulders tense, body alert, always on the lookout for danger.

  At least that hadn’t changed over the years.

  She waited until he dropped into the chair next to the bistro table. “PTSD?”

  “Nah. Just stuff on my mind.”

  “Was it…” she hesitated, not sure if she’d be dredging up memories better left alone or not, but she had to know. “Was it bad over there…in Afghanistan?“

  His gaze snapped to hers. “In ways, it was worse than I ever imagined and at the same time, not as bad as I expected. I came home in one piece, didn’t lose any of my team and I sleep most nights.”

  “Just not well.”

  He ignored her comment and dropped his head back to stare at the night sky. They sat there in companionable silence, both pretending the other wasn’t there and everything was normal, except it wasn’t. During their marriage, or rather the short time they had together, they’d spent many nights snuggled up stargazing.

  “I tried to find Aries,” she said.

  “You’d have better luck looking in the winter. If you look there,” he pointed to her left, “you can see the Big Dipper.”

  She followed his directions and spotted the constellation. At her nod, he continued. “Now draw a line from the two stars that make up the cup portion to that star over there. That’s Polaris, or the North Star and the tip of the handle to the Little Dipper.”

  Aw, there the little guy was. “What else do you see?”

  Their eyes met, locked, heated and he looked away.

  “There’s Thuban in the middle of the two. Off to the right is Cassiopeia, with Perseus below and then over to the left of that one, is Gemini.”

  “I think of you, of us, every time I look at the night sky,” she whispered.

  His gaze snapped back to her. “We can’t do this, Colette.”

  ~*~

  “Do what?” her voice filled with heat and anger. “Talk like two adults? Acknowledge that we have a past, that once upon a time I meant something to you?”

  There was no once about his feelings when it came to Colette. He’d fallen madly in love with her the moment she’d poured a drink in his lap. A simple accident by the worst waitress he’d ever met. The sweetest too. Sassy. Fierce. The blush that had stolen over her cheeks as she’d mopped his lap, had stolen his heart.

  He jumped to his feet, and met her halfway. “Meant something to me? You were my flipping wife. We made promises to each other like sticking together through the good times and bad, through sickness and health. But none of that mattered, did it?”

  She’d hightailed it out of there as soon as things had gotten…not bad, but hard and lonely, he acknowledged. Or maybe sh
e’d gotten a better offer? He’d heard the rumors. Hadn’t confirmed or disproved them. What was the point? She didn’t want to be married to him, had left and filed for divorce.

  She lowered her chin; tears shimmered in her eyes. “It wasn’t like that, Casey.”

  “Right.” He crossed his arms; ready for the B.S. “You stuck around for those moments. At least the good ones.”

  Her chin jutted out as fire flashed through her tears. Aw, there was his girl.

  “It wasn’t like that, and if you think it was easy, you’re wrong. Can’t we talk about this, clear the air between us?”

  “I didn’t come out here to rehash the past,” he said.

  “Why did you come out here?” She tossed up her hands before planting them on her luscious hips. “Why are you even here? And in my villa?”

  “You! That’s why. If you hadn’t gone swimming in the middle of the night, I’d be asleep right now instead of worrying about you. If not for you, I wouldn’t have been ordered to take leave either. And you’re in my villa.”

  He’d won the damn room through a command function and he’d let one of the civilian admin assistants book the room for him. It didn’t take much to add two and two together to come up with a set-up. But how to prove it and how to get his ex-wife out of his room? Hell, he should just give it to her. He could leave and head up to Jacksonville instead and visit his buddy Tony. Play some poker, drink a few beers and…crap.

  That wouldn’t work. He’d forgotten Tony had recently started seeing someone. Doubt if the new person would be happy giving up her week for a guy’s retreat.

  “Casey, talk to me, please?” Colette reached out to lay a hand against his chest.

  He stepped back. “Get some sleep. We’ll deal with the room situation in the morning.” Even to his own ears, his voice was cold, and unbending.

  “Fine.” She stopped at the French doors. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you when I left. Actually, I didn’t even think you’d notice.”

  Her words cut straight to the heart. He held himself in check until he heard the door click and then counted to ten, when that didn’t work he lashed out sending one of the bistro chairs to the pool edge.

  “Great,” he muttered, wide-awake. He yanked his t-shirt over his head and tossed it on the chaise. He tilted his head one way and then the other, working out the tension. The back of his neck prickled in warning. He froze. That sixth sense had saved his ass several times in the sandbox. His gaze scanned the private yard, the pool and came to rest on the master bedroom window as the curtain fell back.

  If he’d still been in the sandbox, he’d be on the lookout for unfriendlies. As it was, he wasn’t sure what to classify his ex-wife. And he wasn’t sure what the hell kind of game she was up to either. At least, over there he knew the score, knew who his enemies were and how to watch his back. Right now, he didn’t know which end was up. But that was Colette, always spinning him up.

  Two could play that game.

  He moved the chair he’d knocked back, so it was out of the way, and out of her view of the pool.

  With a wicked grin he tugged his shorts down leaving him au natural.

  Slowly he walked into the pool, taking a quick scan of the yard for any critters that may have slipped in, before he dove in deep. As he surfaced and turned at the far end of the pool, he saw the curtains fall back again.

  At least he wouldn’t be the only one tossing and turning that night.

  Some where around lap thirty he’d lost track as he let his body and mind fall into the steady rhythm. Stoke. Stroke. Breathe. Clear your mind, focus, or die. His recruit commander pounded those words into their brains during boot camp. Had probably saved his life a time or two.

  Every good Sailor, Solider, Marine—hell, even the Airmen—knew when you went out on patrol, you kept your mind on the mission. To lose focus could cost someone their life, and it probably wouldn’t be you.

  Survivor’s guilt. PTSD. TBI. All shit that came with the job. He didn’t have control over everything, but he could make sure he did his duty and walked away knowing that if he’d lost a man, it wasn’t because his head hadn’t been in the game.

  He’d learned to compartmentalize.

  Maybe too well.

  “I didn’t even think you’d notice.”

  Her words haunted him as he pulled himself up on the side of the pool. How in the hell would he not notice his wife had left him? Being served divorce papers on the tarmac is pretty damn noticeable. And in case he’d thought that was a joke or something, he’d walked into their apartment to find not a trace of her except her wedding ring on the top of his nightstand.

  No note.

  No good-bye.

  Not even a fuck you.

  Her parting comment just then was the first hint of an excuse that he’d had and looking back… He could see why she’d think so little of him. He’d kissed her good-bye, boarded the plane and put her in a box. He’d compartmentalized that part of his life. He’d put Colette and their life together in a flipping box and tucked it safely in the back of his mind. He had focused on the mission. He’d focused on his men and no one died.

  But there were some things worse than dying.

  Or so it seemed at the time.

  He dropped his head into his hands. Damn her for bringing it all back. He’d put it all behind him and moved on, or at least, he’d thought he had.

  Some of that self-righteous anger he’d carried around for the past ten years dissipated and he swore, because he owed her an apology, too.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning Casey placed his hands on the reception desk and bit back his frustration. After his dip in the pool, he’d spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling and trying not to think about a naked Colette in the next room. The pretty, strawberry blonde with the wild curls flashed him a worried smile.

  “I’m sure we can get this straightened out, Mr. Thomas,” said Lacey Walker. Her fingers flew across the keyboard. “This is so strange. We only have one reservation for a C. Thomas. Can I see your confirmation number again, please?”

  “Sure.” He slid the email print out across the desk. Next time he’d make his own reservation.

  She bit down on her lip, looking back and forth from the paper to the computer. Troubled eyes met his gaze. “I’m not really sure what happened. Your confirmation number matches our records. Could Mrs. Thomas’s reservation have been under a different name?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. Her maiden name is Kersch.”

  “No, I’m sorry. Nothing for that name either. I do see there was a change made on your reservation though, on Tuesday.”

  “What change? I didn’t make any changes.” He definitely didn’t remember ordering an ex-wife.

  “Hmm, I don’t see any actual changes other than we e-mailed the confirmation.” She rattled off an address so similar to his, but with one important difference.

  “That’s my ex-wife, Colette’s, e-mail address.”

  She bit down on her lip again—never a good sign—and clicked away on the computer keyboard. Finally she stepped away from the computer and looked up at him with apologetic eyes.

  “I’m very embarrassed, Mr. Thomas, nothing like this has ever happened before. We pride ourselves on excellence here at Casa Blanca Resort. We did have a new person on duty Tuesday and my only guess is that she got confused by the duplicate names.”

  Casey let out a frustrated breath and smiled. “It’s okay, everyone makes mistakes. Can you move me into another villa?” He’d just hang out in his private backyard and avoid Colette. Then both of them could enjoy their vacation.

  “I’m afraid not. We’re all booked this week.”

  “Not a problem. It doesn’t have to be a villa. A room would be fine.”

  She fidgeted and his gut sunk.

  “Let’s try this. Is there another hotel on the island?”

  She grimaced. “There is the Four-Way Motel. Let me
give them a call and see if they have a room?”

  He stepped aside to let her make the call and stopped outside the doors to Junonia. Colette sat at a table for two overlooking the beach. She was smiling at a man in a chef’s jacket. She was beautiful.

  He smiled at the thought and her reaction. She hated when people complimented her looks. She’d say, “Its genetics, Casey. Nothing I did.” But she was wrong. It was more than the shape and size of her nose, or the line of her jaw, or crystal blue eyes, all of which made up a pretty picture. It was the way she focused her full attention on the person she was talking with. It was her easy, musical laugh when something struck her funny. It was the compassionate way she treated animals, children and strangers as if each were a friend or family member.

  Not that she was a saint. He chuckled. Her fiery, passionate, and stubborn nature could push even Mother Theresa to the edge, especially if Colette thought she were in the right. Walking away last night, without much of a fight had surprised Casey. He’d expected one of their heated exchanges, had almost looked forward to the argument. And then she had walked away.

  Again.

  Lacey hung up the phone and looked his way, so he headed back to the reception desk with little hope left in him. She shook her head and explained that the motel was undergoing some renovations and therefore, not available.

  “I’ve also check several hotels in Naples, and everything is sold out. There’s a marathon this week, plus a couple of conferences. If you’d like to have breakfast, on us, I’ll see if I can find a B&B in Naples for you,” Lacey said.

  He thanked the owner, surprised she would go to such lengths and joined Colette at the table.

  “Did you get it all straightened out?” Colette asked while blowing on her steaming, hot coffee.

  He signaled to the waiter for his own cup. “Sort of.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “They gave you my villa.” He nodded and waited for the waiter to take their orders and fill his coffee cup before delivering the next blow. “And there’s no more room at the inn or on the island, or nearby for that matter.”