A Sailor's Second Chance

by Gail Chianese

  Her brows drew down, and she scooted her chair back. “I’ll go pack. Give me fifteen minutes and the villa will be yours.”

  He reached out to stop her. “Where are you going?”

  “To pack. You just said it was your villa.” Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink, but it was the way she refused to meet his eyes that did him in.

  “And did you hear the part about the place being sold out? You said last night you didn’t drive down, so what are you going to do?”

  “Change my return flight and go home. I can enjoy the beach in Pensacola just as much as here, and well while not in the same category, Dominos does deliver. It’ll be a staycation.”

  Why couldn’t she be a bitch about the whole thing and refuse to give up the room? It’d make the whole thing—hating her—so much easier.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. The airlines will charge you twice as much to change the flight as the original ticket cost. After breakfast, I’ll leave. I’ve got my truck. I’ll have a staycation, whatever that is, or stop somewhere along the way.”

  A half-smile graced her face as she scooted her chair back in. “Always the hero, Casey.”

  “I’m trying to be a gentleman,” he ground out through gritted teeth.

  She leaned forward. “Fine. Be the bigger person, but that isn’t going to fix anything. I came here to figure out what to do about us.”

  “What about us? There is no us and that was your choice.”

  “Forget it.” She threw her napkin down and was out the door.

  Casey sat there, enjoying the peace and the view for all of thirty seconds before his conscience got the best of him. He stopped long enough to tell the waiter to cancel the order and bill the room. He caught up with her on the beach headed toward the villa.

  He reached for her hand and tugged for her to stop. She did, but refused to look at him. A sure sign of one of two things: She was either crying or trying not to kill him.

  Was it wrong to hope for the second option?

  “Colette, wait up. I’m trying to do the right thing here. Get out of your way and leave you alone, but I feel like everything I do is the wrong move.” He should just walk away, get in his truck and head north. He shouldn’t give a damn what his ex-wife wanted from him, but he couldn’t help it—he did. “Help me out. You wanted me out of your life. You left me. I’m trying to give you what you wanted. Throw me a bone?”

  She swiped a hand across her cheeks, and bent down to remove her sandals before facing him. “It doesn’t matter what I want, Casey. You’re going to do whatever it is that you want or feel is the right thing to do. So just do it already. Leave.”

  He stepped away, blew out a hard breath and tried to make sense of the conversation. Why was he even bothering? Oh yeah, because he’d been ordered to fix the mess, cut the tension between the two of them by his CO.

  Turning back around he flinched at the tears, hated that he’d put them there. “I’m listening.”

  ~*~

  For a moment as she sat at the little table for two, she’d had a glimmer of hope that the two of them could finally talk. Maybe begin to heal.

  But she’d been wrong. He couldn’t wait to get away from her. Not that she had anyone to blame but herself. She’d handled the end of their marriage all wrong. Barely more than a kid—and a scared, angry one at that—she took the easy way out and walked. Back then all she wanted was for Casey to listen to her, really listen and talk to her. She’d wanted him to come after her, to fight for their life together, but instead he let her walk away.

  Now he was listening and she didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know where to begin.

  Casey threw up his hands and spun way from her. He took off at a fast clip toward their villa, leaving her standing alone.

  She had about three seconds to decide what to do: stay and let him leave, or go after him, unless she wanted to be running after him, which reeked of desperation. A few seconds more wouldn’t hurt; giving him some space might actually help both of them. She dropped down to the sand. Some vacation this was turning out to being.

  An older couple walked along the shoreline, hand-in-hand and waved. A couple of families played in the sand, filling buckets with water and creating masterpieces. As Spring Break was long gone, but summer hadn’t officially arrived the place wasn’t packed, or rather the beach wasn’t. The chef, Ian with the lovely British accent and the bad boy good looks, mentioned they had several formal events going on that week. She should be the one to leave. It was his villa, and at that moment the last place she wanted to be was surrounded by a bunch of lovebirds.

  She grabbed a handful of sand and threw it. “There goes my spa day.”

  With her mind made up, she picked up her shoes and jogged to the villa so she could catch Casey before he left.

  The front door of the villa flew open as she reached for the doorknob. Casey stood glaring down at her with his duffle bag tossed over his shoulder.

  “Casey, can you wait just a minute?” She put her hand on his chest and pushed him back into the cool living room. “Look, I appreciate your grand gesture, but it’s not right nor is it going to help.”

  He looked skyward like he was counting to ten. “How is my leaving not going to help?”

  She sat down on the edge of the soft leather chair. “The CO ordered you to take some time off this week, right?” At his nod, she went on. “Because of the tension between us, right?”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I’m the CO’s admin, remember? The doors are pretty thin and I overheard they two of you talking. I figured it wouldn’t hurt for me to take some time off too and get my head on straight. I didn’t know you were coming here. This was Kibble’s idea and his treat.”

  “Of course it was. I’m surprised he’s not here with you.”

  What? She didn’t understand why he’d even expect Kibble to join her. “Whatever. What I’m getting at, is if you leave, like this, we won’t have resolved anything. Next week when we both return, the tension will still be there.”

  He dropped his duffle and crossed his arms. “What are you suggesting? Forgive and forget? Okay, done.”

  Men! Would it kill them to discuss how they felt about anything? “That’s it? I was kind of hoping we could talk about what happened between us.”

  “We gave it a go and it didn’t work. That’s all in the past now, although I admit it was a shock seeing you again, but I’m fine. Next week we’ll be tension free.”

  Ouch. He made it sound like they’d tried to learn to ski and failed. No big, its not like it was something as important as marriage or promising to love each other until forever. Oh wait. It was. She held back the laugh and the tears and pushed up off the chair.

  “Great. Glad we got that settled.” She pointed toward the bedroom door. “Give me a minute and I’ll gather up my stuff and get out of your way.”

  Before she could step forward, he scooped up his duffle and tossed it back over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’ve already found another place to stay for the week. You keep the villa and enjoy.”

  The tears came as soon as the door shut behind him. She didn’t know what she’d hope to accomplish, but hearing their marriage meant so little to Casey, wasn’t it. Yes, she had been the one to leave, but it hadn’t been easy or done without a backward glance. Thinking back, maybe it shouldn’t surprise her, after all, he hadn’t really been there. And no, she didn’t mean physically, although that was true but not his fault. No, looking back, from the moment he left on deployment he’d checked out of their marriage.

  At first, there had been weekly phone calls. Stolen moments of hearing his voice, where her heart wept with joy. They hadn’t lasted more than three, maybe five minutes, just enough time to assure him all was fine at home, profess their love and how much they missed each other. She’d glossed over the lack of emotion from his end, or that half the time he’d be responding to someone else’s questions as part of the job.


  Then the calls spaced out. Then they stopped and text message replaced his voice in her ear. Then those too spaced out. She’d written it all off as he was on patrol, or lack of Internet.

  The final straw had come from a medical scare. She’d called and texted, telling him she needed to speak with him, that it was urgent. Finally, she’d broken down and reached out the Navy to help her reach him. When he did call, he’d been short, distracted and brushed her concerns away.

  Thankfully, he’d been right and the scare turned out to be nothing, but still they didn’t really know. She’d realized sitting in the doctor’s office as they pulled all the little wires off stuck to her scalp, that she may have been married but in reality she was alone.

  She’d been alone ever since and for the most part, it suited her. There was no sharing the bathroom, or dirty clothes dropped next to the hamper. She got to watch what she wanted on TV. No more silly game shows. If she didn’t feel like taking a shower on the weekend, and doing her hair and make-up, no one complained. Not that Casey really did, but she’d always felt like she needed to for him.

  There were a lot of benefits to being alone.

  And when things got lonely, she had Kibble to cheer her up. And she dated. It’s not like she turned into a nun. But the truth was, she missed Casey and their life before he deployed. She missed the man she married and those sleepy Sunday mornings curled up on the couch together. She missed stolen kisses while cooking dinner together, and yes, fighting over the covers that led to other things.

  She missed the laughter and the way he made her feel like the most important person in the world.

  But all of that was before. He changed when he deployed. It happened to many. Maybe she had hoped they could go back to the beginning and try again. But that was just being silly.

  No, it was better this way. Better that she was alone.

  Chapter Four

  Women! If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never understand how their heads or hearts worked. Hell, he didn’t understand his own and he had the inside track. Try to do the right thing and get attitude in return. Try to give the woman what she asks for—and more attitude. He could understand if he’d been some dirtbag of a husband who had dumped her or left her for another woman. But she’d been the one to put on her walking shoes, not him, and he’d been faithful.

  It had taken him two years to even go on a date after the divorce. There had been one woman, a couple of years back, that he thought might be the one. That was until she’d met a buddy of his and the sparks flew. He didn’t blame either of them and as far as he knew they were still happily married with a rugrat or two.

  The truth was he just hadn’t met anyone who turned him upside down and inside out like Colette. Didn’t matter that she’d left him without an explanation, his heart still beat for her and her alone. It was a good thing his head was the one in charge.

  Gravel crunched under his feet as he made the way across the parking lot. The resort wasn’t his usual haunt, upscale and geared more toward couples, but, hey, it had been free. He had no idea where he was headed from here. Just away.

  Away from Colette and the turmoil she brought.

  He opened the driver’s door of his truck and tossed his duffle on the bench seat. He slid in, hit the ignition button and…click, click, click.

  Casey beat his head against the headrest, letting every swear word he knew loose. The truck had a new battery. He checked the switches and the lights were off. He knew the basics of auto mechanics, and his gut warned that the day was about to get a lot worse.

  “Don’t let Poppy catch you swearing.” The polished British accent didn’t go with the man Casey turned to face. Big, tattooed, a little on the badass side, with his long hair pulled back. Casey actually looked around to see if the guy had friends, because while Casey wasn’t a wimp, he wasn’t an idiot either.

  “Who’s Poppy?”

  “A housekeeper who’s bloody hell on your wallet.”

  “Good thing I’m leaving, or trying to.” He hit the start button and again, nothing.

  “Need a jump?”

  “That’d be great, although I have a feeling it might be the alternator.”

  The guy held out his big hang. “Ian Browning. Head chef. Didn’t I see you in the restaurant this morning?”

  “Yeah.” Casey shook his hand and then popped the hood open.

  “With the pretty brunette. Striking blue eyes.” Ian walked around to the back of his jeep and took out a set of jumper cables.

  “Good memory.”

  “Not many people walk out on my food.” He popped the hood on his own vehicle, careful not to the let the handles touch. “Take it you and your wife had words.”

  “Ex-wife and you could say that.” As they waited for the battery to charge, Casey gave him a quick run down of the room mix up, including Lacey’s failed attempt to find him alternative lodging. He had no idea why he was spilling his guts to a stranger either. “Sorry about walking out on the meal.”

  Ian waved off his apology. “What are you going to do now?”

  “Drive up the coast.” Casey shrugged his shoulders. “Find a low-key place that has a room, stock up on some beer and watch the waves roll in.”

  “Sounds…good?” It came out more of a question than a statement, but Casey simply nodded and tried the starter again.

  Nothing. “Well this doesn’t bode well. You wouldn’t happen to have a mechanic on the island would you?”

  “Actually we do and he’s not half bad. Let me give him a call.” Ian stepped away to make the call and Casey pulled out his own phone, pulling up the state map.

  Depending on how bad it was, and if the guy could get his hands on the needed parts, he might make it as far as Horseshoe Beach. This time of the year all the tourist would be headed to Disney or the Space Coast. Surely he could find some no-tell motel to chill and be left alone for the week there.

  Ian hung up and told him the tow truck was on the way. “A shame about the room. Barefoot Bay’s a nice place. I’ve been here a couple of years. Never thought I’d end up making it my permanent home.”

  “Why did you?” Casey asked.

  “Pretty Tessa.” The smile said a lot. He went on to explain she was not only the resort gardener, but also part owner. “I came here looking for something.”

  “Take it, you found it.”

  “And more,” Ian replied.

  They were kicked back against the bed of the truck, two guys who didn’t know each other, passing the time. Only it didn’t feel that way to Casey. He couldn’t explain it, other than there was a connection, sort of like one he had with his unit. There was a common thread—in this case, he had a feeling it was getting your gut ripped out by a woman—a shared experience, that thing that made people bond. Life rarely made a person go through its trials and tribulations alone. The trick was keeping your eyes open for an ally. Casey had a feeling, Ian was that person he needed right then.

  “Can I get personal for a minute?” At Casey’s nod, Ian scratched at his chin and chuckled. “How in the bloody hell did you end up at the same resort as your ex-wife?”

  Casey huffed out a half-attempted laugh. It was a damn good question. “I don’t really know to be honest.”

  Ian scratched the day old growth on his chin again, looking out toward the villas. “Here’s the thing, and if you want to tell me to bugger off and mind my own, I’ll understand. I’m the last person to try to explain why some things happen in life. Some of it’s pretty shitty, and life doesn’t always give you a second, but when it doesn’t, don’t ignore it.”

  There was something in his eyes when he talked that made Casey believe Ian Browning had experienced some of those messed up events. He may have lived to tell about them. Judging by the way he talked about “Pretty Tessa” and his kids, he’d even come out on top. Casey didn’t ask for the details. If the man wanted to share he would.

  “You think life is throwing me a bone here? That me and the ex are meant t
o give it another try or something?”

  “Or something. Barefoot Bay has a way about it, it heals people and gives them a do-over, mate. I’m just saying think about it.”

  They fell into a companionable silence as an ancient tow truck rumbled through the parking lot and came to a stop. The old guy, who had to be sixty or more, ambled out in his greased up coveralls.

  “Let’s take a look, shall we?” He stuck his head under the hood. “Try starting her up.”

  Casey did as he said, the whole time thinking on Ian’s words.

  Was the universe trying to do him a solid? If so, it might start by not screwing with his engine. The old man ambled back to the truck, dug around in his toolbox and went back to work under the hood. There was a lot of clanging and banging and cussing going on. Ian and Casey stayed out of the man’s way. After an indeterminate amount of time, he slammed the hood and stuck his hands in the deep pockets.

  “Well, the good news is your engine’s in pretty good shape. Bad news, you need a new alternator. Good news, I can fix her up for you. Bad news, I’ll have to order the part from Naples and won’t be able to get it done until tomorrow.”

  Casey shook his head. “That won’t work. I need to get on the road today. Is there another mechanic around that can do the work today? Maybe someone in Naples?”

  Both men shook their heads.

  “Ain’t no other mechanic on the island. You could probably get it fixed in Naples, but it’s going to cost you twice as much to tow it as the part itself costs.”

  He looked at the old guy in disbelief. Was the guy hustling him? It didn’t take that long to replace an alternator. An hour or two tops.

  “Tell you what. Let me tow her back to my place and see what I can do. Was going to go fishing with the grandson this afternoon, after his t-ball game, but maybe I can get it done before then.”

  “You’re welcome to hang out here at the resort until it’s fixed,” Ian said. “Have brunch in the restaurant, on me.”

  A headache was forming at the back of his head, probably because he hadn’t eaten in almost twenty-four hours. Not to mention sleep. He’d gotten more shut-eye in a foxhole, in the middle of sandstorm than he had last night. He said okay to both, gave the mechanic his number, and grabbed his duffle. Ian waved him off and headed down a path pointed to the gardens.