Sexy Seaman

by Steele, Paige

  “You’re welcome.” I have to pull my eyes away from him.

  The back of his hand brushes my cheek before he steps to the side. I quickly move and walk toward the coffee pot. The minute I’m out of his eyesight, I touch the same spot on my face that he did. He seems so sweet sometimes, but then he seems like such an ass at other times; I can’t figure him out.

  * * *

  I knock once and the door opens. There he is again. Yep, he looks just as good as he did a half hour ago. I know…coffee doesn’t take a half hour, but I did. I needed to gather enough courage to go to him.

  “I thought maybe you forgot about me,” he says with a smirk, looking amazing in his white captain shirt and black shorts.

  “I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” comes out before I can stop it.

  “Good to know. Come in.” Still smiling at me, he steps out of the way so I can head farther into the room.

  I walk to the table, set his coffee cup down then I turn, moving toward the large picture window so I can look over our view. There is nothing but boats all around us since we are docked in port, but it’s still beautiful to look out at. The sun is starting to fully come up over the water and it’s a gorgeous sight.

  He starts the conversation off; it’s probably for the best. There’s no way I could have even begun to know what to say.

  “I figured we better discuss last night before the others get up and we dive into work today.”

  “I honestly don’t remember ninety percent of what even happened, so you’ll have to share the details.” I wasn’t trying to sound like a dumb drunk, but that’s what I was.

  “Okay then, let me start at the beginning.”

  “Please.”

  I didn’t think he’d go as far back as he did. I don’t need a rehash of the sober parts, I fully remembered those, but he doesn’t miss any detail as he starts. I keep my back to him, until he asks me to sit at the table behind me. My eyes never make contact with his as I slide onto the bench. I continue to look straight ahead of me.

  “You were seated at the table and the only seat free was the one next to you. It wasn’t my intention to sit there, not that I wouldn’t have wanted to, but I thought it would have been safer for the both of us if I sat somewhere else.” I look over at him for a second before I return to the water.

  “Everyone was talking with each other besides you and I. We pretty much only spoke to each other when we were both pulled into the same conversation, otherwise we avoided one another. You started with one glass of wine, then had five more. Yes, I counted, in case you are wondering.” He clearly is a man of detail.

  “You only ate about a cup of your meal, not sure if it wasn’t good but you drank more than you ate.” Yep, a man of detail.

  “You weren’t supposed to sit next to me; it’s your fault.”

  “My fault?” I question with a chuckle.

  “Yes, my brain doesn’t always work when you’re around and then you were close, extremely close. Our legs kept brushing against each other under the table and I couldn’t think straight, so I drank. It was easier than trying not to…”

  “Trying not to what, Maci?” he asks.

  “Nothing, forget it.”

  His fingers come toward me again…Lord, he’s going to touch me. I close my eyes.

  “Please look at me.”

  And there’s the sweet captain again. My face turns toward him as he guides it.

  “Now, please explain, trying not to what?”

  “Trying not to lean into you. You sat so close, and I wanted to just touch you or better yet, I wanted you to touch me, but in the end, I know we probably shouldn’t do this,” I say, wagging my finger between us.

  “You can’t drink like that.”

  “With all due respect, Captain, you can’t tell me what to do. You don’t own me, I’m my own woman.”

  “Yes, because if you were mine, you would have been taken back to my room last night, then I would have bent you over the bed, slapped that pretty little ass of yours, before I would have fucked you until you cried out my name.”

  The pool of wetness between my legs that I had from walking in here and seeing him, just overflowed. Yep, I’m soaked.

  “You can’t say things like that to me. That’s why I drank. See it’s your fault, like I said.”

  “This isn’t any easier on me, than it is you. Do you know how many cold showers I’ve taken since meeting you? I’m in need of one every time you walk in a room I’m in to control the hard on I’m sporting. But I think it’s best if we don’t act on whatever it is between us, for now, anyway.”

  “Understood, Captain.” I may have sounded a bit sarcastic to him, but I can’t help it either. Jesus, two seconds ago he was talking about fucking me, now he’s saying stay away. He’s so confusing. He did end his sentence with “for now,” which doesn’t go unnoticed, but I don’t even want to ask why. I need to stay away, like he asked, end of discussion.

  “Now on to another thing you said last night…which now makes some of your actions make better sense to me.”

  “Oh God, what now?” If I wasn’t already confused about him, what he just said would have had me totally baffled.

  “I know I’ve told you a few times over the last couple of weeks, that we’d discuss what you seem to wrinkle your nose up at on the boat, or what you stare at, followed by a scowl. And during your drunken rambling, you shed some light on the situation.”

  “I did?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Okay, so what did I say last night?” I can only imagine at this point.

  “You told Brittany the boat is ugly and tacky. I’m not sure if it’s because of the gold fixtures that I’ve also learned you don’t like, or if it’s the entire boat that makes you feel this way. So, I think we have some things to discuss, Maci.”

  Where is there a hole I can crawl into?

  “Shit, I’m sorry.”

  “No reason to say you’re sorry, if it’s your honest opinion, then I appreciate the honesty.”

  “Umm, I don’t know what to say.”

  “You can start by telling me the truth.”

  “I have a degree in interior design and clearly my inner thoughts come out in my facial expressions.”

  “I’ve seen your résumé Maci, so I’m well aware of your degrees; now I want to hear your inner thoughts about my boat.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know. How about this, through the next charter, why don’t you sit down and list out the things you’d change on the boat. Then we’ll meet up and you can show them to me.”

  “Then what, you’ll give them to the owner of SS Yachts?”

  “I’m sure he’ll want to see it; he may even hire you to redo the boats he has.”

  “Wow, do you know him well enough to show him?”

  “I guess you can say I do.”

  “That would be awesome Captain, thanks!”

  I go from thinking he’s an ass to he might just be a good guy. It would be amazing to work for such a well-known yachting company. I don’t want to get ahead of myself but I’m secretly jumping up and down.

  Then the ass comes back out.

  “Now to reiterate, we need to be professional around each other at all times.”

  I want to tell him, “His hands have found me first and that goes for his lips too, so stick it, Mr. Captain” but instead I nod and smile, like a good girl before finding the door.

  Screw him. I’ll show him how professional I can be…and how jealous I can make him. A smirk finds my lips as I round the corner toward the stairs.

  * * *

  About an hour ago we had another staff meeting as to what will happen tonight. The captain made it very clear what he expects from us, as he used that damn professional word again, then looked directly at me.

  We are minutes away, waiting for our guests to arrive. All of us are in our white shirts and black bottoms. Everyone looks good, ready to ge
t this charter underway. We only have a few hours to show them what taking a cruise with us would be like, for us to earn a good size tip. Unfortunately, it won’t be the full effect of what we can do, but hopefully we prove ourselves.

  He looks hot standing in his whites, along with his captain hat, which has me wanting to take them off him…everything. The sight of him had my thighs clenching together to reveal the ache of wanting him. I hate how much he affects me and yet I wonder if I do the same things to him.

  Everyone is chit chatting when the captain speaks, “Here we go, people. Game faces on, let’s make a good first impression.”

  As if we are trained, the entire crew slides their hands down the front of their shirts, making sure they show no wrinkles and they are tucked in properly.

  He addresses our guests as they arrive, making sure they are told to let us know if they need anything. After the main charter guests step on, he lets us know to start serving drinks and to bring out the appetizers. Marco has been preparing most of the day, so he assures the captain he is ready before he takes off toward the kitchen. The rest of us attend to the stations we were asked to cover during the cocktail party. Marie had assigned stations we would be at throughout the night; she made sure nothing would be unattended.

  “Hey, I’m Bridget, this boat is beautiful.” She smiles widely at me as I stand behind the outside bar.

  “It is,” I respond. I notice to my right, the raise of the eyebrows and smirk that is displayed on the captain’s face as he stands talking to who I’m assuming is Bridget’s husband, since they walked on the boat together. I know it’s his way of saying…See my boat is pretty, just the way she is. I give an eye roll back, letting him know I get it.

  I can hear their conversation as they stand close; Bridget turns to face them to engage in their discussion.

  “Oh, please, there’s no getting away from the ER sometimes. When he’s on call, he tends to sleep there because it’s easier, plain and simple. Usually, by the time he pulls in the driveway, they are calling him again anyway so why bother driving home.”

  “Yes, but you know I hate being away from you and the kids so much.” He leans down and places a tiny kiss to the top of her head.

  “That’s right, you have three, right? A boy and twin girls? You both must be busy, at home and work.”

  “Yeah, we do and yes we are, but she’s an incredible mother and nurse. She does way more than me.” Her husband pulls her into his side and gives her a one-arm hug.

  "I’d say we are about even. You are a great dad and do all you can, when you can. You’re the doctor, I’m just a nurse.”

  “There’s no such thing as just a nurse,” the captain states.

  “No, there isn’t,” comes from the doctor.

  “You know what I mean.” She playfully slaps her husband’s chest with her hand.

  “Behind every good doctor is a nurse that’s even better, but in my case, my nurse stands in front of me, she’s that good.” He winks down at her.

  Watching those two interact has me wanting that…that loving relationship. I’ve never wanted it before, why now? Pulling myself away from them, I know I need to stop listening. I start wiping down the bar and making sure everything is in order and ready to go for when more guests arrive.

  “Ann, can you stay here for a moment by yourself, we need lemons. I want to run to the kitchen to grab some.” I thought we had brought them out, clearly we hadn’t. Since Ann and I will be manning this station together, I need her okay to leave for a few minutes.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Fuck, I don’t think I’m going to be able to control myself around all these hot doctors. Did you see the ones already on board?” Brittany says as soon as I step a foot inside the kitchen.

  “Haha, you better. I’m sure their spouses wouldn’t like you hitting on their husbands.”

  “Ya never know, maybe they are into threesomes,” she giggles out.

  “Oh, my God, are you?” I can’t help but ask.

  “Never had one,” she laughs again while shrugging her shoulders.

  Shaking my head at her, I laugh as I grab the small black bowl of the lemons we already have cut up, out of the refrigerator. She seems to surprise me daily with some of the things that come out of her mouth. Walking back out toward the bar, I see more people arriving. There are about ten to fifteen people standing around talking, waiting for drinks. I start immediately helping Ann, as she has the list of drinks she wrote down in front of her.

  When the first course is ready to be served, it forces the captain to make an announcement, asking all guests to have a seat. I make my way to the kitchen with all other staff. Trays of soup are good to go; the guys are carrying them out since they are really heavy. We have small high-top tables set around the deck where they can place them, making it easier for us to serve.

  “Here ya go,” I say, as I set bowls in front of two ladies who seem to be engrossed in conversation about a certain doctor. Based on what I’ve heard, one seems to be irritated with him and the other seems to be trying to reassure her about something. When my eyes follow the same direction that the reassuring friend is looking, I see a doctor sitting with a redhead and she looks awful friendly with him.

  They thank me before I move on to the next guest. I take one glance around the table, making sure everyone has a bowl and a drink before I walk back in toward the kitchen with the rest of the crew.

  “My God, they get hotter as you go around the table,” Brittany announces to everyone.

  “I know, right?” Marie agrees.

  “And there might be a real-life soap opera on board,” I state.

  “Oh, what do you mean?” Brittany comes closer.

  “I just have a feeling the only two women sitting together at the main table are pissed at the doctor who is the guest of honor.”

  “He’s the one who brought a bitchy little redhead, right?” Ann asks.

  “Yep, she’s all over him, yet he doesn’t seem to be really responding to her. But one of the ladies is glaring in his direction and the other one keeps glancing down there too.”

  “This could be a fun night after all,” Marie says, but reminds us to be professional at all times.

  The second and third courses come out within thirty minutes of each other. Each guest is raving about the taste of each dish, how they want to take the chef home with them, and a bunch of their wives agree, but they haven’t even met him yet. Wait ‘til they see him, I bet taking him home will have a whole new meaning. I giggle to myself at the thought as I turn the corner toward the stairs; I need to use the bathroom in my cabin before I serve another course. I quickly find my way, then as I’m ready to turn the corner, I walk right into him.

  His arms reach for mine as he looks down to see who he bumped into.

  “Maci.”

  “Captain.”

  “How’s the evening going?”

  “I think well.” I’m not used to small talk with him.

  “Good.”

  “Yes, it’s good but if you’ll excuse me.”

  He hasn’t let go of my arms and his thumbs are doing that thing again—you know that thing that shows endearment—rubbing them back and forth on my bare skin.

  “Where are you headed? Shouldn’t you be up with the guests?” Just like that, he drops his hands and the ‘I’m not touching you anymore captain’ comes out.

  “I will be as soon as I use the facilities.” I move to walk past him, not saying another word. Grrr, he makes me mad.

  I’m back upstairs in time to clear the plates off the tables. I lost count of what course we are on; I feel like I’ve been serving them all night. Walking as fast as I can to the kitchen, I put the plates on the counter with all the other dishes the interior crew will be up ‘til God knows when washing…myself included. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen piles this high in my life.

  Here we go with the last course. Setting the white dishes down, one at a time, everyone is saying thank you, unt
il I get to the last one. She lets me know she couldn’t eat another bite and as I pull back my hand with the dish, I knock over her drink. Shit!

  “I am so sorry, miss.”

  “It’s fine, absolutely fine.” She gives my hand a squeeze as I reach for one of the extra white linen napkins next to her.

  She tells me about something that happened to her at her job just last week. I realize at that point she’s a waitress, and an ease settles over me. She continues to tell me she’s been doing it for over six years and that is how she put herself through college, as well as paying her bills currently. She goes to stand and wobbles a little. I catch her elbow to help.

  Helping her toward the upstairs restroom for guests seems the least I can do since I’m the one who spilled her drink. Of course, we have to run into the one person who is driving me crazy.

  He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, along with a scowl on his face. “Is everything okay?”

  She gives him a smartass comment back and I want to laugh but think better of it. Then as if I wasn’t doing it already, he thinks he has to remind me to take care of our guest. That has me wanting to give him a smartass comment too…No duh, Captain, but instead I say two words, “Of course,” and give a small nod of my head.

  Walking past him, I can’t help but to let her know I appreciate her words. “You didn’t have to do that but thank you. He can be stern at times but means well,” I say hoping to cover up for his attitude, but she finishes my sentence with what I’m actually thinking, she says, “but he’s an ass.” I smile at her comment.

  “All the hot ones are,” is the last thing she says, causing us both to laugh at the same time.

  I grab a bottle of club soda as we walk into the enclosed room. She assures me she’s fine and tells me that it’s not the first time it’s happened to her and it won’t be the last, then tells me to go back out, practically pushing me out the door. I leave her to attend to the mess I made. I like her.

  The primary guest and his beautiful wife, Bridget, walk toward all of us lined up at the flybridge back to land.