Table of Contents
Books by Catherine Curzon and Eleanor Harkstead
Title Page
Legal Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademark Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
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About the Authors
Pride Publishing books by Catherine Curzon and Eleanor Harkstead
Single Books
An Actor’s Guide to Romance
A Late Summer Night’s Dream
The Captain’s Ghostly Gamble
The Captain’s Cornish Christmas
The Captain’s Flirty Fireworks
Captivating Captains
The Captain and the Cavalry Trooper
The Captain and the Cricketer
The Captain and the Theatrical
Pride Publishing books by Catherine Curzon
Anthology
I Need a Hero: The Angel on the Northern Line
Pride Publishing books by Eleanor Harkstead
Single Books
The Low Road
Captivating Captains
THE CAPTAIN AND THE BEST MAN
CATHERINE CURZON & ELEANOR HARKSTEAD
The Captain and the Best Man
ISBN # 978-1-913186-48-7
©Copyright Catherine Curzon and Eleanor Harkstead 2019
Cover Art by Cherith Vaughan ©Copyright December 2019
Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz
Pride Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2019 by Pride Publishing, United Kingdom.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorised copies.
Pride Publishing is an imprint of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book”.
Book four in the Captivating Captains series
When Josh meets handsome airline pilot Captain Guy Collingwood on a sun-kissed island, he finds out what flying first class really means!
When Josh leaves the rainy shores of England for the sun-drenched tropical island of St Sebastian, his biggest worry is remembering his best man’s speech. But a chance meeting with dashing airline pilot Captain Guy Collingwood leads to a hot and raunchy holiday romance.
Guy’s everything Josh is looking for in his ideal man. Mature, dashing and confident, he’s also single and more than happy to show Josh the pleasure of St Sebastian. Yet Guy’s unruffled demeanor hides a past regret. Is the wedding of Josh’s best friend about to reopen a painful chapter that has never fully closed?
As a fearsome tropical storm threatens the island paradise and a broken family threatens Josh and Guy’s happiness, the stakes have never been higher. Can St Sebastian work its magic to heal past wounds and will Josh and Guy’s holiday fling take flight?
Dedication
CC – To all the pilots that wave.
EH – For my mum.
Trademark Acknowledgements
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Narnia: C.S. Lewis
Poundland: Steinhoff International
British Airways: British Airways Plc
Facebook: Facebook, Inc.
It’s Raining Men: Paul Jabara, Paul Shaffer
James Bond: Danjaq, LLC
RAF: The Secretary of State for Defence in her Britanniac Majesty’s Government of the United Kingdom and Northern Ireland Corporation
Tesco: Tesco
Google: Google LLC
Air France: Societe Air France Corporation
Fiat 500: FCA Group Marketing S.P.A
Jag XK120: Jaguar Land Rover Limited
Tornados: Panavia Aircraft GmbH
Chapter One
The farthest Josh had ever traveled before was Magaluf. He glanced at his boarding pass again as he headed to the departure lounge, still not quite believing what it said.
Pointe-à-Pitre, Guadeloupe.
Nine hours on a plane.
At least I can have a nap.
Josh trundled his cabin bag through Duty Free and left with aftershave and sunglasses that he wasn’t sure he needed. Then he found a café, the perfect place to camp out with a book and kill time before the flight. Half-asleep, Josh clambered over other people’s luggage to join the queue.
Nine hours in steerage.
The cafe’s prices seemed only slightly more reasonable than the eye-watering first-class ticket that Josh couldn’t afford, but he could treat himself at least. An array of elaborate, decadent pastries filled the glass-fronted cabinet, tempting any travelers who were about to submit to airline food, and Josh was happy to surrender to their charms. It was a nice way to start the holiday, after all.
Where are all these people going? he wondered idly as he waited to be served. Screaming babies, excited gaggles of students with packs on their backs, stressed-looking business types and children zooming around making plane noises, all of them ready to escape the autumn drizzle.
Josh ordered a latte, then selected a cinnamon bun from the pastries on offer. It was the last one, a complicated twist of pastry zigzagged with icing and dark with cinnamon. He’d never seen a bun like it.
“If that’s really the last bun, you’d better hope you’re not on my flight,” a plummy voice announced from behind Josh. “Or I’ll make it a bumpy landing.”
“It’s the last one,” the young woman who was serving Josh said with a comical pout, a red flush creeping over her throat. “Sorry, Cap!”
Cap?
When Josh turned to face the man behind him, his fringe swished into his eyes. He brushed it away with the back of his hand as he looked up.
Bloody hell.
There behind him in the queue was a pilot clad in the sort of immaculate uniform he could only have dreamed of—every button shiny, every seam straight, his hat at a perfect angle on his head. But Josh barely noticed because his gaze was drawn to the pilot’s hands
ome, chiseled face.
“I…erm…sorry! I don’t mind having an almond croissant instead, if you’ve got your heart set on a cinnamon bun.”
“Well it is my birthday,” the pilot told him, his expression somber. Then he blinked his blue eyes and smiled. “But I’m a nice fellow, so take it. It’s my treat.” He looked to the woman behind the counter, who was beaming at him, Josh entirely forgotten in the wake of the Cap. “Throw me something nice with pistachios into a bag and a huge cup of tea, please! I’m paying for His Cinnamon Munching Majesty here, too. And something for you as well, of course! Happy birthday to me, eh?”
Josh smiled. A stranger—a pilot, no less—was footing his bill. “You really don’t have to!”
The bright lights of the café picked out discreet flecks of silver in the pilot’s hair and Josh couldn’t look away. The man was so effortlessly confident and self-assured. Radiant. And at this time of the morning, too. “But…if you insist. And—happy birthday, by the way.”
“Thirty again.” The pilot grinned. “I’ve been thirty for about nineteen years now, but don’t tell anyone.”
“Do you keep a portrait in your attic or something? You’re never—” Forty-nine? Josh stopped himself before he announced the man’s age across the café. “I’m thirty next year,” Josh volunteered, though he had no idea why.
“Happy early thirtieth.” He chuckled, handing a note to the woman. “Take my advice and always claim to be thirty next birthday. It’s a good age to be, even for nineteen years.”
Josh chuckled. “And what if I claim to be twenty-nine again next year? Then I’ll always be a year younger than you!”
Always? Josh glanced away. You don’t say always to the man stood behind you in the queue, who’s about to fly off to God knows where. Josh looked instead at the bottles of syrup along the shelf and caught the pilot’s reflection in the mirrored wall behind.
What a smile.
“It’s a deal,” was the reply. “Maturity is vastly overrated, after all.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Josh turned back to the pilot with a grin. Why not? If he was straight, the bloke wouldn’t notice he was flirting. “Maturity can be very nice indeed.”
He heard the tinkle of coins as the pilot dropped his change into the tip cup. “Well, this birthday’s getting better. No cinnamon bun this morning, but you’ve more than made up for it.”
They stood at the end of the counter, waiting for their drinks.
“Is it your favorite?” Josh asked. “I honestly don’t mind relinquishing it. Seeing as it’s your birthday. That bun does look amazing, but so do all the others.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it!” The pilot nodded toward a brightly decorated paper bag on the counter. “Whatever’s in there will be just as tasty. Besides, I can always have something special when you and I go out to dinner. If you’d let an old reprobate like me take you to dinner, that is?”
Stunned, Josh rubbed his tired eyes and blinked. “I’m not imagining things, am I? You did just invite me to dinner?”
“Don’t tell me you’re flying out of Blighty for good?” The pilot’s grin grew more mischievous. “I’m off on a bit of a jolly once I clock off but I’m safely back on British shores in a fortnight. What do you say?”
“I’d say very definitely yes. I’m going to my friend’s wedding, but I’ll be back in a week. So…once you’ve returned from your jolly, let’s meet.” Josh’s face began to ache from smiling. He added, “I’m Josh, by the way.”
“Guy,” he replied. Guy. How well the name suited him. Guy the pilot. Guy with the immaculate uniform and blue eyes. Happy birthday to Guy. “Hello, Josh!”
Not knowing what else to do, Josh held out his hand to shake. “Hello, Guy.”
Gorgeous Guy.
Who was about to hop into the cockpit and fly off who knew where.
Guy took Josh’s hand in his own and shook it. Josh was barely aware of the drinks arriving, his placed on the tray with a clink of crockery, Guy’s in a takeaway cup. When Guy released Josh’s hand, he reached into the well-cut jacket of his uniform and took out a silver pen.
A fountain pen, Josh noted. Just right.
“Let me give you my number,” Guy said. Josh resisted the urge to tell him he could put it straight into his phone, because there was something about that dark blue ink and the swirl of handwriting as Guy wrote on one of the napkins, something wonderfully traditional. Romantic, even. “There you go!”
“Thanks.” Josh carefully laid the napkin on his tray. “Enjoy your flight. And your jolly, Captain Guy.”
“Enjoy the wedding.” Guy gave a little bow. “And my cinnamon bun.”
“I intend to!” Josh said. “We’ll speak soon.”
With another flash of that brilliant smile Guy picked up the cup. He raised his cap momentarily to Josh, then picked up the bag and said, “Happy flying!”
“Bye!” Josh waved.
Why did they both have to go their separate ways so soon after meeting? But Josh had Captain Guy’s number. They’d meet again, he knew it.
He watched Guy stride away across the wide expanse of gleaming floor. He wasn’t the only person watching, Josh knew, but he was the one with Guy’s number.
Dinner. How could I say no to that?
In a daze—partly brought on by an early start, but mainly due to the last few minutes of his life—Josh took a seat at a table. He put down his tray and tore a piece from his bun. It really was delicious, the pastry melting on his tongue and the—
His table jolted as a little boy in a striped T-shirt accidentally barreled into it.
“You okay?” Josh asked, but the child ran off. Josh shrugged and went back to his bun, only to discover that the child’s impact with his table had sent his coffee sloshing over the side of the cup.
And it had saturated the napkin.
Guy’s phone number, written with such crisp elegance in fountain pen, was nothing now but a smudged, smeary watercolor. Josh carefully peeled the napkin off the tray and stared at it, trying to decipher the blurred mess. He could just about see a seven… It definitely started with a zero. And there was a three…or was it an eight?…at the end.
The number had gone. Lost. Just as suddenly as Captain Guy had entered Josh’s life, he had left it.
Oh, well.
It had been a nice little fantasy while it had lasted. The HR manager and the airline pilot. And now a fantasy was all it’d ever be.
Chapter Two
Josh bought himself more aftershave and shower gel to match it, and nearly bought another pair of sunglasses, but finally his flight was called.
He shuffled into line at the gate with all the other passengers. They were happy, and Josh tried his best to be, but he couldn’t help but be haunted by what had slipped through his hands. That voice. Those eyes. And bloody hell, Guy had looked sexy as anything in that uniform.
Worst of all, Guy would just think Josh hadn’t bothered, that he was being polite, humoring a bit of flirtation from a charming older man. He’d be waiting for a call that never came and Josh would never be able to explain why.
The thought followed him along the tunnel and onto the aircraft, past the smiling attendants and into the world’s smallest, tightest seat.
Nine hours.
Nine hours of thinking about not thinking about Guy and a seat that seems to have been designed for a very small child.
“Mr. Robertson?” An immaculate flight attendant was beside his seat, her coral-pink lips set into a polite smile.
What now?
“Oh—should I put my Duty Free under the seat? It’s in the overhead locker, but I can move it, it’s okay.”
“Your seat’s been upgraded to first class, Mr. Robertson,” she told him. “Complimentary, of course. Would you follow me, sir?”
Josh started to unfold himself from his seat, but paused. This was crazy. “I’m Josh Robertson, yeah? Are you sure you’ve got the right bloke?”
“There’s
no mistake,” she said with an efficient, cheery politeness. “Of course, if you’d prefer this seat, you’re welcome to stay here. Would you prefer this seat, sir?”
Josh shot up out of his seat and hit his head on the panel above his head. The air-nozzle went off with a whoosh.
“Ooof! No…no, I’d very much like to travel first, thanks!” Josh glanced at her name badge. “Erm…Teri. Thanks.”
He was going to be one of the people who turned left. Not right, not into that vast, cramped cabin, but left through the curtain. He was going into Narnia, taking the aisle to the promised land. Every eye seemed to be on Josh as he followed the attendant, past the door and through that mythical curtain.
First class.
Once he passed through the curtain, the very air seemed to change. It felt calmer. Less cramped. Less busy. Spacious, even. And no one yelling for crayons and a coloring book either. Although Josh might have done had he remained squashed into his tiny seat. Now, though, he had ahead of him only nine hours of luxury.
His seat wasn’t so much a seat as a small, self-contained room. A little pod, almost. His pod, until Guadeloupe.
“Can I offer you a glass of complimentary champagne?” his fairy godmother asked.
“Is that allowed at ten in the morning?” Josh asked as he settled into his seat. “Because I wouldn’t say no.” He felt like he’d won the lottery, because clearly he had—they must’ve wanted to fill a seat in first and drawn a passenger name at random. There was no other way that he could’ve escaped steerage.
And as if by magic, there it was, bubbles rising gently to the surface.
“Enjoy your flight.” The attendant beamed. “Call if you need anything.”
“Will do—and thanks!”
Josh set about exploring his new world. A menu—an actual menu—three different kinds of champagne to choose from, a beautiful, soft blanket, complimentary earphones which didn’t look like they came from Poundland and, more than anything, space. Glorious, wonderful, amazing space. Josh stretched his legs out and they didn’t meet the seat in front. What a novelty this was. And how completely unexpected.
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