The Captain and the Best Man

by Catherine Curzon

  “I’m going to meet you at Heathrow. Straight off the plane,” Josh promised him.

  Once Josh was on the quay, he knelt down and touched the water with his fingertips one last time. Then he stood and gave Guy a hug. “Sorry. Just wanted to say goodbye to the sea until I meet it again. Pays to be nice to the sea, doesn’t it?”

  “That’s why I’m never going to take this necklace off,” Guy told him as they embraced. “It’s a little bit of St Seb’s wherever I am, and it’s the first gift I ever got from the man I love. And I do have some very good memories of the beach now, thanks to you. Not so much the drowning bride as the long, lazy evenings in the surf.”

  And it was such a short walk to the airport.

  Too short.

  The grand, glass airport seemed so elaborate to Josh after a week on St Seb’s, where no building was higher than three stories. He and Guy hugged at the check-in desk, Josh fearing that security would need to be called to prize his arms from Guy.

  “Time to go,” Josh said, and ruffled Guy’s hair.

  “You better had.” He laughed. “Teri’s on the flight, she’s going to look after you, and you’ve got the best seat in the house. I love you, Josh.”

  “I love you too.” Josh grinned, then pressed his lips to Guy’s ear to ask, “Shall I book a hotel for us at Heathrow? Straight off the plane and straight into bed?”

  “You leave all that to me,” his lover replied. “I’ve already got plans for our reunion.”

  “Sounds promising!” Josh grinned. “Will you send me a postcard?”

  “I’ll probably pass it on the way home,” Guy lamented. “You won’t have time to miss me. Now go on, before I stop being dashing and start blubbing—and remember, make the best of the bubbly!”

  “I’ll look out of the window and toast us as we fly overhead.” Josh gave him a wink. “Okay…I’ll see you soon. And I’ll enjoy the hell out of the first-class lounge! Thanks, darling.”

  “I love you,” Guy told him again but as they parted, Josh couldn’t look anywhere but at Captain Guy Collingwood, his lover, who kept waving as Josh walked away.

  How much better would the first-class lounge have been with Guy beside me?

  After loafing in first class, trying not to think about the jumper in his hand luggage which he’d need once they’d landed in England, Josh was at the departure gate. The enormous plane that would be his home for the next nine hours sat on the tarmac, its windows glinting in the sun, glamorous and alluring. So much had changed in the past week that if Josh had collided with his old self in the airport, they wouldn’t have recognized each other.

  He headed up the tunnel and at the door to the aircraft, met Teri. She was immaculate again, her Yorkshire tones replaced by the well-schooled voice of the head flight attendant who would see them safely over the ocean and home.

  “Good morning, sir, and welcome to one of my last long hauls.” She grinned, then grabbed Josh’s hand and squeezed it. “Me and Noah don’t want to wait. I’ll be on St Seb’s by Christmas! You’re definitely coming to the wedding. I don’t care if the world of corporate HR collapses without you!”

  Josh smiled. “I’d love to! And Guy wants to hold a New Year’s Eve bash at his house on the island—I’ll definitely be there.” Josh ignored the growing press of passengers behind him. “But…what’ll you do out there? Still be a flight attendant?”

  “Una’s got the wedding bug and the hotel guests never stopped raving about the food she cooked at the storm party,” she told him. “The hotel does loads of weddings and they want Una to be their amazing food guru. She’s like Guy though, super talented but rotten at paperwork. So that’s where I come in. I’m going to be a wedding concierge, so basically a flight attendant without a plane.”

  “That sounds amazing!” Josh beamed. Then he remembered the people squashed behind him. “Time to get snuggly in my pod…!”

  “Enjoy your flight, sir.” She smiled. “I predict a smooth journey today.”

  “Calm after the storm and all that!” Josh said with a grin as he headed through the curtain to first class.

  He found his pod and stretched out, amusing himself looking at the menu. Guy would be back on the island by now, and Josh pictured him on the veranda with a pot of tea. If only he could’ve stayed there with him.

  This is going to be the longest week ever.

  Josh sighed and listened to the sounds of the airplane, the hum of engines and the polite chatter of his fellow passengers. He heard the doors close and looked out at Guadeloupe, shining in the sun. Somewhere out there, beyond the runways and the ocean, St Sebastian glittered. And he had left his heart on the island.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.”

  Not just any captain.

  Josh dropped his glossy inflight magazine and stared at the speaker above his seat.

  Guy. Guy is flying the plane.

  “Welcome aboard this British Airways flight to London Heathrow. The forecast is excellent, we’re right on schedule and I’d like to inform the gentleman sitting in seat A2 that a week was far too long to wait. Even a couple of hours was a stretch.”

  Josh blushed and turned with an awkward smile to his fellow passengers, but soon remembered that he couldn’t see them cocooned in their pods.

  “The marvelous Teri Norman will be looking after you today, and if she seems a little giddy, it’s because she got engaged during her stopover on St Sebastian. A round of applause for Teri, if you’d be so kind.”

  And everyone obeyed with a polite clatter of applause, because when Guy requested anything in that smooth, merry voice, how could they not?

  Teri, who’s going to St Sebastian to live her dream.

  “Teri and her team will take you through our safety procedures as we on the flight deck prepare for take-off. In nine hours we’ll be landing in Blighty and I’ll be eating cinnamon buns with the man I love. Until then, I can assure you that you’re in very good hands. Cabin crew, please prepare for gate departure, we’re raring to go.”

  Reluctantly, Josh buckled himself in. If only he could spend the next nine hours with Guy. But the same plane was enough—it was better than being on separate continents.

  And soon they’d be home. Together.

  Once the plane was in the air, Josh relaxed with a Buck’s Fizz and chose a film to watch. He didn’t pay much attention to it as a far more interesting film played out in his mind. The sun-drenched afternoon when he and Guy had swum off his private beach and made love on the sand afterward. And ended up in the bath.

  Josh tucked himself under his blanket. The air con in the cabin was rather too enthusiastic. Yes, what a beautiful afternoon that had been, followed by a wonderful evening and a very romantic night.

  Josh and his captain, falling asleep in each other’s arms… Josh closed his eyes.

  Some hours later he woke up, sure he’d imprinted his hand onto the side of his face. He yawned himself awake.

  It was already dark.

  Josh picked up his glass to finish his drink and he smiled as, underneath, he found a note.

  I know this marvellous hotel near Heathrow… Perfect for poets and pilots. Love you, darling. Xxxxx

  Josh grinned. He tore a sheet out of the notepad he’d bought at the airport with every intention of writing a poem. He hadn’t, of course. But maybe he would one day. Josh scribbled his reply.

  Do they serve cinnamon buns? Xxxx

  He leaned forward in his seat and saw Teri talking to one of the other passengers. He waved to her. She trotted over and seconds later the note was on its way to Guy. A minute or so after that she was back, handing Josh his lover’s reply.

  Only with champagne. Xxxxx

  Josh laughed.

  Above him the speaker buzzed into life and Guy’s voice filled the plane once more, as calm and cool as ever it was.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, this is Captain Collingwood speaking. We’re about to make our descent in London where
the local time is eleven p.m. I’m sorry to say that it’s raining and rather chilly, with a temperature of nine degrees, so I hope you’ve packed a cuddly sweater. The seatbelt signs are now illuminated and we’re clear for descent. Cabin crew, prepare for landing.”

  Josh sighed as he folded up his blanket. He wound his watch forward to eleven o’clock and brought his seat up, then fastened his belt. Nine degrees, when it had been thirty-three when they’d left Pointe-à-Pitre. He’d definitely be putting his jumper on when they landed, even though it hopefully wouldn’t be too long before he’d be flinging it off.

  But he was going to back to work on Monday. His tan would look good against his white shirt, but there was a team-building session to organize for the new on-road sales team, and handouts to print, and there was some new system for arranging photocopying, and—

  I wish I was in St Sebastian.

  He could be. There was no reason on Earth why not.

  The rain rattled against the window but Josh saw only sunshine, thinking of himself and Guy, together on their island paradise. It wasn’t a dream—it could be their reality. He had only to throw aside the sensible Josh Robertson who was forever blocking his way to fun and adventure—and grasp it.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Guy said as the plane came to a halt on the tarmac, “welcome to London Heathrow. On behalf of this British Airways crew, it’s been a pleasure to fly with you today and I hope you have a very good evening—whatever you may be doing.”

  No one was going to be looking, so Josh blew a kiss at the speaker above his head. “I certainly know what we’re going to be doing,” Josh said.

  He was spirited from the plane, through passport control, and collected his luggage. Josh had switched his phone on but he wasn’t expecting to hear from Guy at once. The man had just safely landed a plane in a downpour after a nine-hour flight and presumably had more to do than send him saucy texts.

  As he wheeled his case out of Arrivals, Josh looked up and saw his name. It was written in neat capitals on a piece of white paper, held in the manicured hand of a smiling BA employee.

  “Mr. Robertson? Captain Collingwood has asked me to escort you through the terminal.” She beamed brightly, despite the rain. “Did you have a pleasant trip?”

  “I slept for most of it, but then, Captain Collingwood is an expert pilot!” Josh thought of those wonderful hands running over his body and a delicious shiver ran through him. Expert in a lot of things.

  “He’s certainly one of the prides of the fleet.” His comrade smiled, her heels clicking efficiently through the enormous hall. Josh wondered where they were going, but wherever it was, it led to Guy, so that could only be a good thing.

  A coffee shop.

  And not just a coffee shop, but a branch of the same shop in which they had met just a week earlier.

  “Captain Collingwood will be along as soon as he’s completed his post-flight business.” She escorted him to a table, where a latte and cinnamon bun already waited. “I’ve popped my card on the table. If you need anything at all, just call.”

  “Thanks!” Josh took his seat and sipped at his coffee. He took out his phone and snapped a selfie of himself biting into the bun. Hope one’s left for you xxxx, and he sent it to Guy.

  The reply took a moment.

  Not if I know you! Xxxxx

  Josh wiped his hands on his napkin and replied, My lips are covered in sugar now. Will you kiss it off? Xxx

  Just as he pressed send, he noticed a disruption in the constant stream of passengers. A hen party returning from who-knew-where were cackling en masse, pointing farther along the concourse. Josh couldn’t resist having a peep himself.

  He should’ve guessed.

  It was Guy. In full, glorious uniform, striding with easy confidence over the polished floor of the airport. Josh fell in love with him all over again. He was the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen, in and out of uniform. And Josh would’ve still thought so even if Guy drove a bus and lived in a terrace.

  But that uniform…

  Before Josh could stop himself, he was out of his seat, his trainers squeaking over the floor as he ran toward Guy.

  And Guy quickened his pace into a run to meet Josh, the rest of the world falling away. As the hen party gave a whoop of delighted awwwws, Josh felt Guy’s arms around his waist, then his feet were clear of the ground with the force of his lover’s embrace.

  Josh kissed him on the lips, leaving a trail of sugar. In a rush, he said, “Take me back to St Seb with you!”

  “Every time, darling.” Guy settled his cap on Josh’s head. “How does Christmas in the Caribbean sound?”

  “Amazing!” Josh grinned and tugged the hat to sit at an angle. “But let’s make a go of it—what do you think? You could fly Victor’s planes between the islands, and I can sort out the business stuff, and I promise never to tell you to be solution focused, not problem focused. We can have cinnamon buns for breakfast every day and throw parties every week!”

  “You don’t mean that, you’ve just got the Heathrow blues.” His lover laughed, snuggling him close. “I love you, Josh, whether we’re in the rain or the sun. You don’t have to give anything up for me!”

  Josh rested his head on Guy’s shoulder and breathed in his scent. Masculine, spicy. Exciting. “I want to, though. Then we can be with each other all the time. And maybe drive each other up the wall, but at least we can go for a nice swim whenever we want!”

  “How can I say no to that?” Guy kissed his cheek, still holding him tight. “Let’s talk about it over champagne. In bed?”

  “Yes,” Josh decided. “In bed.”

  What the heck was in that bun?

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was another lovely day on St Sebastian. The clear blue sea was calm, and the breeze gently stirred the palms. Out on the beach, an arch of flowers framed Pierre, who was waiting for the grooms with Rey. There on the sand, perched in the neatly arranged seats, were their friends and family, some from England, some from St Seb’s, the place that they now called home. Pris, Josh noted, was beaming almost as brightly as his own parents were, snapping photos on her mobile of the guests, whom she was martialing like a sergeant major. Teri looked on indulgently, taking plenty of photos of her own. And there, in the comfiest chair of all, his wife at his side, was Victor, the happiest retiree in Guadeloupe, happy in the knowledge that his business had passed into the safest hands he could hope for. Because who could be more passionate and sensible than the combined forces of Gosh?

  Dressed in a dapper white linen suit, Josh wandered barefoot onto the beach, carrying a posy of rich orange flowers. He glanced up as his future husband approached.

  And all over again, he was speechless.

  It wasn’t the uniform, but the uniform. Wing Commander Collingwood, as once he had been.

  Guy met Josh’s gaze and winked.

  He can still surprise me, even after a year in his arms.

  Josh took his captain’s hand as they met at the end of the aisle and walked onward together to their future.

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  The Captain’s Flirty Fireworks

  Author Name

  Excerpt

  When Rob Monteagle pushed open the door of the King’s Head, he walked into a lull in the conversation. He’d only recently moved to Longley Magna, and it seemed that the locals of the South Downs village were still getting the measure of him.

  Rob nodded and gave a small wave to the other drinkers, and once they seemed satisfied that they knew who he was—a rather loud stage whisper from someone in the pub of “He’s that new fireman!” helped—they went back to their Saturday night conversations.

  He ordered a pint of the local ale and leaned back against the old bar, wondering how to strike up a conversation—wondering who would want him to. Everyone seemed settled in their own little groups, and when Rob had attempted to join in on his last visit to the pub, he’d received a jovi
al barrage of remarks about helmets and hoses. Still, he had to try.

  Before Rob had a chance to move, the pub door swung open, admitting a blast of cold November air to the busy taproom. It admitted a man too, and the very sight of him sent a frisson through Rob just as it did every time he caught a glimpse of the stranger, who was usually to be seen on horseback.

  Tonight, though, he was on his own two feet and his handsome face was lit by a smile brighter than any fire. He stood just inside the pub doorway and called to the assembled drinkers, “I need a hero who doesn’t mind heights, at the double!”

  Rob put his pint down on the bar. Now here was an opportunity to be useful to the community and—well, he had to be honest, the bloke was gorgeous.

  “I don’t know about a hero, but I’m not scared of heights. Been up a fair few ladders in my time!” He crossed the room and smiled into the man’s sparkling dark eyes. “I’m Rob, the new fire officer at Longley Magna station—don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

  “Ollie, and you look just like the hero I need,” the man told him. He took Rob’s hand and shook it, the dark green waxed jacket he wore rustling as he did. And jodhpurs, Rob noticed, though he tried hard not to. Why did this handsome man named Ollie always have to be in jodhpurs? “Terrified of heights, but always trying to save a damsel in distress—even if she does have a tail and whiskers!”

  “Is it Smudge again?” the landlord called. Ollie’s nod elicited a chorus of long-suffering groans from the drinkers. Then, still holding Rob’s hand, he towed him out into the late afternoon dusk.

  “There.” Ollie pointed to the oak in the middle of the village green, where a black and white cat was sitting quite contentedly among the boughs. At the foot of the tree was an elderly woman, a dish in her hands that was clearly intended to tempt the creature down. “Can you hop up the tree and do the necessary for Mrs. Cooper’s pride and joy?”

  “Don’t see why not!” Rob grinned.