Page 134 of Capri

Well, okay. I guess I’m getting out of here tomorrow.

Maybe this will be a helpful distraction.

* * *

This is awkward.

Somewhere on my yacht is a couple…fucking…and enjoying a day full ofprivacy.

Is it awkward because I’m the random dude supervising from afar, or because I wish it was me?

Fuck. I miss sex. Sex with Capri, to be specific.

This boat brings back so many memories. It was the first time in years I felt something other than the need to bury myself in a woman. I wanted that too. But god, I wanted to know her bone-deep—pain and happiness level deep. Peel back all the layers of Capri Meadows that made her the most striking woman I’d ever met.

Now, it’s come full circle. I’m alone and dreaming of the woman I can never have.

I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do to make myself scarce, so I hide in the cabin of the boat, staring at the textured wall in front of me, likely driving Antonio crazy.

Not my best look, but I’ll do anything to pass the time. Twelve hours is a long time to be locked in a tiny room. Good thing I don’t have claustrophobia.

An unexpected ping hits the cabin window overlooking the pool area, causing me to jolt and my defenses to rise.

What the hell was that? We’re in the middle of the Mediterranean. There’s no civilization other than the couple on board for miles. Although I didn’t exactly get to meet the couple, they were boarded before I was, and I highly doubt they’re the ones throwing rocks on board.

I’ve been on this boat more days than I have on land, and that’s never happened. My mind plays through the possibilities. It wasn’t big enough to crack the window, but it’s definitely enough to have me questioning what’s going on out there.

I’m technically supposed to stay away, but curiosity gets the best of me.

I’ll just take a look, make sure everything is alright, then go back into hiding.

Let’s hope I don’t catch an eye full of something kinky.

It’s too damn early for that.

I pull the sliding door open and step out onto the pool deck, my eyes scanning the perimeter. I’ll search the entire deck level, and if I find nothing, call it a loss and forget about it.

I stroll to the front of the deck first, scoping out the infinity pool and lounge area…nothing. That must mean the couple on board is in the back or their designated cabin room. The only spare room we offer to guests at a cost.

My initial thought is maybe Antonio was working on something and it broke or flung in the air.

I circle toward the backside of the boat; a place I rarely spend any time. A soft sound increases in volume the closer I get, and I realize it’s music. Not the alternative music I typically play on board, but contemporary music.

Country music, to be specific.

What the hell? No shade, no tea to the couple onboard but country wouldn’t be my first choice.

I’m not sure what I expected, but it damn sure wasn’t to find the beautiful Capri Meadows sprawled out on a lounge chair in one of her famous thong bikinis.

My chest plummets. What is she doing here, and how did she get on board a private booking?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This can’t be happening.

I rub my beard, contemplating how to approach this—approach her, before spinning around to fucking hide.

Jesus Christ. I’m a coward. Running away from the woman who hurt me.

“Hey, Captain.”

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