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  Text copyright ©2018 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Roxanne St. Claire. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Barefoot Bay remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Roxanne St. Claire, or their affiliates or licensors.

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  A Sailor’s Second Chance

  A Barefoot Bay Kindle World Novella

  Gail Chianese

  Table of Contents

  Welcome to Barefoot Bay Kindle World

  Dedication

  Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Books by Gail Chianese

  Welcome to Barefoot Bay Kindle World

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome to Barefoot Bay Kindle World, a place for authors to write their own stories set in the tropical paradise that I created! For these books, I have only provided the setting of Mimosa Key and a cast of characters from my popular Barefoot Bay series. That’s it! I haven’t contributed to the plotting, writing, or editing of A Sailor’s Second Chance. This book is entirely the work of Gail Chianese, a wonderful author I’m thrilled to welcome back to Barefoot Bay.

  In keeping with the “military theme” of this Barefoot Bay Kindle World launch, Gail gives us a heartbreaking look into the stress and cracks in a military marriage. After ten years of divorce, a former Navy wife finds herself sharing a one-bedroom villa with her ex-husband, and this time, they can’t walk away. Forced to forgive and face the problems of their past, these two have an emotional and life-changing second chance in Barefoot Bay.

  Roxanne St. Claire

  PS. If you love this island paradise, be sure to pick up one eighteen titles I’ve written set in Barefoot Bay. And now there are seventy-five novellas in the Barefoot Bay Kindle World penned by other authors in the same setting. Come for a short visit or lose yourself on the beautiful beach and fall in love over and over again! All the books are listed at www.roxannestclaire.com.

  Dedication

  For my hero and husband, CWO Jim Chinese, USN Ret.

  I knew when I said, “I do” there were going to be interesting times ahead.

  Maybe not dealing with multiple cases of chicken pox alone, or four moves in eight years, snowstorms, or sleeping next to an empty pillow quite so often.

  But I’d do it all over again just for you.

  Love you, honey.

  Acknowledgement

  No book is truly ever written alone and I’m thankful that I have an amazing group who not only supports me, but keeps me sane and tells me to go left when I think I should go right (99.9% of the time, they are dead on). You might have seen their names before and if you haven read them, I highly recommend them all. So many thanks to: Jamie Beck, Jamie K. Schmidt, Sadie Hartwell/Susannah Hardy, Megan Ryder, J. Monkeys, Katy Lee, and Regina Kyle for their invaluable input and help, as always.

  I also wouldn’t be doing this fabulous writing gig if it wasn’t for the support of my family: the aforementioned hero, Jim, my three fabulous kids who understand when I close the door to leave me alone and always, always tell me “You can do it, Mom” and to my mom. I love you all.

  But I wouldn’t be writing these fun novellas if not for the awesome, Roxanne St. Claire. I’m so thankful to call her my friend and for all the wonderful stories she shares with us, because yes! I am a huge fan as well. Huge hugs, Rocki.

  And no acknowledgement would be complete without thanking you fabulous, awesome, amazing and super supportive readers. Thank you for falling in love with Barefoot Bay and for the love you’ve shown to us KW authors. I hope you enjoy Casey and Colette’s story.

  XX ~ Gail

  Chapter One

  Most days life handed Colette Thomas lemons. Then there were those days when life was all sunshine and roses. You know, pretty good, but a few pricks thrown in to keep her on her toes. As she climbed out of the airport shuttle and took her first look at Casa Blanca Resort and Spa, she decided this had to be a mistake.

  The place looked like something right out of Morocco with its white stucco walls and red tile roof. And talk about lush! Everywhere she looked were gorgeous plants with vibrant flowers in bloom. It was like she’d stepped into another world. Even the humidity didn’t seem as bad as back home in Pensacola.

  There was no way this was the right place. As Colette turned to speak to the driver a valet walked up to her.

  “Ms. Thomas?” At her nod, he held out his hand for her bag. “Welcome to Casa Blanca.”

  Holy smokes. She was going to kill Kibble, her best friend, when she got back. The place was way too much. She’d have to find a way to pay him back, but for the next seven days she was going to enjoy every minute of her vacation.

  She followed the young valet, who couldn’t have been more than eighteen, into the lobby and fought to keep her jaw from dropping.

  The marble floor looked like glass. An intricate Moroccan tapestry graced one wall, while the registration desk ran along another. Open glass doors led off to the restaurant, Junonia, where the most delicious aroma teased her senses and reminded her it had been hours since she’d eaten. Another door had a sign welcoming guests to The Eucalyptus Spa.

  She should totally get a massage and facial while she was there, even though it might mean selling her soul to pay Kibble back for the trip. Another door opened to a boutique that did not carry your typical, touristy beach paraphilia. Man, was her credit card going to be crying by the end of the week. But what the heck, she’d deserved the break and a little TLC.

  “Welcome.” A gorgeous woman with strawberry-blond curls, warm brown eyes, a sprinkling of freckles and one of the most welcoming smiles Colette had ever seen greeted her. “You must be C. Thomas?”

  “It’s Colette, thank you.” She took the woman’s outstretched hand and wondered again if she’s was dreaming. She did okay as an admin assistant, but this place was completely out of her league.

  “Colette. I love that name. Well, welcome. I’m Lacey Walker, the owner.” She looked down to her computer screen before flashing that smile of hers again. “Everything is all set. You’ll be staying in the Blue Casbah villa. Adam has already taken your bag down for you. If you’re hungry, the restaurant is open and does offer room service. And if you’re in the mood to take advantage of this beautiful day, your villa does have a private pool, and of course, there’s the beach.”

  All she could do was nod. A villa! A private pool? That was it. It was official; Jake Kibble was the best friend a girl could ever ask for. As if she didn’t know that already after everything he’d already done for her.

  Colette thanked the owner, took her key and walked out into the late afternoon sunshine. She followed the map, which took her past the main pool and stopped to check out the pristine beach. A girl could get used to a view like that. Miles and miles of turquoise water stretched out before her. She pulled off her sandals and stepped onto the beach. Warm sand squished between her toes. A slightly briny breeze caressed her skin and all the tension and stress of the past few weeks melted away.

  The beach had always been Colette’s sanctuary. It called to her. Soothed her mind and soul and served as a good reminder that there was more than just her life and problems. For the past few months she’d spent mo
re time than she could count sitting on the beach that was part of Naval Air Station Pensacola where she worked.

  Sadly, the minute she returned to work the problem was still there to greet her. Usually with a scowl and a grunt.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled, pushing all thoughts of home and him away. This week was about getting her head on straight and putting her ex-husband behind her, once and for all.

  As if that’s possible. It’d been seven years and she hadn’t managed to forget him.

  A couple of kids, probably about five and seven, ran smack into her legs knocking her down. They stared down at her, eyes big and round. Both apologized before their parents ran up to her.

  “Are you okay, “ the mom asked.

  Colette nodded and bushed the sand off of her palms. “No worries. I’m tougher than I look.” She’d had to be.

  The dad, a good looking guy with dark blond hair, who reminded her too much of the person she was trying to forget, knelt down by the kids. “What do we say to the nice lady after mowing her down?”

  “We’re sorry,” they said in unison.

  They were adorable with their twin dimples, and impish smiles. Both kept stealing glances toward the pool and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why they were in such a hurry. She assured all parties involved she was fine and watched the happy family as they continued on their way.

  That. That right there is why I need to forget him. Until I stop loving Casey Thomas and move on, I’ll never have that—a family of my own.

  Pushing up off the beach, she brushed the grit from her tush and hands and strolled down the beach to her private villa. A small laugh escaped as the thought ran through her mind. This was so unlike her. She didn’t splurge. She didn’t buy designer bags or shoes or clothes. She cut coupons. If she travelled, it was by coach class and she stayed in mid-range hotels that didn’t offer amenities like spas and private pools. Nope, this wasn’t her world, but for the next seven days it couldn’t hurt to pretend it was.

  After her vacation, she’d face reality again. She’d pay off her credit card and pay back Kibble. Then, she’d head to the courthouse and finally file those papers to take back her maiden name. Colette Kersch. It’d been a long time since she’d heard that name…not since she’d looked into warm, deep brown eyes and said, “I do.”

  Instead of dwelling on the past, Colette focused on the present and followed the stone path up to the orange door with blue trim that welcomed her to the Blue Casbah villa. She opened the door, walked in and dropped her purse as her mouth hung open in shock.

  Pure, opulent luxury. Cream marble floors, an inviting sofa that screamed, “sleep on me,” along with a full kitchen greeted her. French doors led to the sparkling infinity pool that was all hers and had a view of the Gulf of Mexico. She wandered around, letting her fingers trail over the buttery soft leather couch. Inside the fridge was a chilled bottle of white wine. The counter held a plate of chocolates with a welcome note.

  She was going to gain ten pounds in one week and didn’t give a hoot about it.

  She threw open the double doors and gawked at the king-sized four-poster bed surrounded by sheer drapes. The marble floors continued here, but strategically placed were lush oriental carpets. A peek in the bathroom had her whimpering at the Jacuzzi tub built for two.

  What was Kibble thinking? This was a villa designed for a couple…probably one on their honeymoon. Such a waste.

  “Well,” she said to no one, “for this week you’ll be my personal oasis. Maybe I’ll meet someone. Have a torrid affair, bringing him back here to ravish or be ravished and forget all about him. I’ll return home and say, “Casey? Casey who? Never heard of him.”

  Yeah, right.

  More like she’d read a few books, get sunburnt by the pool and lose herself in that delicious looking bed. But hey, at least she’d be rested and look fabulous when she returned.

  ~*~

  Casey stumbled along the path, following the map the receptionist had given him. He could hear the surf rush the shore, but honestly, he was too flipping tired to give a care right then. All he craved was a good night of uninterrupted sleep.

  Not a lot to ask for.

  Except, he hadn’t had one since he’d reported in to his new duty station in February. Could anyone really blame him for being a little short tempered? He’d dare any of them to go three months without sleep and see how they felt.

  Seeing her five days a week for the next three years equaled sheer hell. He’d have rather gone to Diego Garcia—a tiny island in the middle of nowhere—or even back to the sandbox. Neither was an option. As he saw it, he had two choices: continue to be a grouchy prick that no one liked or get over her and get on with his life.

  Sounded easy, but if he hadn’t accomplished the second option in the past ten years he didn’t know how he’d pull it off in the next seven days.

  Not that he had much choice. Getting called on the carpet by the CO wasn’t on his list of favorite things to do. Thankfully the old man had given him a chance, ordered him to take a week and clear his head, with strict orders to return with a new attitude.

  He’d thought about heading North to see his family, except he didn’t want to see the looks of pity in his family’s eyes. He could have stayed home, but hey, who was he to turn down a free trip?

  From what he could see of the place, it’d be an enjoyable week. Not that he needed much: some sand, some surf, some sleep and a cold one and not seeing Colette.

  Fuck. Even saying her name in his head made his heart ache and his blood boil. She’d been everything he’d ever dreamed of and more, funny, smart, kind, and beautiful. He’d thought they’d had a good marriage. A strong bond that would defeat all that came their way. He’d never been so wrong before or since.

  He pulled out his key card and flashed it in front of the lock on his villa and stepped into the blissfully cool villa. A soft light glowed in the kitchen area. Nice touch. He dropped his bag and headed that way. Hopefully they stocked the full-size fridge with beer as he could really use one after the day he’d had.

  “Now this is how you welcome guests,” he said to no one as he popped the top off his favorite brand and poured the cold beer down his throat.

  The overhead light flickered on and he froze.

  “Don’t move. I’m armed and I’ve called security.”

  Fuck me. He’d know that voice anywhere. It’d haunted his dreams and drove him to distraction.

  He turned around to find Colette in worn tee holding a hairdryer. “You planning on giving me a deadly blow job?” He nodded to the weapon in her hand.

  “Casey? What are you doing here?”

  He noticed she hadn’t lowered her weapon.

  “I was thinking the same thing. I mean, I know the place advertises as being a full service hotel, but I don’t remember seeing scantily clad ex-wives on the brochure.”

  “Ha, too funny. Casey, I’m serious. What are you doing in my villa?” She pursed those pouty lips and his body responded, but not in the way it should.

  “What makes you say this is your villa?” he asked.

  “Well, to start with the reservation was in my name: C. Thomas.”

  He took another slow pull of his beer and let his gaze skim down her bare legs. Legs he remembered all too well wrapped around him. “Last I checked, it was my name first. Speaking of which, why didn’t you change your name back?”

  “I was here first. And why are you here.”

  She avoided the question he really wanted to know the answer to: if she hated being married to him so much, why did she keep his name? Not that most important thing at that moment. What was she doing in his room? And how did she end up at the same resort, at the same time?

  “Casey?” her voice brought him back to the present situation. “You need to leave. Call the front desk and tell them they made a mistake and get this straightened out. I’m tired and want to get back to bed.”

  Tell me about it.
r />   She leaned against the doorjamb with the deadly hairdryer in front of her and nodded to the phone.

  “Fine.” He tossed the empty bottle in the trash and picked up the receiver. A few minutes later he hung up and pressed his thumbs against his eyes before turning around.

  “According to the reception desk, they only have one room reserved for a C. Thomas. There are no other villas or rooms available at the resort.”

  “Then I guess you’ll have to find a room at some other hotel.” She shifted and her shirt rose a couple of inches, exposing more creamy skin.

  “Colette, it’s almost midnight. I’ve put in a full day at work and drove nine hours down here. The room is in my name. You find another hotel room.”

  “I can’t.” She chewed on her lower lip, a sign he remembered that signaled she was stressed and to the point of tears. “I don’t have a car.”

  “Fine, but can we work this out in the morning? I’m so tired, I can’t see straight.”

  She glanced back through the double doors to what he presumed was the bedroom. “Take the couch. We’ll deal with it in the morning.”

  Chapter Two

  She flung the puffy, white comforter away and flipped onto her back. Before he had arrived Colette had been sleeping like a baby. No, better. She’d been lost in blissful, dreamless slumber. For the first time in weeks, Casey hadn’t invaded her dreams. Now, he was live and in person sleeping on her villa sofa. How was she supposed to sleep?

  The once comfortable bed irritated her. Slipping out past the sheer curtains, she stepped out onto her balcony with the view of the ocean. A crescent moon twinkled overhead, shining down on the water, beckoning her to come play. Maybe a swim would help? She had enough energy bouncing around inside her that she could probably swim to Cuba and back. But she wasn’t stupid enough to go swimming in the Gulf of Mexico alone at two in the morning.