“Sam? Come on. Open up.” Jensen’s deep tone boomed through the door. “I know you’re in there. Your Jeep is in the driveway.”
Crud. She knew she should’ve parked in the garage. But that would’ve taken her through the TV room…Mitch’s room. She wasn’t ready to face those memories yet. The blue-ray player was still apart on a desk in the corner where he’d been studying the inside. She would eventually have to buy a new one. No way was she going to disturb something he’d actually touched. Besides, he could put it back together whenever the hell she managed to find him.
Now the SEAL was knocking, loud thuds boomed through the small foyer with a decibel that hurt her ears. Cripes. He was going to beat the door off its hinges.
“Come on, Sam. I’m not going away.”
With a curse on her lips, she got up, stomped to the door and whipped it open before pivoting around to march back to the couch. The room spun wildly out of focus with startling speed. Her hand shot to the wall to steady herself. In a flash, Jensen was by her side, scooping her up to carry her to the couch.
“Easy there.” He set her down and stared into her eyes. “When’s the last time you ate?”
She blinked, trying to remember. His blue gaze traveled over the plates of untouched food sitting on her coffee table where Maria and Jenny had left them throughout the week.
“What day is it?”
“Fuck,” he murmured, gaze glued to hers again.
He seemed really upset.
“I ate on base.”
Again with the cursing. Guess it’s true what they say about sailors. God, she was getting silly. Maybe he was right, she needed to eat and had managed a few bites here and there, but nothing big. If only she could keep something down.
“Sam, that was five days ago.”
“Oh.”
It was all a blur. Once she got home and didn’t have to put up a constant front, time sort of drifted.
“Yeah, oh. Now, stay there while I get you something,” he ordered.
Her desire to leave was as strong as her desire to eat. Non-existent. She was still sitting there, staring at nothing, trying her best to feel nothing. Nothing was good. Nothing didn’t hurt like hell.
“Here.” He shoved a glass of something, not nothing, in her hand, then pushed it to her lips. “Drink.”
She did, then nearly brought it back up on the sheer putrid taste. “Oh, man, Jensen, what are you trying to do? Poison me?”
He chuckled, easing the glass back to her lips. “Come on. It’s not that bad.”
“No.” Swallowing the last of it, she gave him a look. “Not if you like slimy drain cleaner.”
“It’s an egg and—”
“Don’t tell me,” she cut him off, shoving the cup at his chest. “I’m having enough trouble keeping it down not knowing.”
She settled back against the couch and closed her eyes. Her head didn’t hurt so much now. Cripes, she hadn’t even realized it hurt until the pounding started to subside.
“Thanks.” She sighed. “You’ve done your duty. You can go.”
“No. I can’t.”
Her eyes flew open to find him sitting on the coffee table, their knees almost touching, his steel blue gaze boring deep. “Why not?”
“Don’t you know?”
She shook her head, completely at a loss. At this point, she was lucky she remembered her name. Right now, she was betting on Lost. Or Hollow. Yeah, Hollow was the perfect name for her now.
Large, calloused hands covered hers and squeezed. She yanked free. He was warm. She didn’t want warm. Not from him. Not from anyone. Since her last trip to Vella Lavella, she’d avoided any kind of physical contact.
“Sam, don’t. You can’t hold it in,” he said quietly.
Yes, yes she could. What she couldn’t do was breathe. Once again, air was finding it hard making it to her lungs. She pushed him aside and shot off the couch, intending to go…where? Where could she go? You can’t out run pain. It followed. God, it followed.
Strong arms came around her and she found herself crushed to Jensen’s chest. “It’s all right, Sam. Let it out.”
Her eyes burned. “No. If I start…I…won’t…be able…to stop,” she said, still trying to draw in air.
“Yes, you will,” he quietly murmured, hand softly stroking her hair.
Mitch did that on their last day.
Mitch.
Could it be? She drew back to look at the mechanic. He was a little shorter, but broader and more muscular than Mitch. And his eyes, though blue, they were more of a grey-blue not a blue-green.
Oh my God. What am I doing?
Closing her eyes, tears seeped through the lids. This was Jensen. Not Mitch. Was she always going to look for him in every guy? God, she hoped not. Besides, she didn’t want another guy. She wanted Mitch.
Why did he have to die?
“Why did I have to kill him?”
“Christ, Sam, you didn’t kill him,” Jensen growled, cupping her face.
Another thing Mitch used to do.
“You kept history on course,” he said. “That’s all.”
A sob escaped her throat. The minute she’d gotten back, she’d run upstairs and checked the clippings. Nothing had changed. Everything was word for word. “I miss him. I want him back. Okay? I just want him back.”
“I know,” Jensen murmured, sinking to the floor with her when her legs gave out.
He positioned his back against the couch, pulled her onto his lap, and held tight while she did as he’d suggested and let go of her control.
***
It won’t be long now.
Soon he’d be reunited with the woman who haunted his dreams, both conscious and unconscious for years. Dreams and memories. Wonderful memories. Hot memories. She shadowed his life, coming between any relationship he ever tried to form, making him want more. Making him want her. Until he remembered exactly who he was and who she was…
Samantha.
Anna.
Then the waiting had begun. He’d remembered too soon. For several years now he’d known where to find her. She was a phone call away. A flight away. Once, he’d even taken the flight and watched from a distance, gripping the fence, longing to hop over and touch her, feel her, taste her again. But, things had to be set into motion. Things he didn’t dare screw up. He couldn’t approach until the right time.
Finally, the right time was now.
He sipped his coffee and studied her photo in the hall on the wall of pilot photos. God, she was so beautiful. He loved how her eyes would come to life when they’d rest on him. Her soft laughter, heated touch, the way she’d catch her bottom lip between her teeth when he was deep inside her. Christ. He swallowed a groan. The waiting was fucking killing him.
But all that was about to end, and their future was about to begin. His third with her, her second…ish with him. He’d been John with Anna and Mitch with Samantha. Now he hoped to continue where they’d left off.
Coming here, he had been prepared to fly, looking forward to flying anything they sent his way. Thank Christ he’d come back as a pilot. Although, he truthfully didn’t care if he’d slung burgers as he’d told Samantha on their last day. He said he’d find her and he had.
Several images from several centuries flashed through his mind. It was like he was slowly waking up from a very, very long sleep. The room and everyone in it had faded as the slide show of his past lives came alive. He was a pilot in the South Pacific, before that he was a merchant in Connecticut, just after the Civil War.
How was any of that possible?
He thrust his free hand through his hair and expelled a breath. For the longest time, he’d thought he was going crazy. Christ, at one point, he’d actually thought he was going fucking nuts. He hadn’t understood the flashes from the past, or how he could remember living each of those lives. Until the day he’d come across an article on reincarnation, and began to research in earnest. That was when things started to make sense. The dr
eams weren’t dreams at all, they were memories. His memories from two lifetimes. Everything became stronger and his true mission, his true self became clear.
And she had always been there. Always in his mind. Even when he hadn’t recognized her. The brown-haired, green-eyed beauty had haunted.
The worst part was not being able to tell anyone. Not friends, and especially not family. Last thing he needed was to be committed. No, he’d been all alone with the burden, a burden he’d been willing to bear to have her back, to wait until the time was right.
But all of that was in the past. Finally.
He’d made it back. He’d found her, just as he’d promised.
Chapter 20
Christmas was three weeks away.
Sam couldn’t think about it. Whenever she did, rings of pain tightened around her chest until breathing became a luxury. No, she’d rather think about the next test project. Three days of preliminary meetings, then the holiday break before they were due back the middle of January.
Base was busing with activity again. Luckily, she and Maria weren’t late for the first of two meetings that day. Granted, the others were already seated, but the colonel hadn’t entered until they’d taken their seats. That left Maria exactly half a minute to glance at the other pilots, no doubt checking out the fresh meat. Sam wasn’t interested.
Mitch could be one of them, her mind urged, but she didn’t have the energy to look. Let him find her for a change.
It wasn’t until they broke for lunch and introductions and handshakes went around that Sam forced herself to be social. Maria, on the other hand, was enjoying her role of scout a little too much. With each introduction, she studied Sam profusely, waiting to see her reaction. As always, there wasn’t any because none of the men were Mitch.
Later on in the chow line, Maria treated her to a sharp poke to the ribs. “Houston, we have lift off.”
Sam bit back a smile, but didn’t turn around. She just wanted to eat and process the day, not check out another hot pilot.
“Hello. I’m Maria.”
She heard her friend’s introduction, but still Sam didn’t turn around. Her mind was on which chicken had the best chance of remaining in her stomach, southern fried or cacciatore.
“Hi, Maria,” came a rather nice, easy reply. “I’m Rick.”
Maria elbowed her again.
Oh for crying out loud. She twisted around, mouth opened, ready to complain, then promptly swallowed her retort.
“And this is Samantha Sheppard,” Maria introduced, before stepping aside, watching them stare at each other while shaking hands.
Holy Hannah. Sam’s heart jumped to her throat. The guy had the same build and the same eye color as Mitch.
“Nice to meet you, Samantha,” he said in a low, sexy-as-hell voice. “I’m Rick Carson.”
Carson?Oh. My. God.
“H-hello, Rick.”
Thank goodness her tray was on the runner rail in front of the food because Sam surely would’ve dropped it. Now, if she could just get her heart to stop hammering out of control maybe she could hear what he was saying.”
“…lunch?”
Crap. Nope. She missed the whole dang sentence. Her mind still hadn’t gotten past his name. Carson. What where the chances?
Her gaze shot to her smiling friend.
“Of course, Sam would love for you to join her for lunch, Captain Carson,” Maria answered smoothly. “I have other plans, but you two enjoy.”
And five minutes later, Sam sat at a corner table with the handsome pilot, completely at a loss as to what to do next. So, she reached for her water to keep from staring, or worse, reaching out to touch the man. What if it wasn’t him? Or what if it was, and he didn’t remember? Cripes. The last thing she needed was for Captain Mitch-Possible to think she was a lunatic.
“So, are you here to start a new mission?” Brow raised, he studied her from across the table.
She placed her water down and nodded. “Yes. How about you? You’re not in our group.”
He nodded as well. “I’m here on a…different mission.” Sea-green eyes stared deep into hers and his mouth opened as if to say more.
Oh my God. Am I his mission? She gripped the edge of the table and leaned closer. Here it comes. He’s going to say it…
“Could you pass the salt?”
Pass the salt? Sam was about to pass out. She nodded and reached for the shaker on her side of the table. Keep it together, her mind urged. This is a good excuse to touch him. Maybe they needed to touch. She handed him the salt, her fingers brushing his warm, strong hand, and she felt…a warm, strong hand.
Okay, so, would they actually have the same reaction if he was a different man? Maybe they had to create an all new zing.
Or maybe he wasn’t Mitch.
She didn’t know. She was so dang confused. Rick did resemble Mitch. The eyes were the same. The voice was the same, but then again, she’d met several men over the last few weeks that fell into that category.
Still, there was something different about Rick, and she had two days to figure out what that was before they broke for the holidays.
***
It was official. Confusion had become the new norm.
For the past few days Sam tried to concentrate on the new project, managing to ask the right questions at the right time, when in truth her mind kept racing back to Mitch. What she wouldn’t give for this nightmare to be over. She was starting to see him everywhere. Imagine him in every guy to the point she just didn’t know if she’d recognize him if she did meet him.
God…what if she already had and passed him by?
Rubbing her temples, she leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes, and sighed.
“Ah, I know that sound,” Maria said, piloting the Cessna as they headed home for the holiday break. “That captain has you flummoxed.”
She let out another sigh, no sense in playing dumb. Her friend was too astute. “Yes, his last name really threw me. I enjoyed our lunches. But, I just…I don’t know. I have to dissect it all.”
Two days in a row, Rick had joined Sam for lunch, while Maria had mysteriously disappeared for the hour. Bless her, she was a good friend. But her absence was probably unnecessary. Maybe. Sam truthfully didn’t know if the cute captain was Mitch or not. She didn’t ask and he never said.
As a matter of fact, he didn’t talk too much about himself. Rick seemed to want to know everything about her, and Sam had answered, waiting, hoping he’d reveal his true self.
If he was Mitch.
“Dissect? What’s to dissect?” Maria asked, voice rising like her brows. “Same eyes. Same build. Same last name.”
Sam nodded.
“I think you should ask him next month.”
This time Sam snorted. “Right. Hi, Rick. Did you have a good holiday? Oh, and are you the reincarnation of my dead boyfriend? No. I think I’ll forgo the expulsion from the program that would follow.”
Maria chuckled. “Well, then, what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I wish there was a stinking manual.”
Sigh number three filled the small cabin of the plane. She glanced at her watch. They were still five minutes out. It was going to be good to be home. She needed the break. Needed to chill. As for the holidays, she had a plan. It started with N and ended with umbness. Thank goodness for numbness. Normally, she fought it, but for the next few weeks, Sam would embrace the deadness with a reverence. She’d smile and put up a good front for her little nephew, but the rest of the time she planned to crawl in bed and not move until she had to.
“Well, did you feel anything?”
“What?” Sam stared hard at Maria.
“Did Captain Carson make you feel anything?”
Cripes.
“Yeah, confusion and a shit load of pain when I heard his name.” She closed her eyes and sigh number four came to pass. “I’m sorry, Maria. I’m just so tired. And I don’t know…I guess I thought Mitch would find me. That he’d
miraculously appear and everything would be good again.”
Her throat heated, and she bit back a curse. No more crying. She’d shed enough tears to fill the Colorado River three times over.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Sams.” Maria glanced sideways at her, understanding shining in her warm brown eyes. “You’re not the only one looking at everyone different, wondering if it was him.”
Her heart lurched. She reached out and covered her friend’s hand. “I’m sorry, Maria. I don’t want you to have to deal with this hell, too.”
“No. No, don’t be sorry,” her friend insisted. “I just wanted you to know you’re not crazy.”
“Oh, good.” She snickered. “So, it was okay when I was bawling all over Jensen nearly two weeks ago, then suddenly stopped to consider him?”
Maria sucked in enough air to fill three balloons. Large balloons.
“Nooo! You didn’t?” Her shocked tone bounced off the windscreen.
“Didn’t what? Bawl all over him or consider him?” Sam still couldn’t believe the thought had crossed her mind.
“Both.” Maria joined in the snickering.
Sam sobered. “It gets worse.”
“Oh my God. How?”
Okay, that didn’t help. Sam looked at her friend’s appalled expression and wondered if she should continue.
“Come on, you can’t just leave me hanging. What did you do? Sleep with him?”
“What?” Now it was her turn to look appalled. She was sure she wore the expression like a blatant tattoo. “No. God, no. Jensen is just a friend. This wasn’t even about him.”
“You mean you slept with someone else?”
“No. Can’t we get off the sleeping with subject?” She shook her head and drew in a long breath before exhaling an even longer one.
“Of course,” Maria replied, flaps at thirty degrees, she starting landing procedures. “So, what was the ‘it gets worse’ part all about?”
She shook her head, already sorry she brought it up. “I don’t know. I’m sure it was just my imagination.”
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