Incredible Dreams

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Incredible Dreams Page 9

by Sandra Edwards


  He shook his head in a casual response. “No. I’d always been intrigued by planes though. So, when given the chance, I took the entrance exam for the Army Air Corps’ Aviation Cadet Program.”

  “And that was it? They made you a pilot?” Some might have thought she was being sarcastic, but Jack knew better. Her genuine interest showed in the light in her expression.

  “Well, no...it wasn’t quite that easy.” He paused, fond thoughts filling his mind, back to the time when he’d found his calling. “First I was ordered to Pre-flight Training, see. Myself, along with a bunch of other guys underwent the hell of numerous tests and screenings in hopes of being assigned to pilot training, instead of navigator or bombardier.”

  “And of course, everybody coveted the pilot training positions.”

  “Yes. As you can imagine, I was pleased to attain one of those positions in the pilot training program. A couple of weeks later, I was sitting in the pilot’s seat of a PT-13.”

  “What do you think motivated their selection process? I mean that doesn’t seem like much time for a thorough evaluation. What do you think made them choose you over someone else?” Jack didn’t take her frankness as rude or biting. Her prying nature enchanted and delighted him all at the same time. Her genuine interest in him and his world was refreshing.

  “Well, it probably had something to do with the fact that I was always looking to get into a scrap, see.” His laughter echoed on the wind. Her curiosity, albeit intriguing, surprised him. Most women were against his career choice, but not Isabelle. She was more interested in what made him tick, rather than how and if she could fix him. He liked that.

  “So, Jack Baker, you got a girl tucked away somewhere?” she asked out of the blue, catching him off guard.

  He recovered with a quick, snappy chuckle. “I am a one-woman man, Isabelle.” He turned on his side and caressed her neck, teasing her with the possibility of a touch to her breasts.

  “Okay, so then why aren’t you married?” she asked with bold confidence. She’d been fishing for something all along, and here it was.

  “Well—” He chose his words with wise exactness. “—I guess I just never met the right woman, see.”

  Jack’s thoughts traveled back to Norma, an old girlfriend back home. Being here now, with Isabelle lying naked in his arms, he had no regrets about leaving Norma behind.

  “I was engaged once.” How’d that get loose?

  “Really?” Her tone chilled, matching her body, stiffening in response to his declaration.

  “It wasn’t meant to be,” he said. “She wanted things from me that I couldn’t give, see.”

  “Like?” Isabelle’s voice trailed off into an effective snare.

  Still, Jack knew a trap when he saw one. She wanted to know his inadequacies and she disguised her interest with idle curiosity. It showed ingenuity. He liked that.

  He relaxed and cuddled her closer. “She wanted me to leave the Air Crops.” Right now, he was thankful for that. Otherwise, he would never have met Isabelle. “Once I got a taste of flying, I knew I couldn’t stop. The Air Corps seemed the easiest way for me to keep doing that.”

  “So, asking you to stop flying would be like asking me to stop singing?” She got it. She understood. “I couldn’t stop singing, any easier than I could stop breathing.” She definitely got it.

  “Yep. It’s part of the package.”

  “Who broke it off?”

  “I did.”

  “How long ago was that?” She buried her curiosity inside idle chit-chat. Smart girl.

  “About three years ago.” He paused with quiet emphasis. “She wasn’t the one, Isabelle.”

  “So then, you’re not opposed to marriage?” she asked, stone-faced, giving no clue about whether or not she was open to the idea.

  He shook his head, slow and deliberate. “No. Are you?” He looked at her and their eyes locked.

  “No. At least I don’t think so,” she said, sounding unsure.

  “You don’t sound confident.” He’d like to think that letting her talk about herself, and what she may or may not be like might help her figure some things out.

  “Nothing but the deepest love could ever induce me to marry,” she said, calm and serious. “At least that’s how I feel right now.”

  “When it happens, you want it to be forever.” He understood that. It’s what his parents had, and it’s what he wanted. He hadn’t seriously considered it, until now.

  “Exactly.” She paused, tracing her fingers along his jaw. “Thirty years from now, I still want to be overcome with excitement and joy every time my husband walks into the room.”

  Her smile lit her face, making her irresistible.

  “You’re going to make some lucky bloke a very happy man, Isabelle.” Jack trailed his fingers down her neckline, slowly moving toward her breasts. Envying the notion of another man touching her this way, he groaned and pushed the nagging jealousy aside.

  “Well, right now, I’m only concerned with my effect over you.” She arched toward him, as if urging him to do with her as he pleased.

  “You, Isabelle, have my undivided attention.” He chuckled and leaned down, taking her nipple into his mouth.

  He grew hard against her leg. She inhaled sharply at the contact and turned toward him, encouraging him.

  He climbed above her—flesh against flesh, man against woman—and claimed her, body and soul. She wrapped her legs around his buttocks, riding him. When he poured himself into her for a second time, she relaxed with a cosmic intensity and a heavy sigh.

  “God...” She praised him in a weak and trembling whisper. “You’re going to spoil me for any other man. No one’s ever going to be able to compete with you.”

  “That’s good to know, see.” He started to retreat, involuntarily, from inside her. Accepting it with a soft moan, he rolled to her side.

  She was one talented lady, much too versed in the art of lovemaking. Jack wasn’t stupid or naïve. She wasn’t a virgin, but he didn’t care. All was right with the world because of Isabelle Miller.

  Typically, right about now, Jack would be preparing for a quick getaway. But not this time. All he wanted to do was stay here with Isabelle draped over him. He didn’t want to leave her tonight, tomorrow, or even the next day. He dreaded the moment when they’d find out where she lived because that meant she would go home.

  Oh, well. He had one more day to capture her heart.

  CHAPTER 9

  JACK DIDN’T know if it was the aroma of coffee or the faint smell of bacon that woke him. They both pleased him as he lay in bed.

  Another whiff or two inspired him to throw the covers back and leap to his feet. He plucked his boxers off the floor, slid into them. After a few moments in the bathroom cleaning up, he strolled out to the kitchen.

  Seeing Isabelle standing at the stove chipped away at the wall he’d erected around the center of his heart. Something that, up until now, had protected him against female invasion. She had infiltrated his front lines of defense and not only was he going to have trouble evicting her—he didn’t want to.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, striding toward her. Notions of sex over breakfast roused his brain and his loins awake.

  Was there anything about this woman, anything she did that wasn’t sexy?

  Spatula in hand, she looked over her shoulder and shot him a quick, appealing grin. “Breakfast?” she said, and turned back to the skillet.

  Jack eased behind her and laced his arms around her. She turned her head just enough to give him a quick peck on the lips.

  “So, how do you like your eggs?” she asked, reaching for the nearby carton.

  Jack peeled the egg from her hand. “Fried.” He gave it an easy, one-handed whack against the cast iron skillet and dumped it into the bacon grease.

  The egg sizzled in the pan, and Izzy’s desire seared heat against her skin as Jack sprinkled kisses along her neck.

  “So, you change your mind?” She snickered, sh
ivers of desire roaming her body. “You’re not hungry?”

  “Oh, I’m hungry, see.” He slipped the spatula from her hand and raked the bacon grease over the frying eggs. Jack used his free hand to tug her buttocks against him. She encouraged him to grind her against his loins. He let out a slow, primeval groan, encouraging her to keep teasing him. But that was okay because she had every intention of following through.

  He was doing a proper job of arousing her as well. His hands mirrored savvy expertise, voyaging over her breasts. In an instant, and without warning, he withdrew, keeping their bodies close enough to spark the heated passion rippling between them. He grabbed an empty plate and dished the eggs out of the skillet.

  “Let’s have some breakfast.” He sat the plate down on the counter and spun Izzy around to face him. “Then we’ll do dessert, see.” He enticed her with a twitch of the eyebrows.

  “You’d better eat up then. You’re going to need the energy.”

  Jack handed her a full plate and chased her out of the kitchen. Izzy giggled, racing toward the table.

  He scooted his chair close to hers, rested one hand on her knee and ate with the other. “You want to go for a ride?” he asked between bites.

  “Sure. Where are we going?”

  “I’ve got to run out to the airfield.” He paused, a mischievous smile crossing his face. “I have to check on my other girl, see.”

  She could feel him watching her, waiting for her reaction. All she gave him was a trivial nod. “Wow, two women in one day? You’re really on a roll.”

  He laughed and leaned toward her, resting his arm along the back of her chair. “The three of us? We’re going out together today,” he said, kissing her cheek.

  His attempt to get a rise out of her had started off as cute, but now it was becoming tiresome. She plastered on her best poker face, and said, “Well, I hope you’ve got a lot of money, because I’m going to be an expensive date today.”

  His laughter echoed through the air. She bit back a smile. While his attempt at jealousy was amusing, and she knew he was kidding, the idea of sharing him with another woman didn’t sit well with Izzy.

  Jack may have made a mistake with his excessive teasing, even though Isabelle had handled it well. She’d thrown him a marvelous comeback, but he got the feeling she’d grown tired of the banter quickly. Well, he’d have to see what he could do to fix his blunder. Maybe if he stopped teasing and delivered the goods, that would do the trick.

  He grinned, resting one hand on the steering wheel and guiding his Chevy along the highway. He tugged Isabelle with his free hand, coaxing her closer.

  She followed his lead and slid across the seat, cozying up to him.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispered against her ear, “you’ll like Betsy.”

  She flashed him a no-I-won’t glare.

  “Do you trust me?”

  She remained silent much longer than he’d expected her to, and that started him worrying. Maybe he’d miscalculated.

  After what seemed like an eternity, she responded. “Yes.” Her breath breezed against his face. “I trust you, Jack.”

  Her blind faith moved him to let the rest of the fragile wall around his heart crumble into ruins. Finally his heart was free and it opened up to Isabelle. Jack smiled and slowed the car to a crawl rolling up to the gate at Parker Field.

  The guard saluted. “Captain Baker.”

  Jack nodded, waved off a salute and tapped the gas, passing through the gate. He glanced at Isabelle and winked.

  “What exactly are we doing?” she asked, a hint of doubt clouding her words.

  “We’re going to get you some new memories, see.”

  She didn’t say anything. Instead, she let the look of confusion do the talking.

  “It’s high time we get you some new memories to fill your head. And I want them to be good ones.” Jack hated that he couldn’t give Isabelle back her memories. And if she never recovered them, he wanted to make sure all her new ones were worth having. He doubted anything would make up for the loss of the old ones, but from here on out he wanted them to be sensational.

  Parking the car in front of an unmarked hangar, although unidentified, he knew it well. It had served as his squadron’s headquarters for nearly a year.

  Jack opened the car door and paused to glance at Izzy. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” He got out and didn’t give her a chance to challenge him. Not that he thought she would. He believed her when she said she trusted him.

  Jack trotted inside the hangar and smiled when he saw his P-51 Mustang on the far side. Kramer, the squadron’s top mechanic, strolled out from behind Betsy. That wiped the smile off Jack’s face.

  “Baker.” The mechanic approached Jack. He wasn’t smiling. That was always bad.

  Jack discussed Betsy’s condition with the mechanic and buried his hands inside his trouser pockets before heading back outside.

  He laid his arms along the car door, leaned down and looked at Isabelle. “Betsy’s a little under the weather today. I’m afraid she won’t be joining us.” With a wink and a soft smile, he opened the door and held a hand out to her. “But I still want you to meet her.”

  She laid her hand in his and pushed herself out of the car. “Sorry to hear Betsy’s not feeling well.”

  They strolled inside the hangar. Jack wrapped her arm around his and led her through the maze of aircraft. He stopped in front of the P-51 and turned to her. “Isabelle, meet Betsy,” he said with a quick wave of the hand.

  She hesitated for a moment and turned to Jack, pointing at the aircraft. “Were you going to take me up in this?”

  “I was.” Jack laid a hand underneath the bottom of the plane. “But she’s not ready.”

  “Betsy. That’s an interesting name.”

  “My mother. Betsy is my mother.”

  Isabelle stepped closer to the aircraft and touched her fingers to the cool steel, resting her hand near Jack’s. “That would’ve been such fun. I think you, me, and Betsy...we would’ve had a great time,” she said. “Can I get a rain check?”

  “A rain check?” He understood the term, but still it came across as odd. Another of those idiosyncrasies that accompanied Izzy’s jumbled memory. “Of course.”

  “Baker.” The mechanic appeared beside him. “We got some new dinghies in. I’m going to switch out the old one for a new one.”

  “Okay,” Jack said, thinking nothing of it.

  “Dinghies?” Izzy echoed just above a whisper, her shoulders shaking. Her face had paled and worry darkened her eyes. She looked like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words.

  “You okay?” Jack touched a hand to her arm.

  “Yeah.” She paused, raking her hair out of her face. “I just got the weirdest sensation. What’s a dinghy for?”

  Jack considered telling her, but thought better of it after weighing the outcome of a truthful answer. “Just standard equipment.” The dinghy was there in case he crashed over the ocean. But what if he didn’t crash over the ocean? He’d heard that argument before. “Nothing for you to worry about, see.” He clasped his hand around Izzy’s arm just about the elbow and nudged her to the other side of the hangar. “So, you want to get really adventurous?” His voice echoed with a mischievous laugh.

  “Is it legal?”

  “Quite.” He moved to the corner and paused beside the tarp covering his bike. With care and precision he peeled back the canvas.

  “Oh, wow, an old Indian.” Izzy took in the sight of the red and black motorcycle.

  “Old—” Jack said, on the verge of being offended. “I’ll have you know...this baby is barely a year old.”

  Anxiety and fear of the unknown clouded her expression and wrinkled her brow. He regretted snapping at her.

  Her stature shrank, as if she were melting before his eyes. What if her knees buckled?

  Swiftly, he scooped her into his arms and moved toward the front of the hangar. Mad at himself, he took it out on th
e office door, kicking it open. He settled her into a nearby chair and dropped to one knee. “Isabelle.” He called her name softly and brushed chestnut locks from her face. Her hair felt soft and silky against his fingertips.

  She scanned the office, a fearful look crossing her face. “This place gives me the creeps.” Her voice cracked and she shuddered, still looking around. “Can we get out of here?” She settled her gaze on Jack.

  “Sure.” He pulled her to her feet. “Maybe I should just take you home.”

  “Home,” she muttered, an unmistakable longing lingered in her voice.

  Great, now he had her thinking about home—a place she couldn’t identify. Damn it. If he could just stop doing that. Every time he reminded her that she had no medical recourse, he wanted to kick himself.

  “Someone’ll be at the Cool Cat soon. Let’s get going so we can find out where home is,” he said, leading her outside and to his car.

  Jack had high aspirations when he pulled the car to a stop in front of the Cool Cat. He wasn’t sure how it was supposed to happen, but somehow this was going to lead to Izzy getting her memory back. If he kept telling himself that, it just might happen.

  He climbed out of the car, wondering if she’d wait for him to open her door. When he got to the passenger’s side, she was still waiting. Good. He smiled. Flaunting his smoothest façade, he eased the car door open and offered his hand.

  She finally got it. This wasn’t a ploy on his part, it was something he was used to doing. She accepted his hand and stepped out of the car.

  She tangled her arm around his and laced their fingers together. As they strolled toward the Cool Cat, he smiled and shot her a quick wink. He opened the door and waited for her to enter first.

  The stench of beer, alcohol and stale cigarettes blindsided him the moment they stepped inside. She moaned a soft hint of disapproval. Jack had never smoked and didn’t particularly care for the smell. He was pleased that Isabelle didn’t seem to like it either.

  Charlie, the club’s owner, stood behind the bar, mopping down the counter. He reacted to the opening door and looked up.

  “You’re okay?” A smile crossed Charlie’s face. “Your sister was here after you left Saturday, looking for you.”

 

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