Okay, yep, definitely enough. Best to drop the subject. It probably had been her imagination, or lingering traces of Mitch she’d felt when she’d picked Carson up outside the main building last week. Definitely best to drop the subject.
Maria reduced power to idle and flare, and they touched down clean and smooth. By the time her friend brought them to a stop and turned in her seat to hit Sam with the famous Maria Garcia stare, she was under control again.
“Oh no you don’t, Sam.”
Too late, she’d unbuckled and slipped out of the plane, slamming the door for a reply. Yeah, she’d felt something, but then she’d met Rick, and although the zing hadn’t happened when they touched, she had felt odd and his looks and his name had thrown her off balance.
God, she was a mess.
She slung her bag over her shoulders, wanting desperately to head straight for her jeep and drive home. Today wasn’t good for socializing. She hoped no one intercepted, but knew chances were slim. Sighing—her favorite pastime of the day—she headed for her vehicle parked in her usual spot between hangars, Maria not far behind. The woman’s boots clip-clopped louder than a Clydesdale on a hardwood floor.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go in and see your dad and brother? Carson might be waiting,” Maria added, trying to make her feel guilty.
It worked, but she still wasn’t going inside.
“I’ll visit them later. Right now, I just want to go home.” Sanctuary wasn’t far away. If she could just make it to the jeep...
Her friend must’ve noted the look on her face and wisely stopped prodding. As they rounded the corner where they’d parked, Sam was just starting to breathe with less tension tightening her chest when a familiar, long absent zing shot through her limbs.
Mitch…
She stopped dead. She could feel him. By God, this time there was no doubt.
She.
Felt.
Mitch.
His presence emanated everywhere, surrounding her with an invisible warmth she’d missed so much.
“Mmm…Adam, Jack and Jensen,” Maria murmured. “Now there’s a homecoming if ever I saw one.”
Cold air funneled into Sam’s throat fast and swift as she sucked in a sharp, frigid breath. All three men were gorgeous, but only one beckoned, drew her in, captured her attention the instant their gazes locked.
Leaning against the hanger, knee bent, foot flat on the wall, he was looking at her with a memorable hunger and longing she felt clear to her toes.
Please don’t let me be dreaming.
She released the breath and blinked. Blue-green eyes stared right back, sending her a look, a look that zapped her strength, made her insides combust, making her feel warm and loved and needed.
“Mitch,” she whispered, barely audible.
“Hello, Samantha.”
Oh God…
She dropped her duffle bag and raced across the lot, throwing herself into his waiting arms. He caught her close and held tight. He was warm and breathing and real. God, how she missed this. Closing her eyes, she burrowed into his chest and breathed deep. He smelled woodsy and male. Mitch. He was alive. He was here and she was never going to let him go again. Ever.
A little shorter, darker, broader, but he felt the same, smelled the same, and sounded the same. She had her Mitch back. Oh, God, he was back, and it was taking all her strength not to crumble right there in front of her friends.
“Holy shit.” Maria’s voice penetrated the haze in Sam’s brain. “You? You’re Mitch?”
A deep chuckle rumbled under Sam’s ear. She drew back to look into his face. Forehead a little broader, cheekbones slightly more pronounced, hair somewhat shorter and darker, yet she clearly saw Mitch. His eyes were the same gorgeous blue-green regarding her with enough heat to melt the surrounding snow. Then there was his mouth. The same wonderful, full lips that fit over hers so well, and knew how to tempt and tease until she begged for mercy.
But the best was his touch. Oh, God, his touch…he was cupping her face with both hands and the fierce attraction, the strong connection was the same. No. That wasn’t exactly true. It was stronger. Somehow their connection was stronger.
“I told you I’d find you, Samantha,” he said, eyes full of love and conviction so fierce she trembled. “I told you I would. I told you I would.”
“Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?” A deep voice asked from behind.
Mitch rested his forehead against hers and released her face to hold her hips. Awareness tingled down her spine. The other pilot was going to have to wait for an answer.
Other pilot. Brothers, her mind supplied from information Maria had once divulged. At the time, Sam hadn’t cared. Hadn’t really paid attention. But now? Now she wondered which brother was holding her.
Sam pulled the man’s coat open to look at the nametag on his uniform. Tracing the letters, she was surprised to find how right the name felt. It fit. Still touching the tag, she looked up at him and smiled.
Chapter 21
“Hello, Jack.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jensen remarked, officially joining the conversation and making that the longest sentence Sam had ever heard come out of his mouth to date.
Jack chuckled again, and keeping her tucked into his side, he thrust his hand toward the mechanic. “Hi, Squid.”
“No fucking way!” Jensen shook his hand, warmth in his eyes, broad smile on his lips. “Air Force? Really, Mitch? You couldn’t come back Navy?”
The other brother…what had Maria said his name was? Adam. The Marine. He stepped forward, confusion dipping his brow. “Okay. That’s it. What the hell is going on, Jack? And why is everyone calling you by your middle name?”
Sam gasped and drew back to look up into Jack’s face again. “Your middle name is Mitch?”
He nodded, a smile crossing those wonderful, full lips. “Mitchell.”
“Yeah, his name is John Mitchell Morgan, but surely that’s no surprise since you threw yourself at him like you knew him,” the Marine said, bewilderment slacking the jaw he scratched.
Holy heaven…
Air clogged Sam’s throat as she looked into those sea green eyes she knew so well. “Your first name is John?”
Something familiar and deep warmed his gaze. “Yes.”
At that, she leaned into him and held tight, hiccupping into his broad chest, trembling when his arms came around her and crushed her close. That did it. She promptly stopped breathing. She stopped thinking too, and only felt. John…Mitch... Her eyes drifted closed and pushed out the tears burning behind her lids.
“Jack, what the hell, man?”
His poor brother sounded so lost. She empathized. It was too much. It was all becoming too much. She opened her eyes and her mouth, intending to give Adam the explanation he deserved, but it was no use. Emotions clogged her swollen throat. She couldn’t even squeak.
God bless Maria. She jumped into action, motioning to Jensen who followed her lead as she linked her arm through the Marine’s and drew him toward the main building. “Oh boy, Adam have we got a tale to tell you.”
***
While her family and friends were busy cluing poor Adam in on the craziness that was her life, Jack had grabbed her duffle bag and ushered her across the lot to a truck. His truck. Twenty minutes later, she was shaking despite the warmth in his nondescript ranch house on the opposite side of town.
Grateful for the privacy, she also recognized the thoughtfulness of the act. It was as if he knew she needed to be with Mitch, yet wanted to discover more about Jack. What better way than to take her to his home.
Greeted by the wonderful scent of fresh cut pine from the naked, six-foot spruce standing in front of the bay window, Sam smiled.
“What a beautiful tree.”
“I waited for you to decorate,” he said, helping her out of her coat before hanging it up with his in the closet by the door.
Again, his thoughtfulness hit her, an
d she blinked back the blur from her vision in time to see a gorgeous German Sheppard lumbering toward them from the back of the house.
“Oh, aren’t you a sweetheart,” she said, dropping to her knees to give the dog a rubdown, receiving several kisses in response. “What’s his name?” She glanced up and watched a lop-sided grin steal across his mouth.
“Shep.”
She laughed.
Still grinning, he squatted next to her to scratch the dog’s neck. “This ole boy is ten years old. I got him way before I got my memories back, but I don’t know, he was a Sheppard and Shep seemed to fit.”
The dog barked as if in agreement.
“Well, I think it’s perfect.”
He helped her to stand, holding onto her elbow a little longer than necessary. “I’m…ah…going to let him run out back.”
She watched Jack open the sliding glass door to let the Sheppard into the fenced in yard. He was indeed a little more broader than Mitch as muscles rippled under the white shirt of the SC Charters uniform.
A blissful tremor shot down her spine.
“Are you cold?” he asked, turning from the door. “I’ll light a fire.”
This time, she bit back a snort. Already started.
As he added logs to the hearth, her gaze wandered over the dark hair on his forearms and head, and couldn’t help but wonder if it ensured he’d have the smattering on his chest and abs she loved so much.
Cripes. It was sad how her mind only permitted light thoughts and wouldn’t allow the deeper, more important issues to surface. God knows she had a ton of things to face, like technically, this was Jack Morgan not Mitch Carson rising to his feet in front of the lit fireplace. Still, although a little surreal, everything clicked into place.
So why did she feel like a teenager on her first date?
Sam drew in a steadying breath and contemplated her options. There were three. One, throw herself into Jack’s arms and cry her eyes out. Two, throw him on the couch and ride him until neither of them could walk. Or three, pace a hole in the floor until her mind came to grips with her heart.
Since one involved puffy eyes, and two would most likely lead to another marathon—and she’d like to get to know who Mitch had become before they shed clothes—Sam opted for option number three. She began to pace. Shiver and pace. Pace and shiver. Yesiree that was her. She was a pacing, shivering mass of nerves who wanted to bawl and ride the new pilot.
Oh, God…what the hell do I do now?
“Samantha? Hey, it’s okay. Let’s sit down before you fall down.”
His arm felt warm and reassuring around her shoulders as he led her to a chair he’d pulled away from the table. A vase of roses and champagne chilling on ice registered in her mind.
“How sweet. Thank you.”
Holding her gaze, he brought her hand to his mouth and gently kissed her fingers. “You’re welcome. I’ve had a long time to plan.”
Long time? Her heart lurched. “How long?”
“A few years.”
Holy…
“I’m s-s-sorry,” she stammered, sinking onto the chair. God, she’d nearly gone crazy the past several weeks. How did he ever survive years?
Once she was seated, he grabbed another chair and sat directly in front of her, knees touching, gaze warm and sure as he reached for her hands again. They shook harder under his touch.
“Don’t be sorry, and don’t worry.” His lips twitched into a slight grin. “This isn’t an interrogation, unlike the last time we were seated this way.”
That got a half hiccup, half chuckle from her throat. “Yeah, at least this time I’m not shackled.”
Laughter instantly disappeared from his face. “I’m so sorry I ever did that, Samantha. You have no idea how much I wish I could take it back.”
Remorse lining his face, he released her to shove a hand through his hair. Worn slightly shorter, it stuck up haphazardly and she had to fight the urge to reach out and smooth it down.
“No.” She grabbed his hands instead and held tight. “You acted accordingly. Cripes. I could’ve been the enemy for all you knew.”
“But you weren’t.” Self-disgust echoed in his tone and pierced her heart.
She released his hand to cup his chin. “I wouldn’t trade one single second of our time together, Mitch.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “Not one second.”
“Me either, Samantha,” he said quietly, brushing away a tear that had spilled down her face.
They stared at each other for several beats. The urge to lean forward and kiss him was so strong her body shook. She needed to taste him, to feel him again. But this wasn’t just Mitch. The gorgeous, thoughtful man in front of her had more memories than just of the two of them. He had a whole life. One she wanted to learn about. She dropped her hand and cleared her throat instead.
“That reminds me…w-what do you want me to call you?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Whatever you want,” he said. “Mitch. John. Jack. It’s your choice. I’d even answer to idiot, but only to you.”
She laughed. “You’re certainly not that.”
“Thank you.” Smiling, he turned to the table, reached for the champagne and popped the cork. “I think you could use a drink, and I’d like to propose a toast.” He poured out two glasses and stared into her eyes as he handed her one. “To our past, our future, and most importantly, our present.”
The wild beating of her heart fluttered in her chest, making it near impossible to breath. “To us,” she managed to say, clinking his glass with an unsteady hand before taking a much needed sip.
Then another…before he removed the flute from her fingers and placed it next to his on the table. Blue-green eyes bore deep, obliterating the last visages of numbness. And because his nearness was fogging her brain, she scrambled to her feet and headed to the fireplace where she leaned for support.
“Tell me about yourself,” she said. “I know Mitch.” God, she loved Mitch. “I remember loving John, but I don’t know Jack.”
His lips twitched at her word choice.
She shook her head and smiled. “You know what I mean.”
He rose to his feet and slowly walked toward her, stopping not quite a foot away, like he couldn’t stand to be across the room from her.
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said, taking her hand and tugging her toward the tree. “What do you want to know?”
Her pulse shot back into orbit, then leveled out when he handed her a set of lights. Together, they began to decorate the pine.
“Everything.”
She got a brow raise for that. “Everything?”
“Yes.”
“Well, let’s see…” A devilish glint entered his gaze as he looked at her from over the branches. “I lost my virginity when—”
She smacked his shoulder. “Okay, maybe not that.”
He choked out a laugh and continued to string the lights. “I’m thirty-one. Love to fly. Recently resigned my Captain commission from the Air Force.”
A chuckle escaped her throat. “That would make you what…Captain Morgan?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Dropping the lights, he assumed the pirate pose and they both laughed.
“Okay, what else?”
“I have a Bachelors degree in Mechanical Engineering.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” she interrupted. “Now maybe you can put my blue-ray player back together again.”
Blue-green eyes blinked until dawning entered their warm depths. “Absolutely. Uh…sorry about that. It’s in the TV room on a desk.”
She nodded. “No problem. Carry on.”
He grabbed the second set of lights and handed her an end. “I’m good with my hands. Love a cozy fire. I’ll do just about anything for an old fashioned cheeseburger, and my favorite color is green.”
Holy smokes! It was all so similar to Mitch, she could see how the Ace had influenced Jack’s life. She could also see a ton of emotion behind his eyes and knew he was holding st
uff back so she could adjust. It was weird. The last go round, he was the one who had to adjust to a new life, a new century. Now, the tables were sort of turned, and Sam was the one who had adjusting to do.
She turned and plugged in the lights, stepping back to check their handiwork and to keep from reaching for him. All the lights worked, twinkling in happy bursts. No bare spots. It was full, like her heart.
“Where were you born?” she asked, eager to learn more. “Are your parents still alive?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “I was born and raised in Pomona. Both my parents are retired. Dad from the Air Force, mom from teaching. Now they go around to auctions and flip stuff they buy.” He waved to the pictures on the mantle. “I have a younger brother Adam and sister Nancy, which you already know.”
“Yes,” she said, heading closer for a better look. “Mitch—you—I mean Mitch told me about them. Nancy was on the plane and helped when Harry had his heart attack.”
“So was my niece Halie,” he said next to her, tone dropping with added emotion.
Her heart jerked when the magnitude of that event hit her. She glanced at him “My God, you…saved them. Were you also the uncle who gave Halie the angel cat named Mitchell?”
“Yes.” He nodded and momentarily closed his eyes. “God, you have no idea how hard it was to let them take that trip, even knowing I would be…Mitch would be there,” he corrected, slowly opening his eyes. “But I knew I couldn’t interfere with the timeline. I had to let things play out. And I had Harry to consider, too. My sister had been instrumental in helping to save his life.”
What a hell of a position to be put in. Her heart squeezed at the thought of what he’d gone through. But what could she say? It was in both their pasts now. So she nodded and turned her attention to the other photos.
A happy, older couple sat on a swing—had to be his mom and dad. One of him with his brother. Another of his sister with a handsome man and a cute little girl. And one of him in his Air Force uniform with a few buddies on a carrier. She looked closer…holy shit…she’d seen them. She’d been on the same carrier.
“That was taken the day I arrived, and the day you left.”
She slowly turned to face him. “I remember. I-I had the strangest feeling. A strong pull, but I couldn’t tell which of the new guys had been the cause.”
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