Break My Heart (The Heart Series Book 2) (23 page)

“Because I think you’re supposed to come with me.”

CHAPTER 20

Ileana

I can’t move. Maybe I didn’t hear him right.

His scrutiny of me is unnerving. This is wrong. Like an ambush, I get a very real picture of those dreams that continue to haunt me at night. Him, me, us. My heart picks up the pace, his touch burns my skin. I yank my hands away from his.

My apartment feels too confined. Will overwhelms me, engulfs my senses. His scent, his body, even his clothes take me back there, to that place where I felt so lost but finally found myself.

“What makes you think you’ll need me to go with you?” I croak, shooting up from my chair and putting some distance between us.

I need to get my bearings. Will is right behind me, towering.

“I have to go by what I know. Of all the places you could have landed back in ‘44, you ended up at my farm. That’s how you caught Wayne. Maybe I need you to help me get where I’m going.”

Turning toward him, I’m rendered silent by his fixed gaze. Darkened pupils travel over my features in longing, and my nerves scramble to react to such intimate assessment.

A wave of self-awareness hits me, and I quickly avert my eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m making you uncomfortable. It’s just, you look exactly like….” He trails off, letting the thought hang there.

“Doc’s late wife? I know, he told me.” I self-consciously brush my curls away from my face.

His eyes narrow in question. “He told you that you looked like
Amelia
?”

“Yeah, back at the USO dance.”

Will’s expression is strange. He blinks away the confusion, and then nods in agreement. “That’s right.” Sadness sinks in again. “I’m very sorry about this. I don’t want to make trouble for you. Everything will be fine once I get to where I need to be.”

He turns away, and again scans the space. “Do you have any pictures of your family? I only see you and…Tom?” He faces me again.

“Tommy. And no, I don’t have pictures of my family. It’s just he and I.”

His jaw ticks, and he turns to the frames again. “What about your mother, your grandmother?”

I might have some pictures of Sophia somewhere buried inside a shoebox in my closet, whatever is left from my sorry childhood. I’m not rehashing that, not for anyone.

“Everything is still the same. Both are out of the picture.” I flip the tables on him. “Speaking of family, how are Carol and your sisters?”

Will was an intricate part of their lives; they depended on him.

It takes him a beat to engage, and then a sad smile emerges. “They’re great. Danny came back and moved into the house with Mary. He watches over them, and also runs the farm.”

Mary’s husband is running the farm?

“What about you?”

He focuses on the view of the evening lights outside my living room window. “I’m working at the bank. Danny needed work, I needed to get away from Bloomingfield, and it worked out for the best.” His voice softens. “Mom misses you. She won’t ask about what happened or where you went. She knows something did happen, but you know how she is. MJ misses you, too. So does Mary.”

The mention of them squeezes my heart. I miss them, especially Carol. I never knew what it meant to have a real mother that genuinely cared and loved their children. She did that and more for me, and she barely even knew me.

“I miss them, too.” My reply is raspy as I fight the sudden longing. Will registers my expression, and rushes forward but hesitates. I can tell he wants to hold me, but instead, he pats my upper arm awkwardly and shakes it playfully.

“It’s been a long day. Maybe we can catch up tomorrow?” I hide from him, trying to avoid his gaze.

“I look forward to it,” Will responds, so I point him down the hall.

He extends his hand in an “after you” gesture. I show him to the guest room, the close quarters bringing us even closer.

I want to run away, put some distance between us, because the truth is, I need
something
. I just don’t know what that something is.
Get out.

“Well, make yourself at home. Good night.” I bid my goodbyes and rush past him, but not without inhaling a lungful of Will. That hardworking male scent takes me back to a time when he was my soft place to fall.

“Ileana?” His voice is low, and it does that thing to my name, makes it sound like the wish before he blows out his candles.

I pause in the doorway and glance back at those stormy blue eyes.

“Are you happy?”

I blink. That is the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth right now. It reminds me of Doc. Brings back memories I try not to remember. Doc asked me that same question back in 1944 at the USO dance.

“What is with you guys? Doc asked me that, too.”

Once again, I manage to surprise him. “He did?”

We have a lot to catch up on indeed. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. Get some rest.”

Smiling, I shut the door behind me, leaving him standing by the futon, those piercing blue eyes never wavering, and never missing a thing.

قلب

First order of business this morning is work. Nelson is still pissed at me, so I called Teague. He’s okay with me taking a few more days off on the condition that I stay in touch with my team, and take over surveillance this Fourth of July weekend since Nelson requested off. I sent Tommy a text telling him I want to meet up as soon as he’s able. I don’t want to tell him about Will being here over the phone; he’ll freak. It’s vital I explain how important this is, and that he gives me space to work it out. For that, I need to do this one-on-one.

I strip off my PJs and throw on some sweatpants and a tee and head for the kitchen, where Will is once again staring at my appliances.

“Good morning.”

He’s wearing Tommy’s pants, but that’s all. I try my best not to stare, because although he seems older, his muscles are still forged from hard labor and constant motion. This morning, he’s clean-shaven, his chin dimple on full display. He’s looking very much like the Will I remember.

“Good morning. I’m sorry about not wearing a shirt. The one you gave me was too small.”

“That’s all right, I’ll get you a t-shirt.” Coming around the counter, I keep at a safe distance; I don’t know why, but having him shirtless and so close is awkward, and it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s real and actually standing in my kitchen.

“Coffee?” I ask, getting busy with the coffee maker. “Let me make you something to eat.”

“Thank you.” Will leaves the kitchen and it doubles in size, enabling me to breathe. His presence practically engulfs everything, anywhere he goes.

I’m glad I recently went grocery shopping. I get out the bread and eggs, after starting the coffee. We’ll need all the energy we can get since there is a lot to discuss.

Will wanders around my living room, taking in my apartment once again. He closely examines my bookcases, peruses my books, pictures, and then glances out at the sunny Chicago morning through my living room window.

His hair is mussed, having dried while he slept, or perhaps because I didn’t provide him with a hairbrush.

“What are you making?” he asks, as he returns to the kitchen.

“Some eggs. Come, have a seat.”

He turns my way, his muscles flexing and contracting with his movements.
Oh my.
I need to go get him a t-shirt, but before I can say anything, he beats me to it.

“Would you mind getting my clothes for me to wear for breakfast?” Will asks, crossing his arms over his chest and refusing to approach the kitchen table, which I’ve set for the both of us.

The ever-gentleman, Will Shaw.

“That’s right, I’m sorry. They should be dry by now. I’ll be right back. Sit down.”

In the laundry room, the delicate cycle is finished, so I fetch his clothes from the dryer. Returning to the kitchen table, I hand Will his tank-top version of an undershirt and his shirt, and he quickly puts them on.

“Drying clothes inside the house. What a marvelous thing,” he mutters to himself and it makes me smile.

I pile our plates with scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and fill our cups with fresh coffee. I bring over two glasses of orange juice, sweetener, and butter as well.

I haven’t had breakfast like this with Tommy in a long time. I miss us just hanging out, watching movies or eating takeout, back when we worked together. My heart aches at the memories.

“Smells great,” Will says, grabbing his fork and digging right in.

“Thanks.”

We eat in silence. I want to ask whether he knows the mechanics of traveling. I’m sure he has questions of his own. But I’ll give him time to get some food in him.

“I meant to tell you back at the hospital, I’m glad you made it home.” His smile is full of affection, the blue of his beaming eyes almost clear in the morning sun. And those damn dimples.

Heat creeps up my neck. “Thanks. Sorry we couldn’t talk there, too many ears.”

Will nods. “Thank you for getting me out, giving me a place to stay.”

“Hey, you did the same for me, and you didn’t even know who I was. It’s the least I could do after everything....”

“What happened after you came back?” Will’s voice wavers with worry and dread.

“We showed up in the field. They were tracking my phone, but so much time had passed, well, we weren’t found right away. Wayne, you know….” I take a deep breath and continue, “I had to be airlifted to the hospital, was unconscious for about a week. They informed me I’d been missing for four months.”

Will is taken aback. “Four months? That’s a big gap of time.”

“What do you mean?” Now, I’m the one confused.

“Wayne and my uncle? They were never really gone from the farm for long periods of time, so Doc figured out they were able to return around the time they had left.”

“Are you sure?”

He nods in affirmation. “Doc and I went over this, after you left. Since Wayne’s dad had also been able to do it, Doc suspected maybe I could too, being family. But it never worked, until now. As far as getting someplace, I remembered what Wayne said but couldn’t figure out what it meant, but I have a theory.”

My scowl is back because I don’t know what Will is referring to. “What Wayne said?”

“When you asked him how he knew where he was going. Remember?”

Shaking my head in puzzlement, I wrack my brain trying to recall our conversation but nothing stands out.

“I don’t remember. Maybe it was my injuries or the overall trauma.” Or the fact that I’ve tried to block those memories and convinced myself they weren’t real.

“
Wherever your heart desires
.” Will’s rich, baritone voice enunciates each word, like peeling back a curtain inch by inch, letting the light in so I can truly see everything around me.

Damn. How could I have forgotten? Wayne even told me about the alley!

Doll, this is not the only rabbit hole.

Son of a bitch.

“So, location is one,” I count off using my fingers, “the alley and the field, and genetics is two, possibly. And something to do with your heart?” The heart is but a body part, unless it’s referring to feelings or emotions. How could genetics and emotions be involved in physics? “So, how come you ended up here instead of where you need to go?”

“That’s why I think it might be connected with the heart,” he answers pensively. “I drove to the north fields and stood there many times before, wondering if you made it back, if Wayne made it. Although, Doc told me that the chance of Wayne surviving was slim, based on his injury.” He shakes his head in disbelief, his eyes vast as the ocean. “But this time, all I saw was you, smiling at MJ. I recalled her dinner time stories about your farming chores. I could almost see you sitting across from me at the kitchen table…” His eyes glimmer wistfully, “Suddenly, the wind was whispering my name. I swear, I thought I was going mad. Then there was a big bang and I landed flat on my back, the sky exploding over me.”

“The fireworks.”

“It felt like I got kicked by a horse. Sat up, looked around. That’s when I saw you. I thought, ‘great, now I’ve lost my marbles, because that dame looks like Ileana.’ But then I heard your voice. And that’s when I knew you were real.” His soft lips tug up in a smirk, and the memory of them on mine shakes my libido awake.

Jesus.
Get your head in the game, Harper.

I clear my throat. “All right. So,” thinking out loud, I’m trying to work the problem, “according to your theory, I disappeared from the field in 2013 and ended up on your farm in 1944 because….”

“Something deep inside your heart made a wish of sorts, and you were in the right place, so it was granted, in a way.”

I don’t remember what I was feeling. I wonder what the hell was in the hearts of Wayne’s and his father when they murdered their way through decades. I take a sip of my juice, the taste of fresh citrus refreshing and energizing.

“I know I wanted to catch the killer and put a stop to the murders. That was my thought at the time.” I narrow my gaze at Will. “You think that’s it?”

Will exhales loudly, after swallowing his last bite of scrambled eggs. “It would explain how you landed on our farm, and I ended up in 2014. What did you wish for to get back here, to your time?”

That one is easy. Swallowing thickly, I glance over at the framed photos of Tommy and me.

I wanted to come home to Tommy. That was all I wanted that day, laying on my back while bleeding out in that field.

Will follows my gaze and smiles sadly. “I see.”  

I trash the last of my toast and take our plates over to the sink, busy myself with cleaning up the kitchen.

Tommy is something I don’t want to discuss with Will. They are very different men, and not just physically. Their personalities are polar opposites. Once they meet, I’m sure he won’t be a big fan. The same goes with Tommy.

I grab my laptop and conduct a quick Internet search, showing Will while I do it.

“This is amazing, what is this?” He touches my laptop in astonishment like it’s some kind of shiny treasure.