Page 10 of Destiny Reclaimed
Jack could see the burly guy from where he stood. The man lifted his hand and jerked his big thumb toward the living room.
The clicking of heels against the hardwood floor caused his pulse to ratchet up even more as the sound grew closer to him.
Gwennie rounded the corner. The caramel gaze he'd longed to see for two years fastened to his as she gasped and threw her hand over her heart. For what felt like an eternity, but was probably only seconds, he stood still, savoring her gaze.
A sob dislodged from her throat as she lunged herself into his wanting arms.
"I can't believe it's you. You’re home—alive."
Jack inhaled. The tantalizing vanilla scent of hers nearly knocked his socks off. "I am, sweetheart. I've missed you so much."
Gwennie pulled her head from the crook of his neck but didn't pull out from his hold. He wouldn't have let her if she tried. She felt too good in his arms.
She aligned her gaze with his and placed her soft hands to either side of his face.
"You're here."
He slid his hands up from her back to her flushed cheeks. Not caring her parents stood there staring at them, he dipped his head and pressed his mouth lightly to those bow-shaped lips he'd dreamed of touching more times than he could count the past couple of years. His heart fluttered and the sensations shooting through him were nothing short of amazing. If not for her parents standing there watching this exchange, he would have deepened their kiss in a heartbeat.
Remembering what he'd set out to do today, make Gwennie his forever. He couldn't let another minute pass by without doing that.
Jack pulled the velvety ring box from his pocket rubbing his fingers against it in a soothing manner. His soon-to-be fiancée's gaze landed on the box in his hand. Her chest rose with a quick intake of breath. The answer he desired would come as soon as he found his voice.
He moved to take a knee when all at once a gust of fiery hot air encircled him in a tornado-like fashion and whisked him up. The contents of his stomach catapulted into his throat. Bile stung his tongue. A heavy, unnerving impression weighed on him, yet he rose higher as if there were no ceiling to contain him.
Below, Gwennie stood, staring at a figure of him on his knee. How could he be down there on the ground, and caught up in this wind funnel watching her, watching him?
Awareness struck him. This reminded him of what he’d witnessed while in the hospital. So, it wasn’t a dream back then when that golden-haired nurse, and the soldier in the next bed over, had been sucked into a cyclone and whirled out of sight.
Holy shit!This is what his dad had begun to prepare him for before he left for war. It was real. He was traveling. He mentally braced himself. Shock and excitement jockeyed for position. Where was he headed? What was he supposed to do? And, when would he return home?
The strong, eerie sensation gripping his spine, coupled with being spun to oblivion, rendered him alarmed, speechless, and blind.
Chapter Four
Jack landed hard ona seat cushion with little give. Opening his eyes, he darted his gaze around, quickly realizing, he was sandwiched in the tight-fitting cockpit of a British Spitfire aircraft. The propeller spinning in front of him spun nearly as fast as his pulse pounded. His hands tightened on the controls. How in the hell had he come to be flying a Spitfire? A model of aircraft that flew its last mission for the Royal Air Force in 1954. He'd flown many kinds of planes during his brief employment for an airline before he’d shipped off to Vietnam, but never a Spitfire. He’d only ever read about these planes, never even saw one in person.
