Mine Tomorrow. Jackie Braun

Чтение книги онлайн.

       Chapter Two

      A blinding light engulfed her. Devin closed her eyes against its brightness and winced at the loud, soniclike boom that followed.

      What had just happened? Some sort of freak power surge? When she opened her eyes, however, the scene that greeted her was surreal and caused her to doubt her sanity.

      She was no longer standing in front of the trifold mirror. In fact, she wasn’t in her shop at all or even in the East Village. Despite some cosmetic differences and the absence of electronic billboards, she recognized the spot as Times Square. It was packed with people, all of whom were celebrating.

      Women were cheering. Men were clapping one another on the back. Sailors in uniform sauntered in their midst, randomly tossing their white caps high into the air. All of them were absurdly happy, but what struck Devin most of all was how they all looked. Their hairstyles, their clothing…vintage 1940s, an era she knew well.

      Something about the scene tugged at her memory. It was as if she’d seen it before. In one of her dreams perhaps? But she was awake now and at her shop, or at least she had been. So that didn’t explain why she was seeing it now. Not just seeing it, she thought, as an older gentleman bumped into her. It was as if she was experiencing it, right down to the acrid smell of smoke coming from the cigarette clamped between the man’s lips.

      He pulled it away, puffed out some smoke that she swore had her eyes stinging. With a polite tip of his lightweight fedora, he added, “Pardon me, ma’am.”

      When he was gone, Devin discreetly touched her forehead, almost hoping to find a wound that would explain things. A concussed person might succumb to detailed delusions such as these, but there was no wound, not even any tenderness.

      Had she suffered some sort of blackout or seizure then? Neither seemed to be the case. She felt fine, if confused. Other than that blinding light and hearing the thunderous boom, she’d experienced no other physical symptoms.

      That left two possibilities, only one of which was rational, so she eagerly latched on to it: This was another one of her dreams—a dream within a dream. She had never begun to unpack the boxes or even gone to her shop that morning. She was still in her apartment, sound asleep in her bed. The alarm on her nightstand had not yet gone off. She dipped her hand back into the coat’s pocket. The watch that had seemed to start it all wasn’t there. She sighed. A dream within a dream. That made sense.

      Especially when she spied him in the crowd.

      He was taller than most of the men in the square, his shoulders broader. His mouth was wide and sensual, the kind of mouth that looked just as good in a relaxed line as it did curved with a grin. His cheeks were lean and sculpted. At this distance, Devin couldn’t make out the color of his eyes, but suddenly she knew. They were blue. Not an icy light blue, but the fathomless midnight of the deep ocean.

      He wore a brimmed hat over his brown hair and was dressed in dark trousers, a crisp shirt and tie, and a dark blue blazer with brass buttons that ran down the placket. The uniform she recognized as United States Navy, vintage World War Two. Devin wasn’t up enough on the other details to know his military rank, but suddenly, in addition to his eye color, she knew his name.

       Gregory Prescott.

      It whispered through her mind as if someone had spoken it aloud and left her feeling as unsettled as she had after the blinding light and loud blast. She’d never known his name before. Why did she know it now when she had dreamed of him so many other times in the past?

      She must have heard it somewhere. The letter at the estate sale. It had been signed by a man named Gregory. Maybe she had even seen his face years ago, although she couldn’t recall ever bumping into him. But wasn’t that usually how people showed up in dreams, whisked to a person’s subconscious after a chance meeting in real life?

      Although she was far from satisfied with the explanation, Devin stopped caring the instant their gazes met. Awareness, interest, physical need—as always, she experienced all three in the split second it took for a grin to steal over his handsome face.

      She smiled in return and raised her hand slightly. It took only that and he broke into a run, shouldering his way СКАЧАТЬ