Mine Tomorrow Page 6

“Right. It’s very upscale and old school.”

  Her description struck him as odd. “Old school? What does that mean?”

  “Um, it’s…it’s just a saying. And since we’re going on the record, I want to make it clear I don’t sleep with men on a first date or before one.”

  He chuckled. “I already know that. It was the tenth, as I recall. Our wedding night.”

  Her eyes rounded, almost as if she were surprised. But then she smiled. “A very short engagement.”

  “Too long, in my opinion.” He sobered. “I knew right away you were the one for me, Devin.”

  Gregory took her hand, kissed the back of it. His lips lingered just above the band that he had slipped on her finger at the courthouse that day mere months earlier. Had she taken that band off while he was overseas? Perhaps tried to sell it just as Sal claimed she’d wanted to sell the watch? It was cheap, but it would have brought in a few dollars at least.

  He didn’t want to believe she could be playing him for a fool, not after today.

  “Do you love me, Devin?”

  He held his breath while he awaited her reply, but he needn’t have bothered. She smiled in full, eyes alight with certainty.

  “I may not be sure of anything else at the moment, but that much I know. I love you, Gregory Prescott. I think I loved you even before we met.”

  It was exactly what he wanted to hear. Exactly what he needed her to say.

  “All right, then. Today, we’ll enjoy our time together. But tomorrow we will have that talk. As soon as we awake, Devin.”

  She nodded, but her smile faltered ever so slightly when she repeated, “When we awake.”

  Chapter Nine

  Devin still felt a bit woozy. Was it from the heat? Was it because she was so hungry and possibly dehydrated as well? Those were plausible culprits, she supposed. But that rushing sound she’d experienced in her ears just before she’d fainted, along with the nausea, rising panic and overwhelming sense of foreboding…They were not as easily explained away. Not when they lingered even now.

  Dear Mrs. Prescott, we regret to inform you…

  She pinched her eyes shut. This time, instead of trying to “remember” what the telegram had said, she blocked out the words. She didn’t want to know.

  She was grateful for the arm Gregory had around her waist. His support was not only physical, but emotional, as well.

  When she’d come around after her fainting spell, she’d been a little surprised to be still in 1945. She half expected to open her eyes to find herself in her apartment. Or maybe even the shop with a distressed Emily hovering over her.

  The fact that she hadn’t begged a new question: What if this wasn’t a dream?

  What if everything was real, including her life with Gregory?

  Reincarnation? She’d never believed in it before, but something had happened to Gregory and his wife. Something had torn them apart. She recalled the letter that had been found in the apartment. A letter addressed to Devin. She’d thought it an odd coincidence at the time, but now?

  Come back to me.

  She couldn’t stop wondering, had she?

  Was it possible that Devin had somehow traveled back through time to be with the only man she had ever loved?

  * * *

  The diner’s sign read Dandy’s, but Devin knew the place as Helen’s Home Cooking. Through the window she could see that it sported the same checkered-pattern tile work and chrome-based stools at the counter. The familiarity was soothing, and exactly what she needed at the moment.

  Inside, the restaurant was surprisingly crowded given that it was mid-afternoon. Just as she was going to suggest they grab the last two stools at the counter, a table opened up at the back. A harried-looking waitress in a pale blue uniform, starched white apron and heels dropped off a pair of menus.

  “I’ll be right with you,” she promised before hurrying away.

  The man at the table next to them lit up a cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke in Devin’s direction. Where Helen’s Home Cooking was smoke-free, Dandy’s didn’t even have a non-smoking section. She waved a hand as the smell caused her nostrils to burn and her eyes to sting.

  “God, that’s a filthy habit,” she muttered before she could stop to wonder if Gregory smoked.

  He hadn’t so far, not even the stereotypical cigarette as they’d lain in bed basking in the afterglow of great sex, but…

  To her relief, he replied, “I know what you mean. I never cared for the smell, much less the taste.”

  Not surprisingly, he made no mention of lung cancer. The health risks associated with tobacco use and secondhand smoke had not yet been clearly documented.

  He was saying, “My grandfather smoked. He used to roll his own cigarettes.”

  “Mine did, as well. A lot of people did back then.” Of course, in Devin’s case, the back then she was referring to was right now. “No one knew any better.”

  The waitress returned. Devin pegged the woman to be in her mid-twenties, although she seemed more mature than most of the twenty-somethings who came by Yesterday’s Closet wearing their trendy ripped denim with body piercings and tattoos galore. Her up-do hairstyle and ruby lips added to the effect.

  According to the badge on her uniform, her name was Irene.

  “Today’s special is a hot turkey sandwich and a slice of cherry pie.” The price she quoted was ridiculously low.

  “That sounds good,” Gregory commented. “Devin?”

  “Make it two.”

  Despite the heat outside, they ordered coffee as well. After Devin took her first sip, her gaze was drawn to the bright red mark on the cup’s rim. Her lipstick nearly the same bold shade as their waitress’s. Devin had found a tube in the bathroom and put it on before they left the apartment. She normally didn’t wear much more than a clear gloss, but here red lipstick seemed almost a requirement.

  As had the silk stockings and pumps, which already had Devin’s arches aching. High heels were not comfortable, even in a dream. If this was a dream.

  “You have a very odd expression on your face right now,” Gregory said.

  “I was just thinking that it’s hard work for a woman to look good. The hairstyles, the shoes, but maybe especially the clothing.”

  Nothing in this era was wash and wear. The dress she’d worn earlier was a case in point. After a couple of hours on the floor, the fabric had become a wrinkled mess. It would need to be pressed before it could be worn again. As much as Devin adored the fashions, she could admit they were less convenient than their twenty-first-century counterparts.

  “Perhaps, but it’s completely worth it from my perspective.”

  Her heart fluttered. “Maybe I could get used to having to iron everything.”

  She knew for a fact she could get used to Gregory’s compliments and covert glances. His thoughtfulness and innate sense of decency. And his lovemaking…Oh, yes. Especially that.

  Unfortunately, time wasn’t on her side. The day was half over. If this was a dream, surely once she fell asleep she would awake to reality in her apartment.

  Her worry must have shown on her face, because he asked, “What is it, Devin?”

  She shook her head. In lieu of the truth, which was too incredible for him to understand anyway, she offered a smile.

  “This is a first date, remember? I’m simply trying to decide what I should ask you.” She rubbed her hands together in front of her. “So many possibilities.”

  “The pendulum swings both ways, you know.” He bobbed his eyebrows. “Yours isn’t the only curiosity that is going to enjoy satisfaction.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Well? Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  Since she couldn’t very well hit him with the heavy artillery right out of the gate, she asked, “Your favorite author, who is it?”

  “Let’s see.” He scratched his cheek. “Probably Earnest Hemingway.”

  “Music…or musician?”

  “Before I met you, I w
as partial to jazz. So, if this really were our first date, I’d answer your question by saying Louis Armstrong.” He shifted in his seat. “These days, however, I’ve acquired a taste for pop.”

  “Pop, hmm? And who is your favorite pop artist?”

  “Bing Crosby.” Gregory winked. “Same as you. Now I have a question.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  He hesitated just long enough that she expected his reply to be something jaw-dropping. But he asked, “What’s your favorite color?

  “Blue. Robin’s egg blue to be exact.”

  He smiled. “Like the dress you wore for our wedding.”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s my favorite color as well.”

  “It is not!” Devin laughed.

  He drew an imaginary cross over his heart. “It has been since I saw you in it.”

  “What was it before?”

  “Before I met you, you mean?”

  She nodded.

  “Hard to say. My life was rather dull then, black and white, sort of like a lot of motion pictures.”

  “Red,” Devin speculated. “Am I right?”

  “You know you are.”

  Did she know? Or had her guess simply been that?

  “What’s your favorite movie,” she asked.

  “Hmm. I have to think about that. What’s yours?”

  “Gone With the Wind.” The 1939 classic was one of the only movies she could think of that would have come out by this time period.

  “Then I have to go with The Wizard of Oz, because it should have won the Oscar for Best Picture. In any other year, it would have.”

  “Perhaps,” she allowed.

  The waitress arrived carrying a tray laden with their orders. The smell was heavenly and Devin’s stomach rumbled, reminding her how hungry she was.

  “Where were we?” Gregory asked once they were alone again.

  “It was your turn.”

  “Right. Favorite food?”

  Devin liked Thai food and anything else she could order and have delivered, but she decided to go with, “Chocolate.”

  “That’s not food.”

  Grinning, she replied, “Why not? Dark chocolate is purported to have all sorts of health benefits.”

  “Says who?”

  She couldn’t very well mention the medical study she’d read about online just the week before. “I say.”

  “And what health benefits might these be?” he asked, cutting off a bite of his hot turkey sandwich.

  “I could blow your mind with talk of antioxidants and flavonols—”

  He stopped and glanced up. “Anti-what and flav-who?”

  She chuckled. “Never mind. I’m just saying that anything that tastes that good has to be good for you, right? I’d eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner if I thought I could get away with it.”

  His gaze skimmed down. “I think you could get away with it.”

  Deciding to keep the moment light, she asked, “Are you flirting with me, Mr. Prescott?”

  “I call ’em like I see ’em, Mrs. Prescott.”

  Mrs. Prescott. Was it only the way he said it that caused a tingle to shoot up her spine? She shook off the thought.

  “Wh-what’s your favorite food?”

  “Anything hot and homemade,” he replied.

  “That’s unfortunate, since we both know I’m not the best cook.”

  He was back to teasing. “And here I thought you were perfect.”

  “Far from it, I’m afraid.”

  “Not from where I’m sitting.”

  Although he smiled, his tone was serious. Her heart knocked out a few extra beats and Devin found herself wishing she could freeze the moment and stay with him forever.

  Chapter Ten

  “Tell me about your family,” Devin said.

  They had polished off the hot turkey sandwiches and were now working on their pie.

  “What is it you want to know?” Gregory asked.

  “Anything…everything. It’s a first date, remember? Assume I know nothing.”

  “There’s not a lot to tell. I’m an only child. My father was a lawyer who spent more time building his career than paying attention to his wife and child, so my mother packed a suitcase when I was six and we went to live with her parents. He died of a massive heart attack a month later.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He accepted her sympathy with a nod before going on. “My mother was devastated. When she moved out, she’d wanted to get his attention, make him see reason. Instead…”

  “That must have been a very difficult time.”

  “I don’t remember much about it except that she was sad for a long time. Then one day she woke up and told me life was too short to live in the past. She said she was taking a trip, and that I was going to stay with my grandparents. She claimed she wouldn’t be away long.”

  “She never came back,” Devin murmured.

  It was impossible not to draw parallels between his mother’s abandonment and, later, his wife’s.

  “She wrote occasionally and called on my birthdays, but no, she didn’t come back. When I was fifteen, my grandparents got a telegram from her. She was ill, dying. We traveled to California. That’s where she’d been living. But we arrived too late.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She covered his hand with hers.

  His father had broken his mother’s heart, and then his mother had done the very same thing to Gregory.

  “It was a long time ago.”

  But he missed her.

  “What about your grandparents?”

  “They died within six months of each other when I was in college.”

  “Any other family?”

  He shook his head. “They were all I had.”

  The last thing she wanted was to make him sad, so she told him, “We can talk about something else, if you’d like.”

  “All right. Let’s talk about you. The same rules apply.” He smiled then. “Tell me everything.”

  “What if you’ve already heard it?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said with a shake of his head. “I want to hear it again. You can’t bore me, Devin.”

  His words had her smiling. “Let’s see. Well, as you know, I have a younger sister.”

  “Emily. Yes. You mentioned her earlier when we were in Times Square.” If he found it odd that she hadn’t mentioned her before, he didn’t say so. Rather, he noted, “It sounds as if the two of you are very close.”

  “We are. Our parents died when she was barely a teenager. I was in college at the time, so I became her legal guardian.”

  His brows quirked up. “You raised her.”

  She shrugged. “I guess so, although Em was pretty self-sufficient by that point. It’s not like I had to change diapers or anything.”

  “Still, that couldn’t have been easy. You had to step into the role of parent.”

  “I’m just grateful we got to stay together. I don’t know what I would have done if she’d been sent to live with strangers,” Devin admitted. That had been her worst fear at the time. “We had no other immediate family willing to step into the void and take on a teenager.”

  “And you still finished your education.”

  It was more statement than question, but she answered anyway.

  “I graduated with a business degree. Em’s in college now.”

  “Two smart women. I’d say your parents would be very proud of you both.”

  “I think so, too.” She smiled.

  “I can’t wait to meet her.”

  Devin managed to keep her smile from faltering as a thought occurred to her. If this wasn’t a dream, if somehow she really had been transported back in time to 1945, what would happen to Emily in present-day New York?

  Her sister needed her. They were all each other had. She couldn’t leave her, desert her. Could Devin ever be truly happy here without her sister?

  Chapter Eleven

  After they returned to the apartment,
they made love once more. As evening fell, they took their time, exploring each other’s body with as much reverence as passion. Devin was determined to remember everything about Gregory. Just in case.

  “Going out for food was a good idea,” he murmured from next to her on the mattress.

  Cuddled up against his side with one of her legs tossed possessively over his hard-muscled thighs, she merely grunted in agreement, too tired to speak coherently.

  What a day it had been. She was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. But when her eyes closed, she forced them back open. She couldn’t fall asleep. If she did she…she might never…she might never see him again.

  But no matter how hard she tried, her eyelids kept drifting shut. They were simply too heavy to heed her command. In the final moment before sleep claimed her, she heard Gregory whisper, “I love you.”

  * * *

  Devin shot awake, jackknifing to a sitting position on the mattress. The room was pitch black and as such too dark to make out the décor. Was she in her efficiency? Had she woken up to the present day with nothing more than memories of a phenomenal dream to share with her sister?

  She was alone. That much she knew for certain after running her hand over the spot next to her where Gregory had been laying. The bed was empty, the sheet cool to her touch. Tears pricked her eyes. A dream, it had all been a dream. The man, their marriage, their sweet, sweet lovemaking.

  On a sob, she fell back against her pillow and covered her face with her hands. More sobs followed, but Devin didn’t try to muffle them. Instead, she allowed them to seep out from her broken heart and echo in the room.

  Vaguely, she was aware of the sound of running feet. From a neighbor’s apartment probably. God, she hoped no one would call the police on her. The last thing she needed was for New York’s finest to show up at her door, asking if everything was all right.

  Nothing was, nor would it ever be again.

  “Gregory!” Even though she knew it was futile, she hollered his name.

  She sucked in a breath when she heard him shout back, “Devin!”

  At first, she thought it was wishful thinking, her mind playing tricks on her. But then she felt the mattress sag under his weight, and a pair of strong hands gripped her shoulders.