Page 8 of His Hawaiian Heart
Samantha
It was definitely getting darker but I was finding myself wondering if it was dark enough to conceal my phone if I “accidentally” dropped it. The fact we were currently standing in a bit of a clearing nixed that plan and the beeping drew Sam’s attention to the phone’s screen.
“Are we still on the right track?”
“Yes. The camp should be just through there,” I said, holding out the phone so he could better see the blinking dot. It might just be my imagination, but even over sounds that couldn’t be attributed to any animals, I thought I heard him sigh. While I’d love to believe he was also hesitant to say our goodbyes, I knew he had to be relieved the end of the hike was close. “Sorry about the walk. It took a bit longer than I thought.”
He looked up from the screen to me. “Don’t be. I’ve enjoyed every moment.” He glanced toward the murmur of noise created by people. “Before we go further, promise me something.”
“Okay, I promise.”
He chuckled. “You need to wait until I ask before promising.”
“No I don’t,” I said with complete confidence.
“You’re far too trusting. You know nothing about me.”
I shook my head in disagreement. “I know enough to know that Harriett trusts you. Even if you’ve managed to fool her, I’m pretty sure that if you had evil intentions, I’d at least have seen a hint of them by now.”
He moved closer and cupped my chin in his fingers, lifting my face. I knew it was to more easily see my expression in the reflection of the light from my phone, but it was nice to think he also might be enjoying it as much as I was. It didn’t matter that he didn’t immediately speak, and when he lowered his head to press his forehead against mine, my heart actually skipped a beat and my breath caught in my throat. It was the most intimate moment I’d ever shared with another soul. I couldn’t have moved away even if the earth started shaking.
I looked into eyes the color of the forest around us, seeing the same things I was sure he was witnessing in my eyes. It was like looking into my deepest places and recognizing a link that had been missing without my being aware of its need to complete the chain of events that made up my life. It offered a place of sanctuary, promised a sense of calmness beneath the chaos of the world. When he finally spoke, I felt the breath surrounding each letter brush over me.
“Breathe.”
I hadn’t even known I was holding my breath, but my body obeyed the softly uttered command. As he inhaled, so did I, and when he exhaled slowly, I mimicked that as well until we were breathing in perfect synchronization. Time seemed to stretch until each minute could have been an hour and I didn’t care. I was content to simply stand there with this man I knew nothing about. The analytical part of me knew the connection I felt wasn’t pragmatic and yet it couldn’t be more real as far as I was concerned.
When he smiled, it began with the slow curl of his lips but ended in the depths of his eyes. The light I saw glowing was electric and powerful enough to have me smile in response. It made no sense and yet, again, it simply was.
Not everything is about the data.
Normally, that statement would have me ready to debate until my last breath, except I had no desire to attempt to prove my point. The only thing I wanted was to share every future breath with this man.
“Sam?”
Whoa, connection was one thing, but when it expanded into telepathy, that was a power that finally caused the scientist in me to wake up. He must have noticed the magic as well because I was sure the gold flecks in the sea of emeralds gleamed brighter.
“Sam!”
“What?” We were not only breathing in sync with each other, we spoke the same word at the exact same moment. Though that wasn’t enough to pull us apart, the replacement of the quiet whispers of twilight by the sound of laughter was. Our foreheads parted as we turned toward the source that had interrupted that one perfect moment of time.
“Are you okay?”
“Huh?”
“Wow, I think they might have nibbled on some special species of mushroom. What do you think?” Josh asked.
“I think it’s rather selfish not to share,” a voice unfamiliar to me said, earning a laugh from most of the group.
But it was the original speaker who repeated, “Sam,” for the third time that had us replying.
“Yes?”
“See! I told you. It’s like she’s split into two halves. One female and one male, yet both know they belong to the whole.”
“Good grief, Josh, are you sure that award you received wasn’t for creative writing rather than critical thinking?” The woman standing next to Josh asked with a roll of her eyes but her giggle afterward spoke of her amusement.
“Would you two give it a break? Something’s obviously not right.”
