Reviving Trish (Project DEEP Book 2)

  Reviving Trish

  Project DEEP, Book Two

  Becca Jameson

  Copyright © 2018 by Becca Jameson

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-946911-44-5

  Cover Artist: Scott Carpenter

  Editor: Christa Soule

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. And resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Praise for Becca Jameson

  “Time and time again, Ms. Jameson infuses her talent for creating pleasurable and entertaining love stories with wonderful characters, a depth of passion, and the joy at discovering your soul mate that is beautiful and thoroughly sexy.”

  Shannon, The Romance Studio

  “Becca Jameson can write sex, hot, steamy, make-you-cold-shower-twice sex. She also can write emotion.”

  Felicity Nichols, Mad in Wonderland Reviews

  “I always love reading Becca Jameson's bedroom scenes and how she makes her heroes fall so completely in love with the female leads in her stories.”

  Roni, Romance Book Scene

  “Becca has the ability to create the different worlds, draw you into them, and keep you wanting more with her writing ability. The way she writes the different characters, you can’t help but to feel for their emotions. When they are scared and upset, you are as well.”

  Crystal’s Many Reviewers

  Contents

  About the Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Author’s Note

  Also by Becca Jameson

  About the Author

  About the Book

  After ten years, life is giving them a second chance…

  Tushar will do anything to rekindle his marriage.

  Keeping his wife safe is his number one priority.

  Hiding in the Mountains of Montana is their best chance at survival.

  Trish isn’t on the same page.

  She wants more time with the son she hasn’t seen for ten years.

  She wants her life back.

  What if it turns out no place is safe?

  The sparks that brought them together two decades ago are still burning.

  Neither is willing to take the risk.

  But second chances should never be squandered.

  Chapter 1

  Trish Wolbach-Anand hopped down from the rear passenger side of the truck and tugged her sweater around her body as she crossed her arms against the chilly Montana air. She inhaled deeply, lifting her gaze and forcing herself to enjoy this initial view. To the west were the most gorgeous mountains covered with snow caps.

  The air was crisp and clean and fresh. The sun was shining. It hadn’t snowed in a few days, so the ground was covered with gravel and white patches. It crunched beneath her feet as she stepped away from the truck.

  “You okay?” her husband asked as he set a hand gently on her lower back.

  She shot him a glance, reminding herself that none of this was his fault. “Fine.” She hated being curt, but it was difficult to conjure up the energy for more than that one word.

  Tushar might have inhaled in exasperation, but she ignored him and turned to face their hosts.

  Jazmine Simone emerged from the front passenger seat, a gorgeous redhead with deep green eyes. Her husband, Davin, rounded the hood from the driver’s side. He lifted his cowboy hat and resettled it. The couple owned and operated a unique underground organization called SURVIVE. The Simones, along with several other employees, were all former military who now spent their days protecting civilians from any number of threats.

  Davin smiled at her, his blue eyes sparkling as he spoke. “The ranch is large enough that few people even know we have this cabin tucked away on the property. You’ll be safe here. The entire ranch is surrounded by fencing that isn’t easy to breach and will set off an alarm if anyone tries.”

  “Thank you.” It wasn’t her safety that had her in such a state of melancholy. It was the state of her life.

  She had every faith in SURVIVE. Their referrals spoke volumes. They were an impressive group. From the moment Trish had arrived at the main house on the ranch an hour ago, she’d known this place was safe.

  Jazmine hooked an arm with Trish and waved absently toward Davin. “I’ll show Trish around the cabin. She’s freezing out here.”

  Trish was relieved. Jazmine wasn’t kidding. It wasn’t that cold outside, but Trish had only been reanimated from a ten-year cryonic preservation three weeks ago. She was too thin and still weak. Even the mild temperatures felt colder to her.

  While the two of them headed toward the cabin, Trish watched Tushar climb back into the truck with Davin.

  The cabin was small, but inviting. Quaint. A porch swing swayed slightly on the front porch, the creaking welcoming. When Jazmine opened the front door and let Trish pass through first, Trish blew out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Perhaps for weeks.

  She was tired. Exhausted, really. Her life felt like it was in a blender. The last place on earth she wanted to be right now was a ranch in Montana. But this cabin could possibly cure her of her angst if anything could. Time would tell.

  The main room was warm. A fire was roaring in the fireplace. The attached kitchen was updated and modern. The living room sofa and armchair were a burnt orange with throw pillows in various shades of browns and reds and oranges. The floors were hardwood with rugs tossed around to add life to the cabin. There was no television.

  Jazmine pointed at the only door in the room. “That’s the bedroom. Bathroom is in there too. It’s not much, but it’s comfortable.”

  “It’s perfect,” Trish assured her, lowering herself into the armchair near the fire.

  Jazmine looked hesitant as she took a seat on the sofa. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. If you need anyone to talk to or anything at all, please call me. I’m not far away.”

  Trish swallowed back the emotion bubbling up inside. “Thank you,” she managed to whisper. “I really appreciate everything you’re doing for us. Don’t misunderstand my mood. It’s just happening too fast. I’ve only been awake three weeks. I didn’t have enough time to spend with my son. I’m still adjusting.”

  Jazmine nodded. “Were you really preserved cryonically for ten years?” She waved a hand through the air. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

  Trish gave her a wan smile. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. Yes.”

  “How old is your son?”

  “Ryan is thirty. He was twenty when Tushar and I were preserved with the rest of our team. In fact, we owe our reanimation to him and the people he assembled to find a cure for the type of anemia we contracted and then the ability to revive us all.”

  “How many of you are there?”

  “Twenty-two total. I’m the third to be reanimated.” It felt good to talk about it with someone outside the government bunker where she’d spent the last several years of her life before preservation and remained until today.

  Jazmine nodded. “That must be hard, waiting for everyone else. You must be so proud of your son, though.”

  “Yes. And as an added bonus, he fell in love wi
th the first woman from my team to be revived. Emily is a gem. I feel so blessed.” More emotion forced a few tears to trickle from the corners of her eyes, and Trish reached with a finger to wipe them away.

  Jazmine’s face was filled with sympathy and understanding. Her brow was furrowed in concern as she nodded again. “Hopefully, whoever is threatening you will be caught soon so you can continue getting reacquainted with your son.”

  Trish crossed her arms and rubbed her biceps. “Let’s hope.” No matter how beautiful the ranch was or how reasonable the decision to hide someplace, Trish couldn’t shake the frustration and annoyance. Nor could she find a way to avoid blaming Tushar for their predicament.

  It wasn’t his fault they had been whisked away. It also wasn’t his fault someone or a group of people were hunting them. Nevertheless, their relationship had been strained from the moment he informed her they were leaving Colorado. Leaving Ryan and Emily. Leaving the life she knew.

  This was not where she wanted to be.

  The sound of a car motor outside made Trish lift her gaze toward the front window.

  “That’s Davin and Tushar. They probably took a drive around the property.” She stood and headed for the door.

  Trish followed Jazmine out onto the porch and leaned against the railing, glancing from the truck as it parked to the view of the mountains.

  “The view is amazing, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” Even though Trish had never met either Jazmine or Davin until today, she felt a sense of calm from this woman. And she was so grateful for their hospitality. She gripped the railing of the porch tighter to keep her balance as she glanced across the expanse of mountains. She should find the view as incredible as Jazmine was pointing out, but her mind was preoccupied.

  Jazmine turned toward her, leaning a hip against the railing. “Don’t worry. You’ll feel like a million bucks after a few days of breathing the clean, fresh air.” Eagle Rock, Montana, only had clean, fresh air. Year-round. Her smile was genuine.

  Trish returned her gaze to the expanse of land in front of her as Davin, Tushar, and Davin’s dog wandered closer. Davin had hair so dark it was nearly black. He was built and fit, though he had a barely noticeable limp from a war injury.

  Tushar looked exactly as Trish remembered him from before their preservation. She should. For them, no time had passed. He’d been reanimated a few months before her, but not long enough for her to notice a change. Not physically at least. He was forty-five, if she subtracted the years that hadn’t aged them. His dark Indian features drew her attention today just as they had the day she met him. Dark eyes and thick dark hair that complemented his dark skin and contrasted with her pale complexion and blond hair.

  As she watched him move, she felt a longing she would never forget. The way he swayed his hands as he walked. The twinkle in his eyes she could see even from a distance. The lines on his cheeks when he smiled. She was still physically attracted to this man as if no time had passed.

  Emotionally, she felt detached. Something was off. She couldn’t decide if it had been off before they were preserved or not. He was her husband. She’d been married to him for more than half her life. And yet, she wasn’t sure she knew him at all.

  Tushar Anand was a good man, an excellent doctor, a loving father. Like her, he’d been a lieutenant in the army before their preservation.

  He was also a stranger.

  Her legs started to shake.

  Jazmine reached for her arm to steady her. “Here. Sit.” She helped her settle on the porch swing.

  Trish wrapped her sweater around her middle as she shivered. It was winter, but the weather had been unseasonably warm lately. Trish had always been thin, however, and nearly always felt cold. Lately, since she’d been brought back from what amounted to a ten-year hibernation, she was colder than ever. It was irrational, but it felt like the extreme temperatures of her vitrification were still hanging on to her.

  “Abri is going to come over tomorrow and set up a PT schedule. You’ll be back to your normal self in no time.” Jazmine was so upbeat.

  Trish felt guilty for her melancholy. She was always inside her head lately, making it difficult to remember social cues. She rubbed her temple with one hand and forced a smile. “I’m sorry I’m so quiet. I’m still exhausted. I can’t seem to get my energy back.”

  Jazmine’s responded kindly. “Don’t worry about a thing. It’s understandable. You need sleep. Some physical therapy. Good food. You’ll be hiking these mountains in no time.”

  Hiking? Trish hadn’t hiked anywhere since she was a kid. She’d had one single focus from the time she started high school—to become a research doctor. And she’d succeeded. First, she’d gone to West Point and then on to medical school where she studied endocrinology. Continuing to work for the government, she’d been sent to do classified disease research at a secret facility in Colorado known as Project DEEP—Disease & Epidemic Eradication & Prevention.

  She’d met Tushar at West Point. The two had been together ever since. They had dedicated two decades of their life to their jobs when disaster struck.

  The men approached the front porch of the cabin where Tushar and Trish would be staying for the foreseeable future, and Max—Davin’s retired military dog—bounded onto the porch ahead of them. The German Shepard had a noticeable limp that matched his owner’s. Neither Max nor his owner had escaped deployment unscathed. Neither dog nor man was letting their injuries control their lives either.

  Trish threaded her fingers into Max’s fur, petting him as Tushar reached her side and lowered onto the swing next to her. She met her husband’s gaze. “Perimeter check?” she teased, nudging him with her shoulder. Her interactions with him were forced. Fake. She put on a front to keep everyone around from knowing how frustrated she was.

  He met her gaze with what she assumed was an equally forced smile. “Hardly necessary. The Simones have it all under control. They will have someone on watch at all times.”

  She glanced at Davin. “Thank you. For everything.”

  He nodded back. “No problem at all. We’ll let you get settled in. If you need anything, call.” He reached out a hand and threaded his fingers with Jazmine’s.

  Jazmine met Trish’s gaze as she descended the steps with Davin. “Nice meeting you. Don’t hesitate to call.”

  Trish sighed as two of her protectors headed for their truck, Max bounding alongside them in his adorable lopsided way. She watched as the truck pulled down the gravel drive and then out of sight.

  For several minutes she sat in silence next to Tushar as he gave the swing a gentle nudge every once in a while. Finally, he took her hand in his and squeezed. “We’re going to be okay.”

  “Are we?” She wasn’t as confident. Okay seemed like a distant memory. Unattainable. Foreign. She didn’t even know what okay might feel like.

  Chapter 2

  Three short beeps pulled Tushar out of sleep, making him glance around the room. He was disoriented for a minute until he remembered where he was, and then he jerked his gaze to one side to find Trish was no longer next to him in bed.

  As he sat up, she appeared in the doorway. “Sorry. I didn’t realize disarming the alarm would be so loud. I woke you.”

  He pushed to standing, feeling much older than his forty-five years. “It’s okay. What time is it?” He grabbed the gray West Point sweatshirt he’d tossed over a chair the night before and shrugged into it.

  “Nine. We slept late.”

  He stretched his back from side to side and then his neck as he met her gaze. “Am I the only one who feels older than I should?”

  She shook her head. “No. You’re not alone. Besides, I’m older.”

  “A whopping three months.” He tipped his head back and inhaled. “You made coffee.”

  “Yes.”

  He rounded the bed to reach her, pulling her into his embrace. She hated coffee, which meant she’d made it for him. “Thank you,” he said as he kissed the top of her head. Making
him coffee was a good sign. She had been out of reach since she’d been reanimated, emotionally at least.

  No. That wasn’t entirely true. She’d been distant from him for much longer than their preservation. He couldn’t remember when they’d grown apart, but it hadn’t been intentional. At least not on his part. It had just happened.

  Now, he wanted to fix it. Whatever was broken needed to be mended. She was his wife. His everything. They had essentially died weeks apart from each other. And now they had a second chance at life.

  He wasn’t unaware of the tension between them. It was palpable. But he at least attempted to draw her close and start the process of getting to know her again.

  Tugging her along by the hand, he made his way to the kitchen. He had no idea when he’d last held her hand. It had been a long time. Not just the ten years they’d been preserved, but before that.

  When they arrived at the counter, he released her to grab a mug. “It’s funny. Some things seem front and center in my mind, and other things seem like distant memories. I can picture the notes of my research as if I took them last week. On the other hand, every time I smell coffee it seems like I haven’t had a cup for a decade.”

  He moaned around the first sip as he turned around to lean against the edge of the counter.

  Trish slid onto a kitchen chair, looking unstable. It wasn’t a surprise. She had only come out of her coma three weeks ago. He’d been reanimated two months before her. He considered his body to be operating at nearly 100 percent, but he remembered how he’d felt at three weeks. Disoriented. Still unsteady. Confused.