Familiar laughter from several rows ahead of him caused a ripple of anticipation inside his gut and Matt scanned the rows in front of him.
Six rows ahead of him on the other side of the aisle he saw just the back, side of her profile, but it was enough. His gaze skimmed over the dark hair that spilled over creamy shoulders. A thin purple strap of a tank top peeked out between strands of hair, and the shoulders quaked slightly as she laughed again.
The sound arrowed through Matt like an icy knife to the heart.
He knew her laugh, and he definitely knew her profile. Matt sat forward in his seat trying to get a better look and hoping she would turn around.
She cocked her head to the side as she listened to something her companion said, and a large hand squeezed Matt’s chest. The mannerisms, the movements, the laugh–it was Sarah.
He downed the rest of his drink and nearly laughed when he realized his palms had suddenly become sweaty. Now that he was faced with the prospect of actually finding her, his stomach was tied in knots and he was as insecure as a high school boy going on his first date.
Noting that the flight attendant was several rows behind him and not blocking the aisle, he tucked his empty cup into the seatback pocket, unbuckled his seatbelt and stood.
His back and legs popped and protested as he straightened from his long-cramped position and he stretched before he started forward. As he took his second step forward, Sarah stood, stepped into the aisle and headed toward the lavatories in the front of the plane.
Matt’s breath caught inside his throat. Now that she stood, he was absolutely sure it was Sarah. She wore jeans that lovingly hugged her gentle curves, and her dark hair hung to just between her shoulder blades. Each of her familiar movements brought to life a thousand memories that skittered through his system like tiny shards of glass–both sharp, but pain-dulled at the same time.
Matt quickened his steps and caught up to her just as they both reached the front of the plane. He reached out, his fingers closing around the soft skin of her upper arm. “Sarah?”
She turned and smiled, and Matt’s heart did a somersault. He’d found her!
His gaze roamed her familiar features–her smile, her eyes, her dimple, and even the look of amusement dancing in her hazel eyes as she gazed up at him. He’d finally found her.
The voice–obviously not Sarah’s, slapped at him like a bucket of ice water thrown in his face. He sucked in a breath as he blinked and glanced into the face of a woman who looked nothing like Sarah–and who definitely wasn’t smiling.