Ocean's Three: Made In Heaven, #2

By Elena Kincaid

Get ready to set sail…

 

Cameron Pompeo has always seen things, felt things, he could not explain, the most significant of which is a young girl named Jocelyn who appears nightly in his dreams. When his cousin Reed Pompeo suddenly shows up in his dream, Cameron realizes that not only does Jocelyn exist, but that she will also be important to them both.

 

After a tragic accident kills her mother, Jocelyn Parker struggles with her guilt. She pushes away the two most important people in her life as a form of self-punishment and tries to convince herself that she made them up, despite the fact that a sense in the very depths of her soul tells her that they're real.

 

A cruise to the Mediterranean finally brings the three of them together. There, they make real memories and promises to each other, but what happens when the cruise is over? Will their love be strong enough to survive the outside forces that threaten to destroy their happiness?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elena Kincaid
• Release date: Mar 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215388570

Book preview

PROLOGUE

They were arguing, same as every other time he had had this dream, only it felt different this time around. For starters, Cameron could not remember going to bed. He could have sworn it was the middle of the day.

But she pulled my hair, Mom, Jocelyn said, pouting from the back seat of her dad’s SUV. What was I supposed to do?

Jocelyn’s mom, Clara, who was sitting in the front passenger seat, turned toward her daughter and gave her a reproachful look before speaking. You should have told the teacher right away instead of punching the girl. Now you have a suspension on your permanent record. How is that going to look on your college applications, young lady?

Oh please, like they’re really gonna care that I beat up the school bitch in junior high school, she snapped, crossing her arms.

That is quite enough! Jocelyn’s dad, Jeff, who had been quiet up to this point, finally spoke up. His tone was cool and calm, but the look Cameron saw him give his daughter in the rearview mirror said it all. She was in deep shit.

Cameron looked over at Jocelyn, for in the dream he always sat in the back passenger-side seat beside her, and saw a lone tear roll down her cheek. She angrily swiped it away. He reached out to comfort her, even knowing that his hand would only meet air. Strange that in all the other dreams he had had of her he could always touch her, but never in this one. How Cameron wished that he could just hold her and tell her that everything would be all right, even though it wouldn’t.

It would never be all right again.

He wanted to scream. He tried so many times to get her dad’s attention. He would yell or lunge forward to grab the steering wheel to swerve out of the way, all to no avail. So this time he just sat there, memorizing Jocelyn’s sweet face and trying to somehow give her comfort, hoping she would feel it.

I’m here, Joss, he whispered. It’ll be okay.

Dad, look out!

This was the part that played out in slow motion for him. The few seconds it took to change this family’s life were shown to him in agonizing detail. He already had the details memorized, though. He knew that the impact came from the passenger side and that Jocelyn’s mom was already dead. The first few times he had had this dream, he had stuck around to hear that her mom was probably killed on impact. The other driver, the bastard who blew through the stop sign as if it were put there for mere decoration, was also pronounced dead. After that, he would violently jerk himself awake. He could not bear the thought of hearing that Jocelyn might also be pronounced dead. Over time, he learned to escape the nightmare right after the crash, while he could still hear Jocelyn’s ragged breaths, reassuring him that she was still alive.

Cameron tuned out the sounds of crunching metal and glass shattering. He tried not to focus on the shards as they flew through the air and cut into flesh. Instead, he wrapped himself around Jocelyn as if he could shield her, and closed his eyes until it was all over.

CHAPTER 1

N o! Cameron yelled, clutching his chest. His heart was beating rapidly, and his breathing became very labored. Not a fucking dream , Cameron thought. He knew this time it was a vision, and for the first time in his life he had just seen it—felt it unfold—in real time.

Mr. Pompeo, are you all right? he vaguely heard Mr. Schneider ask.

Still clutching his chest, Cameron looked around the room and saw the stunned faces of his fellow classmates, including his cousin Reed, and remembered that he was still in his fourth period English class.

He bolted from his seat and ran from the classroom, ignoring whatever Mr. Schneider was calling out to him. It wasn’t as if he could make out all the words anyway. The frantic beating of his own heartbeat thudded loudly in his ears. He ran past the lockers in the hallway and into the boys’ bathroom, and rushed toward the sink to splash cold water on his face.

Why the fuck did I have this vision if I couldn’t change the outcome? He gripped the sides of the sink as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. His face was flushed, bathed in droplets of cold water and sweat. Once the thudding in his ears began to subside and his heart rate slowed, he let out a strangled sob and dropped to his knees. He roughly ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the strands as he cried out again.

Cameron always knew that he was a bit psychic. Not the stereotypical palm reading, look into my crystal ball, I can see into the future sort, but sometimes, when he touched a person’s hand or brushed shoulders with someone in passing, he would get a vision. The visions didn’t happen often, they were always about someone whom he knew or at least recognized, and at best, they had always been inconsequential, hazy, and momentary. Once, when he was walking through the hallway at school with a girl he liked, he leaned in close to whisper in her ear, brushed her hand with his, and had a vision of her falling. Later that day, she had told him how embarrassed she had been in gym class when she slipped and fell flat on her ass while attempting to hit a volleyball unsuccessfully over the net.

Because his visions were so trivial, he pretty much ignored them. What he did rely on heavily was his sense of intuition, like if something in his gut had signaled him to do something or avoid something altogether. For instance, he would get a hunch to reread his History notes the night before a pop quiz, or he would decide to skip a class and find out later that a substitute teacher had bored the students nearly to death.

Cameron’s parents suspected he was more intuitive than most people, but only his cousin Reed knew the full extent and also benefited from his gift of intuition. Cameron never understood or bothered to question why he had this gift in the first place. He never questioned it, that is, until four months ago.

That was the first time he saw Jocelyn.

Four months ago

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Cameron sat up in his bed when he saw a young girl perched at the foot of it. She had long, curly dark hair, a round face, and skin so pale but for her rosy cheeks and so beautifully smooth it could have been made of porcelain. Her big brown eyes twinkled in the moonlight currently bathing his room. She arched a brow as a slow sardonic smile began to form on her full rose-colored lips.

It’s about time you opened your eyes, she said with mirth. This dream would have seriously sucked if all I did was sit here and watch you sleep.

He was dreaming. That explained the strange feel to his bedroom and the fact that a preteen girl was now occupying it in her sweet red flannel doggy pajamas. Still, the dream felt almost real. If it hadn’t been for the fact that his room no longer smelled like Eau de Gym Shorts and no late fall breeze was coming through his open window, he would have sworn it was real.

I mean, leave it to me to have a dream about a cute boy only to have him sleeping the entire time, she rambled on. I’m Jocelyn, by the way. Oh my God! You must think I go around telling boys they are cute all the time. I totally don’t. She paused as if for effect and winked. I only say it if I mean it.

Cameron stared in awe at the spunky little girl as she moved closer to him on the bed, positioning herself cross-legged in front of him. He watched her grab some lint off of his blue plaid comforter and toss it on the floor.

You should clean your room sometime, she said, scrunching up her nose and looking absolutely adorable as she did so. It’s a total mess. Do wild animals stomp through here often?

No, he said, sounding more defensive than he had meant to.

He looked around his room to find it exactly as he had left it before turning in. Clothes were strewn everywhere, books haphazardly placed on the floor, one of his shoes somehow managed to get on top of his computer, and for the life of him, he could not remember if he threw out the rest of his uneaten sandwich. He surreptitiously peered over his bed and there it was, sitting half off the plate by his bed on the floor. Okay, so he was being a lazy fuck. He had intended to clean up his room, but he figured his mom would get tired of asking him and do it herself on laundry day when she tornadoed through his room, leaving cleanliness instead of pandemonium in her wake.

Wow, he speaks. And here I thought I conjured up a mute.

Cameron reached out and tweaked her nose. You’re a sarcastic little thing, aren’t you? So what are you doing in my room, Joss?

Joss, huh? She tested out the nickname twice more and then nodded her approval. No one’s ever called me that before. I like it. And I’m not so little. I’m almost thirteen…well, in about six months I will be, but my mom always tells me that I’m an old soul trapped in a young body.

I can see what she means. His heart melted when she blushed and gave him a full-blown smile at the compliment. He had only just met her, but something in his gut was telling him that she would be important to him. In what capacity, he could not yet fathom. For all he knew, he conjured her up.

And to answer your question, I have no idea what I am doing in your room, she stated matter-of-factly. I went to sleep and here I am.

I see, was all he managed to say, though he didn’t see at all. He was just going with it, hoping it would all somehow make sense.

So, Mr. Loquacious, do you have a name? she asked.

I do indeed have a name, Miss Snark. I’m Cameron, but my friends call me Cam. He reached over and switched on his bedside lamp. You know, Joss, I think you will do very well when you take your SATs in a few years.

At that, she blushed even more and slightly ducked her head as if embarrassed by the newest compliment.

I read a lot, she said. I guess I’m a bit of a nerd.

Nothing wrong with that. Guys find smart girls very attractive. I bet you have the boys lining up at school.

She snorted. Yep, they’re lined up around the block. I had to start handing out tickets to keep track of who I would date next, you know, like they do at the deli counters.

There was that sarcasm again. He reached over and mussed her hair. It seemed his little Jocelyn did not know how to take a compliment or how utterly adorable she was for that matter either. And why he had just thought of her as his, he also could not explain, but he knew that it felt right to think of her that way.

Wow, what color are your eyes? she asked, apparently seeing them clearer in the light. They’re amazing!

They’re hazel. It was Cameron’s turn to blush now. He wasn’t very good at taking compliments either, even though he was often complimented on his ever-changing eye color, particularly when they took on a striking goldish hue. They complemented his golden-brown hair, which often had that I just got out of bed, look. That was probably due to the fact that he often never bothered to style it.

And now that the room had more light, he saw the depths in Jocelyn’s big brown eyes. He could really see what her mom meant about her aged soul, although he would have also called it wise. And then suddenly, he saw a familiar spark in those eyes, a spark he felt shoot through his entire body like lightning. As they both stared at each other, he wondered if she felt it, too.

Did you just feel that? Cameron asked.

Feel what?

It must just be me, he thought. Perhaps she was staring at him simply because she found him attractive.

Jocelyn must have realized she was staring at him when she blushed and cleared her throat. So how old are you, by the way?

I will be sixteen next month.

She blushed again and averted her gaze, suddenly very interested in the objects around his room.

A jock, huh? Her eyes had settled on the baseball bat he had leaning up against the wall.

He was actually more of the scholarly type, even though he liked to play some sports recreationally. His cousin Reed was more the jock type and was a shoo-in for quarterback next year when the current quarterback graduated.

And is that a half-eaten sandwich on the floor? Gross!

After a few more inquiries about the various objects in his room, Jocelyn became her sarcastic and playful self again. Cameron, on