Change of Heart (The True Heart Series Book 3)

by Layce Gardner

  Change of Heart

  by

  Saxon Bennett

  &

  Layce Gardner

  This is a work of fiction; names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by Square Pegs Ink

  Text copyright 2017 © Saxon Bennett & Layce Gardner

  All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without the authors’ written permission.

  Editor: Kate Michael Gibson

  Katemichaelgibson.com

  Cover designed by Lemon Squirrel Graphics

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  Authors’ Note:

  None of the people or places in this novel exist. It is fiction. We just wish Fenton and its inhabitants were real.

  Chapter One

  Susan Everett woke up before the dawn. She blinked in the darkness. Something had caused her to wake up. It took a full minute for her to remember what it was. It was a dream. Not just any dream either. It was the same dream that she had several times a month. She could never remember the exact plot of the dream, but when she woke she was breathing heavily, perspiring, and in a panic.

  Susan rolled over and was relieved to see Tess sleeping soundly next to her.

  Tess was beautiful in a girl-next-door way. In another life, she could’ve been a model for Ivory soap. She had auburn hair, just the right amount of freckles, and the silkiest skin imaginable. She was the opposite of the type of woman Susan usually found attractive. But, ironically, that was what Susan found so attractive about Tess. Tess was different from all other relationships she’d ever had.

  Susan reached under the sheet and caressed Tess’s bare hip. Tess stirred. Susan’s hands wandered over Tess’s smoothness. She closed her eyes and let her hands stroke the supple flesh. Her hand caressed lower and lower until she found the warmth she was seeking. Tess lightly moaned.

  “Susan?” Tess whispered, “what’re…?”

  Susan replied, “I need you.”

  ***

  Later that morning, Susan stood in the long line at The Perk waiting to order her usual morning cup of coffee. The Perk was a perfect blend of casual and minimalistic. Streamlined modern chairs and tables were scattered across the floor, but it overstuffed comfy couches and chairs lined the walls. There was a library of games and books shelved along one wall and the opposite wall was painted with chalkboard paint and graffiti was encouraged. Their menu looked a lot like every other coffeehouse’s. The Perk was more than a place to get your morning joe; it was an early morning meeting place for a lot of the town. It was a hot place between the hours of six a.m. and noon. News was made and news was relayed, all over the piping hot, caffeinated beverage of your choice.

  Susan waited her turn in line, talking to Luke, the local newspaper photographer, when it happened—the worst thing imaginable. She got to the front of the line only to find her ex-fiancée was the new barista.

  Carrie St. Claire was once the love of her life. Until the day Carrie literally left Susan standing at the altar. Not only did Carrie jilt Susan in front of half the town, but she rubbed salt in the wound by running off to Belize with the wedding planner.

  Now Carrie was back in town?

  It was Susan’s nightmare in the flesh.

  Being a doctor, Susan had heard plenty of firsthand stories about tragic accidents. The victims never failed to talk about giant white lights and tunnels and how the highlight reel of their life had replayed before their eyes.

  Susan, being a medical professional with a scientific mind, had always chalked up those memories as a sort of collective suggestion. But now, she was experiencing the same thing. It wasn’t her whole life replaying before her eyes. It was just the wedding. She saw a series of memories: waiting at the church, crying on her best friend Rosa’s shoulder, walking out to the front of the church and announcing the wedding was postponed, but the reception and party were to go on, and finally, going home and locking herself away for three whole days.

  For three whole days she didn’t bathe, didn’t eat, didn’t brush her teeth, did not do a damn thing but cry and fall into an exhausted sleep. By the time Rosa broke down her front door and dragged her out of bed, she looked like the reclusive Howard Hughes.

  A year and a half had passed since that dreadful day. And, in that time, Susan had slowly, painfully, pieced her life back together. She was finally back on track. Her career was flourishing and so was her love life. Tess was like a healing balm on her wounded heart. However, all that flew out the window the moment she came face-to-face with Carrie.

  It felt as if her heart stopped. No, not stopped exactly. Froze. Her heart froze. It felt like a big chunk of ice was lodged inside her rib cage.

  Carrie flashed Susan a brilliant white smile. Obviously, she had no problem with seeing her ex. “Today must be my lucky day,” Carrie said.

  Carrie had long blond hair, a body born to wear a bikini, and stormy gray eyes. She was tanned and her teeth dazzled against her golden skin. She was the opposite of Susan. Susan spent most of her days indoors and had the pale skin to prove it. Her own eyes were the color of a glacier, changing blues depending on her mood. Susan had been born with hair the color of a rain puddle. Now, only her stylist knew her true color.

  Face-to-face for the first time since the day of the wedding (or as Susan referred to it, the non-wedding), Carrie and Susan stood motionless. Carrie looked beautiful and confident, as always, and Susan felt starstruck. The logical part of her brain knew that feeling was absurd. She despised Carrie and was madly in love with Tess, the woman she intended to spend the rest of her life with.

  And now here was Carrie, come to snatch her happiness away from her once again.

  Luke stepped forward and saved her. “Uh, I hate to break up this beautiful reunion, but the natives are getting restless.” He indicated the long line of caffeine-deprived college students and hipsters.

  Susan didn’t respond. She looked down and fumbled with the clasps of her wallet. Luke gently laid his hand on Susan’s and saved her further embarrassment by saying, “Let me get your order today.” He looked at Carrie evenly and said, “Two lattes, triple shots of espresso with half-an- half.”

  The mention of half-and-half woke Susan from her stupor. She didn’t want people to see her not being healthy. She had a doctor-ly image to protect. “No,” she muttered. “Low fat…please.”

  Luke winked at her. “Today, you need to live large.”

  He pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to Carrie. She gave him change and looked over at Susan. “Hey, Suze… I get off at two. We can go to Joy Juice. They have lemon grass. You always liked lemon grass. What d’ya say?”

  Susan opened her mouth, but only a strangled sound came out.

  “You should wait outside,” Luke said to Susan. He gently turned her to the door and gave her a small push. “I’ll get the coffees and bring them out.”

  Susan obeyed.

  “Two o’clock,” Carrie called after her. “I’ll be waiting.”

  Luke leaned across the counter, his nose only a few inches from Carrie’s. Carrie’s eyes widened. He said low and even, “Stay the hell away from her. You broke her heart once. Be satisfied with that.”

  Before she had a chance to respond, Luke’s coffees were ready. He picked t
hem up at the other end of the counter, throwing one last warning glare at Carrie before walking out.

  ***

  Susan leaned up against the building, willing herself to take deep, steady breaths. She pressed two fingers over her jugular vein and looked at her watch, monitoring her heart beat. At forty-six years old, she was fast approaching heart attack zone. She would not give Carrie the satisfaction of her dropping dead right in front of The Perk.

  What the hell was Carrie doing here? Had she and Monica, the wedding planner, broken up?

  Had things gone so badly in Belize that Carrie had come skulking back to her hometown with her tail between her legs? Didn’t she know she wasn’t welcome here anymore? Half the town had been at the wedding and witnessed what she had done. Small towns had long memories.

  The big question was why. Why was she back?

  Luke interrupted her ruminations by handing her a latte. He was a nice-looking kid. Fresh out of college and full of potential. He had a great attitude about the future. The world hadn’t knocked the optimism out of him yet. He had a big beard that he was proud of and a man bun. At first, those two things seemed incongruous, but for some reason they worked on Luke.

  “She’s sure got a lot of nerve showing her face around here,” Luke said. He slurped his coffee. Seeing the stricken look on Susan’s face, he said. “You okay?”

  Susan shrugged. “Thanks for saving me and getting the coffee. I owe you one.”

  Susan’s phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the screen. “Gotta go. I have to do an emergency extraction.”

  Luke scrunched up his face. “Sounds awful.”

  “It is. A little kid stuck a multivitamin up his nose.”

  Luke laughed. “I seem to remember doing that once.”

  “You and every other kid. Vitamins. Beans. Marbles. Anything smaller than an elbow finds its way into the nostrils of every little kid.” She put her phone back in her pocket. “Thanks, again.”

  “You sure you’re all right to go to work? That was a shock of the monumental kind.”

  “Oh, I’m fine,” Susan lied. She had a sneaking suspicion her life would never be fine again.

  Luke accepted her words at face value. “You’re not going to meet her at Joy Juice, are you? I hear they import their lemongrass from a third world country that exploits its workers.”

  Susan laughed. “Tell Amy hello for me.”

  “Will do.”

  Amy Warner was a good friend. She had moved back to her hometown of Fenton after living in New York City most of her adult life. She now worked for the Fenton Sentinel, the local newspaper. The owner and publisher of the newspaper was Luke’s father, Jeb Marshall. Amy wrote a human-interest column, keeping the town up on not only the news, but the local gossip as well.

  Susan turned to go, but suddenly stopped. “How long before the whole town knows Carrie is back?”

  Luke grinned mischievously. “Want me to put it in the paper? I can see the headline now: Runaway Bride Returns to Scene of Crime.”

  Susan closed her eyes. “Oh, god…”

  Luke touched her arm. “Don’t worry. I got your back.”

  “You’re sweet. And I owe you a coffee.”

  “Make it a beer and we’ll call it even.”

  “Deal.” Susan walked down the sidewalk, passing directly in front of The Perk’s big window. She could feel Carrie’s eyes watching her walk by. She made sure to keep her chin high and a smile on her lips. She might have been shaken to the core, but she certainly didn’t want Carrie to know that.

  ***

  Amy put her phone down. Millie, head of the town grapevine, had just called and told her that Susan’s ex-girlfriend was back in town and working at The Perk.

  Studying her face, Jeb said, “Looks like bad news. Who died?” He sat with his cowboy boots on his desk, sipping his morning coffee and rubbing the stubble on his face. He reminded Amy of Robert Redford with his craggy good looks. His wife, Clementine, was in Kansas City organizing a protest march. You could always tell when Clementine was gone because that was when Jeb boycotted shaving.

  “Carrie St. Claire is back in town. Millie wants me to call Susan and warn her,” Amy said.

  “Too late,” Luke said, entering the office. He held up his latte with The Perk label. “I was standing behind Susan in line.”

  “Oh, no,” Amy said.

  “Yeah, it was a pretty bad scene,” Luke said, sitting down at his desk. He put his feet on top of his desk and leaned back in his chair. He looked like a younger, hipper version of his father. Flip-flops instead of boots, long hair instead of short, and a beard instead of two-day scruff.

  “What did she say?” Amy asked. “What happened?”

  Jeb’s boots hit the wood floor with a thump. He leaned forward, elbows on his desk, and stared at his son. “Tell me you helped her out.”

  Luke gloated, “Yeah, I pretty much saved the day. Susan froze up, couldn’t say a word. So I ordered us coffee and gave Carrie a piece of my mind.”

  Jeb raised one bushy eyebrow.

  “After Susan went outside to wait. It would’ve been impolite to call Carrie a whoring bitch in front of her,” Luke said.

  “That all you said?” Jeb asked.

  “I told her to stay away from Susan. Carrie actually had the balls to invite Susan for a lemongrass smoothie. What sort of a person does that?”

  “You talking about Carrie?” a voice asked.

  Amy turned in her chair and saw Parker, the love of her life, standing in the doorway. She was holding two coffees from The Perk.

  “Remind me to put a bell over that door,” Jeb said. “People keep sneaking up on me.”

  Amy smiled at her gorgeous girlfriend. Parker was tall, blond, and handsome. She was wearing her Carhartt work clothes. She was a self-employed handyman. Or, to be completely PC, she was a handywoman. Or was it handyperson? Amy didn’t know. She’d have to look it up.

  Amy still couldn’t believe Parker loved her. It was one of those too-good-to-be-true things. Parker was extraordinary in every respect and Amy, in her own opinion, was nothing but ordinary. Amy was medium height, medium weight, hair that was somewhere between brown and blond and eyes that were a muddy mix of browns. Every time she saw Parker, she felt like thanking her for loving her.

  “One of those coffees for me?” Amy asked.

  Parker walked up to Amy saying, “Coffee for a kiss?”

  “Gladly.”

  Parker bent down, retrieved her kiss then handed over the coffee. Amy took a sip of the coffee and sighed contentedly. “So. Did you see this Carrie person?”

  “All C-cups of her,” Parker said.

  “She’s got big boobs?” Amy asked.

  “I’ll say,” Luke said.

  “Son…” Jeb warned.

  “You can’t help but notice. She was wearing a tight shirt and I’m a guy,” Luke said in his defense.

  “I wouldn’t say any of that in front of your mother. She’s become quite a feminist ever since that genital-grabbing vulgarian got elected,” Jeb said.

  Clementine Marshall was the founder and president of the local chapter of Women’s Equality, or WE as she liked to refer to it.

  “Don’t I know it,” Luke said. “Sam told me yesterday that he’s a feminist. I don’t even know what that means for a guy.” Sam was Luke’s little brother, recently adopted by Jeb and Clementine.

  “It means Sam will learn how to take care of himself instead of growing up and moving into a man cave and expecting a woman to run his own household, cook his meals, and rear his children,” Parker said.

  Luke stiffened. “I know how to take care of myself.” With his new job at the paper, he could now afford his own apartment. He was quite proud of his new-found independence.

  “Do you microwave your dinner or eat out all the time? Are you always looking for clean clothes? Do you run out of bread and milk all the time? Do you own a mop, broom, and vacuum cleaner?” Parker asked.

/>   Luke pooched out his lips, crossed his arms over his chest, and said, “I plead the Fifth.”

  Amy and Jeb laughed.

  “Then you’re definitely not a feminist,” Parker said.

  “So what? My girlfriend does all that stuff for me,” Luke countered.

  “Do not say that around your mother,” Jeb said.

  Amy laughed. The men in Fenton, Missouri were in for some big surprises. They didn’t know it yet, but WE was planning on whipping its male citizenry into shape.

  Amy thought back to when she’d first met Parker. Her friends had warned her that Parker was… different. Parker had a mild case of Asperger’s syndrome. What that meant was that Parker was not good at social interactions. She couldn’t lie, and she liked to do the same things over and over. Repetition calmed her. Parker was a whiz with numbers and statistics and extremely good at building things with her hands. It was the emotional side of life that stumped Parker. She had once described to Amy what her emotions felt like, saying, “You know how people are magnified when you look through a pair of binoculars? But when you turn the binoculars around and look through them backwards, the people look far away? That’s how I view life. It’s like everybody and everything is really far away.”

  The only person that Parker had ever let be close-up was Amy.

  “Believe me, as long as Mom is on this feminist kick, I won’t say a word to her,” Luke said. He sipped his coffee and booted his laptop.

  “What are we going to do about Susan and Carrie?” Amy asked.

  Parker said simply, “There’s nothing to do. Susan lives here. Now Carrie lives here.” She shrugged like she didn’t see the problem with that. “Okay, I have to get to work. Mrs. Branson has commissioned me to build a gazebo for Brookside.”

  Parker did a fair amount of work for Brookside at a reduced price. Brookside was an assisted living facility. Amy’s mother had lived there before she died of Alzheimer’s. Parker had a soft spot for Mrs. Branson because she’d been so kind to Amy during the difficult time of caring for her failing mother.