A Change of Heart (Perfect Indiana#3)

by Barbara Longley

  “No, thanks.” Cory gestured for her to sit back down. “Stay where you are. I don’t want to disturb your peace.”

  “You’re an adult. I always welcome adult interruptions. What brings you to the big house this morning?”

  Cory lowered herself to the top step and leaned back against the column. “I’m waiting for Ted. He’s taking me to his folks’ place for Sunday dinner.”

  “Oh?” Ceejay’s brow shot up, and her glance sharpened.

  Embarrassment flooded her. “It’s not what you think. We have a bet going, and it’s his turn for show and tell.” Which reminded her—she’d have to do the same soon. She cringed at the thought of bringing him to the shabby trailer park where she’d spent her childhood. At least she’d win their bet and get a free lunch out of the humiliating bargain.

  “My cousin is the sweetest guy you’ll ever meet. He used to pester me to death when we were kids, but if anyone tried to bully or push me around, he was always the first to step up and protect me. He’s more a brother than cousin.”

  “Yeah, but he’s still a guy.” Cripes. She hadn’t meant to blurt that out loud. She turned away. “I mean—”

  “No need to explain. I can’t imagine how difficult things must be for you right now.”

  Cory shrugged. She had no words to describe what it was like. The constant anxiety, nightmares and fear, the disgust—the weight of all that emotional drag gave her no peace. She frowned as an unfamiliar pickup truck bounced along the gravel driveway. Who’s this?

  “Here’s Ted.” Ceejay sighed. “Look, I understand how you feel about men right now.”

  Cory flashed her a doubtful look.

  “But he’s my cousin, and I love him. Don’t be too hard on the guy just because he’s a man. He’d never do anything to hurt you or anybody else.”

  “I know that.” Ceejay’s words stung. “You see me as someone who—”

  “No. I don’t believe you’d intentionally hurt him. I just know Ted.” Ceejay stared into her coffee cup. “Gah! Don’t listen to me. I’m pregnant, overemotional, and driven by my out-of-control hormones.”

  Ted parked the truck and got out. His smile blazed a trail straight for her. Caught in all that warmth, all Cory could do was stare back. Ceejay had warned her not to hurt him. She saw her as a threat. Am I a threat? Her throat tightened, and her eyes stung. Sergeant Dickhead had turned her into someone to be avoided, or suffer the collateral damage only the truly screwed up could inflict.

  Ted stopped in front of the steps. He wore tight jeans and a button-down light-blue shirt that made his eyes look more blue than gray. He looked relaxed, fit and at home in his own skin. Cory’s heart turned over and she forgot how to exhale. Ceejay had it all wrong. Ted wasn’t in any danger. She was. How could she deal with the pull he exerted on her heart, when terror and revulsion pushed right back?

  “Hey, cuz.” He turned to Ceejay. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Good. Really good. I’m past the morning sickness phase and now we’re on to the growing-larger-than-a-barn part.” Ceejay patted her tummy. “How are you?”

  “I’m good.” He turned his high-wattage smile on Cory. “You ready to get tromped in our bet?”

  “I keep telling you not to get your hopes up.” She stood and smoothed her jeans down, trying to cover up the way he made her breathless. “When are you going to take me seriously?”

  “Not today.”

  This was a bad idea. Don’t be too hard on him just because he’s a man. What did that even mean? He had all the power. Her eyes darted to the cab of his truck. Such a small space…too small. Trapped between Ceejay’s warning, Ted’s warm gaze and her own irrational, unreasonable fear, her heart pounded out a hazard warning, and her palms started to sweat. “I…uh…Maybe I should take a rain check on today.”

  Concern clouded Ted’s expression. “What just happened?”

  “Crap. This is my fault.” Ceejay rose. “Forget I said anything, Cory. Please don’t let my pregnancy-induced stupidity ruin your day.”

  Cory sucked in a breath and fought the unwanted sting of tears. Do not cry in front of Ted. Do not. She didn’t need to appear any more messed up than she already did.

  “What did you say to her?” Ted’s voice was tinged with anger.

  Great. Now she had guilt to add to her bag of crazy. No way did she want to come between Ted and his cousin. “She didn’t say anything. It’s just…” She glanced at the truck again and sucked in a breath. “The cab of your truck. It’s…”

  “It’s just me, Cory.” Ted came around to peer into her eyes. “Do you have your pepper spray?”

  She nodded.

  “Let me see it.” He held out his hand.

  She fished around in her purse, pulled out the leather-bound canister of safety and handed it over. He uncovered the nozzle, took her hand, and wrapped her fingers around the cylinder, placing her thumb over the top. She didn’t recoil. Where was the instant revulsion, the disgust? Instead, his protective touch sent a rush of warmth through her—disorienting confusion hot on its trail.

  “God, I’m sorry. I triggered this, and I know better.” Ceejay placed her hand on Cory’s shoulder. “What can I do?”

  “You didn’t trigger this.” Cory shook her head and moved out of reach. “I…I don’t want to keep going on about this. Please…”

  “Right. Got it. Say hi to everyone for me, Ted.” Ceejay headed up the stairs. “Tell your mom we’ll make it to Sunday dinner next month for sure.” She disappeared through the front door.

  “Sit,” Ted ordered. “And it might help if you breathed a little.”

  It might. Then again, it might not. She sat back down and concentrated on drawing breath.

  Ted moved a safe distance away and placed his hands on his hips. “No rain checks. Today is the day. I’ll wait right here until you’re ready. Keep the pepper spray in your hand for the entire trip, and we’ll open the windows in my truck so you don’t feel closed in.”

  Oh, how she wished he didn’t see her for the basket case she truly was. Wouldn’t it be nice to be a normal woman basking in his attention? She might even flirt back if that were the case—but it wasn’t. Sergeant Dickhead had broken her into a thousand dysfunctional pieces, and she had no idea how to put herself back together again. There was no glue for her kind of broken, and Ted deserved so much more, so much better. Any attraction she might feel toward him needed to be squelched right now. “You must think I’m crazy.”

  “Nope. I see you as traumatized. There’s a big difference.” He studied the gravel under his feet. “Noah and Ryan both went through therapy at the VA center. Do you think maybe seeing a therapist might help you?”

  “I’m sure it would.” Shame twisted her into a knot, and heat rose to her face. Unfit to serve. She swallowed hard.

  “Noah and I are all about flexible hours to accommodate therapy, Cory. If you want—”

  “I don’t qualify for veteran’s benefits. Thanks just the same.” Her jaw clenched, and she couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “How do you not qualify?” He moved closer. “This is service related. Didn’t you spend like, what, eight years in the service? I think that’s what Noah said.”

  “Yes. Eight years.” She shot up off the stairs. “Let’s go. I don’t want to make you late for your family’s get-together.” She hurried toward his truck, way too aware he followed close behind. She opened the passenger door and climbed in before he could help her, tracking his every move as he came around to the driver’s side.

  He started the truck down the gravel driveway and turned onto the two-lane highway. “You OK? Because a minute ago you were—”

  “Sure,” she lied and held up the hand with the pepper spray. “I’m all better now.”

  “So…”

  “Let it go.”

  “Nothing that happened is a reflection on you, Cory. Putting your assailant behind bars proved that. Why don’t you qualify for veteran’s benefits?”

  He
r chest ached, and the familiar surge of outrage and hurt exploded in her gut. “Because according to the US Army, I have a personality disorder. I must have a personality disorder. Why else would I fight like hell to put my CO behind bars?” A choked, twisted laugh escaped. “After eight years of exemplary service, my country found me unfit to serve because I pushed to prosecute the man who raped me. I was less than honorably discharged. With a less-than-honorable discharge on my record, I don’t qualify for benefits.” She glared at him. “Satisfied?”

  “Man, you were—”

  “Yep. Screwed—in more ways than one.” A few rebel tears escaped, and she turned her face toward the passing rural landscape. “I gave up my military career to put that rat bastard behind bars, and you know what?”

  “What?”

  “It was worth it. I wasn’t about to let him hurt another woman the way he hurt me.”

  “You did the right thing. You have a lot of courage, and I admire that. I’m glad he’s in prison for what he did, but what are we going to do about getting you some help?”

  “What are we going to do?” She sneaked a swipe at the escaped tears, hoping that her mascara hadn’t smeared too badly. “Who is this we? I’m not your responsibility.”

  He glanced at her, his expression inscrutable. “We as in L&L.”

  “Oh. Right. Like the groceries.” Her heart didn’t just drop. Oh, no. It fell—hard enough to bounce off the carpeted floor of his truck. Not personal. This was another employee issue, a problem to be solved. She should feel relief. She didn’t. “I have a team of law students working to get my army records straightened out. Once that’s taken care of, I’ll get my benefits back. I’m not L&L’s responsibility either.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “I don’t know. A year. Twenty.” She chuffed out an exasperated breath. “This is the US Army we’re talking about. My case will get passed from desk to desk for as long as it takes for the problem to go away on its own.” She sounded bitter, even to her own ears. They’d turned onto a dirt road, and she caught a glimpse of a farmhouse, a red barn and a number of outbuildings ahead. “Is that your parents’ farm?”

  “We could—”

  “Stop, Ted. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I want to concentrate on winning the bet and sharing a meal with your very large extended family without freaking out.”

  “Hey, my family freaks me out all the time, so don’t worry about that.” One side of his mouth quirked up. “And you’re going to lose this bet. Just wait.”

  She studied the surrounding fields of corn, soybeans and alfalfa. Pastoral and serene, she saw no evidence to support his claim. “Huh. I’m thinking I already won.”

  “We’re upwind.”

  “Upwind?”

  “Exactly.” The white two-story farmhouse had a circular driveway in front, and several trucks and SUVs were already parked in a haphazard way. Ted pulled his truck behind an SUV and shut off the engine. “Ready?”

  She nodded and started to get out of the truck. That’s when it hit her—a stench so strong and pungent, her eyes watered. Covering her nose with her hand, she turned to him. “What is that awful smell?”

  “Hogs.” He flashed her a triumphant grin.

  “I had no idea they smelled this bad.”

  He snorted. “What did you think pigs smelled like?”

  “I don’t know.” She laughed. “Like smoked ham or maple-cured bacon?”

  “Not hardly.” He shook his head. “Speaking of ham, we’d better go inside. They’re probably waiting on us to start eating.” He walked toward the house. “I win, right? Imagine my adolescence. There weren’t any girls in my high school interested in going out with a pig farmer’s son. I suffered more than my share of taunts and rejection. Believe me.”

  “I’m not conceding anything.” Cory stopped to survey their surroundings. A tributary to the Ohio River ran along a split-rail fence behind the house, where a profusion of trees, berry bushes and brush added to the lush green backdrop. “This isn’t so bad. It’s pretty here, and peaceful. Looks like a great place to grow up if you ask me.”

  “Yeah? I’m glad you think so.” He opened the front door for her. “Prepare yourself for mayhem.”

  The house smelled wonderful, like Thanksgiving and Christmas all rolled into one. The savory smell of a roasting turkey, some kind of fruit pie and other mouthwatering scents erased the awful stench of the hogs. Off to the side of the entryway, a parlor held a large TV with video game equipment. Kids of varying ages lay sprawled on the floor or slouched on the sectional couch. Some of them played cards or board games while others concentrated on the video game. She counted eight.

  “Some of my nieces and nephews,” Ted whispered in her ear, just as a chorus of greetings arose.

  He guided her through the house, introducing her to his sisters, brothers, uncles, aunts and a few of his cousins. She greeted them all, but none of the names stuck. They finally ended up in the kitchen, where Jenny, her husband and two other women were setting platters and dishes of food on a long counter.

  “There you are,” a woman with salt-and-pepper hair cut in a stylish bob greeted them. She held a platter piled high with sliced turkey and set it on the counter beside a ceramic bowl of mashed potatoes and a matching pitcher filled with gravy.

  “Cory, this is my mom. Mom, this is Cory Marcel.”

  Ted placed his hand at the small of her back, sending a shiver through her—a pleasant sensation, not one of disgust. Disconcerted, she moved forward a step. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Lovejoy. Thank you for including me today. Is there something I can do to help?”

  “We’re happy to have you. For starters you can call me Mary.” The corners of her soft brown eyes creased. “Then you can help gather the throng. We’re ready to eat.”

  As if on cue, Ted’s family drifted into the kitchen, jostled into some semblance of a line and loaded their plates. Gradually, they all found spots at the long dining room table. A couple of card tables had been set at either end for the overflow, and Cory found a spot at one of them. Surrounded by Ted’s family, by the good smells, constant banter and laughter, she couldn’t prevent the surge of envy that overtook her.

  What would it be like to be surrounded by a large loving family like his, with uncles and aunts, cousins, nieces and nephews? For as long as she could remember, it had always been just her, her mom, and their one constant companion: hard times. She’d never been to a family dinner like this. Ever. She faced Ted, who sat beside her, and whispered, “You lose.”

  Ted looked deep into Cory’s doe eyes. His insides melted—right there in the folding chair in his parents’ dining room for everyone to see. Longing slammed into him like a sucker punch to the gut, and all he could manage was to stare stupidly back. Man, he wanted to kiss her—wanted to put his arms around her and hold her close until everything was right in her world. “Why is that?”

  “Look around you, Ted. You grew up with all of this.” She tilted her head toward the crowded table. “I don’t care how the place smells, you have no idea how good you have it.”

  He followed the path of her gaze as she looked around the table. Yeah, he had a large, noisy, nosy family, but it did little to assuage the gaping hole in his center. He yearned for something more, something intimate shared with one woman. His woman.

  Being around Cory sharpened that yearning to an unbearable point. Was it simply having someone beside him that set it off, or was it Cory specific? He hardly knew her. More than likely loneliness triggered his reaction, and he’d feel this way no matter who sat beside him. He’d been alone for too long. That’s all.

  She leaned closer to grab a saltshaker, and he felt her warmth and caught a whiff of her clean, sweet scent. His eyes trailed along the graceful line of her neck to the delicate curve where it met her shoulder. Had he thought her merely pretty? Because right now, with her hair framing her face in feathery wisps, and her expression open and friendly, he realized his mistake
. Corinna Marcel was beautiful. His groin tightened and his pulse raced.

  Nope. She wasn’t an idea. Something about her called to him, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away. She glanced at him sideways, frowning when she caught him staring.

  “Are you my uncle’s girlfriend?” his ten-year-old nephew, Ben, asked from across the table. The room grew quiet as all ears strained to hear Cory’s response.

  “Um…” Her face turned a lovely shade of pink.

  Ben stared at her. “He’s never brought a girl home for Sunday dinner before.”

  Every eye in the room fixed on them. Ted leaned close and whispered, “You lose.”

  She shot him a disgruntled look and turned to Ben. “I just moved to Perfect. I work for your uncle at Langford & Lovejoy, and he’s been kind enough to help me get to know the area.” She met the curious looks around the table. “We just met.”

  Ben’s eyes narrowed with that dog-with-a-bone look Ted had seen a few too many times. His nephew wasn’t going to let it go.

  “Yeah, but he’s never brought a—”

  “Benjy,” Jenny called down the table. “Pass the peas, and put your mouth to better use. Let our guest eat in peace.”

  The tension in the room dissolved, and Ted shot his aunt a grateful look. He settled back, played with his food and watched Cory devour hers. Good. She needed the calories. The rest of the meal and the ensuing cleanup would take way too long as far as he was concerned. He wanted alone time with Cory, and it couldn’t come fast enough.

  After dinner, she pitched in with the rest of his family to help with the cleanup. His eyes kept straying back to her as he folded up the card tables and lowered the extensions on the dining room table. She, Jenny, his mom and his sisters were chatting up a storm as they put leftovers away and loaded the dishwasher. He’d never seen her so relaxed, and relaxed looked good on her. Hearing her laughter and seeing the happy expression lighting her eyes—it did his heart good to see her enjoying herself.