Change of Heart

by T. J. Kline

  Just the thought of him conjured up images in her mind. The man was sculpted perfection. She didn’t think she’d ever seen a better looking man in real life. While he and Dylan looked similar, Gage bore none of Dylan’s physical scars, or the dark brooding she’d seen in Dylan’s eyes. Gage had an aura about him that exuded quiet charisma, a confident charm that simply drew people to him. He was friendly and funny and handsome.

  She rolled her eyes at the way her brain and body kept returning to that fact.

  Who was she kidding? Gage wasn’t just handsome, he was downright sexy. It wasn’t just the way he looked either. It was the way he carried himself. She’d known plenty of men, most of them far too intimately, who believed the way they dressed made them sexy. Gage just seemed to have magnetism oozing from his pores without even trying. And then there was the way he looked at her, despite his reassurances that he only wanted friendship. That wasn’t what his eyes said.

  Leah saw desire there. She’d seen it from men since she was ten, the first time her mother traded her for drugs. Leah had used that desirability many times over the next few years to survive but, for the first time, she found that instead of disgusting her, Gage’s desire intrigued her. He made her want to acknowledge the yearning she felt for him and relish the emotions swirling inside like a confusing tidal wave, threatening to capsize her.

  Gage signaled for the highway exit, and she saw him glance into his mirror, making sure she was still behind him. His consideration never failed to surprise her. Even at the grocery store, he’d been adamant that he purchase enough food for her to fill her cupboards for the next two weeks. She’d been planning on grabbing nothing more than a few cans of instant soup when he stilled her hand and dragged her to the meat department, selecting choice cuts for her and himself. He’d even loaded her trunk for her.

  “Dinner,” she muttered to herself. “It’s the least I can do to thank him. That’s harmless enough.”

  When logic reminded her why she avoided most men, she steeled her resolve, focusing again on how Gage was different than men she’d been exposed to, ticking off the many times he’d helped her over the past few days. As they pulled down the long driveway, Gage stopped in front of her house, leaving his groceries in the car to help her unload hers.

  “Don’t worry about this. I can do it,” she said, jumping out of her car. “Your freezer stuff will thaw.”

  “It’s fine. I need to get the stuff out of my car for the kittens, too.”

  Leah reached for several bags at the same time he did and brushed her hand over his. The sizzle of electric heat traveled up her arm, shocking her and making goose bumps break out over her skin.

  “Sorry,” she said, pulling her hand back and letting him take the bags. “I’ll just get the door.”

  Hurrying to the front door, Leah opened it just as the pair of kittens slid past the entry on their way across the tile floor, chasing one another.

  “I thought the kittens were in the bathroom.” She walked inside and surveyed her house. There was now a trail of toilet paper from the hallway, through the kitchen, to where it ended in a small, shredded pile on the living room floor.

  “What in the world?” Gage stepped into the entry, careful to avoid the kitten who ran at his legs, trying to pounce on his feet. “I locked them in there. I—what the hell? Ow!”

  Gage moved behind her but, apparently he hadn’t noticed the kittens’ rambunctious state. They were now climbing up his jeans, digging their claws through the denim into his knees.

  Leah spun and squatted, plucking Lynx from his right leg as Puma continued to climb.

  “Shit! Son of a—”

  “Wait a second.”

  Gage didn’t listen, hobbling past to drop the grocery bags on the kitchen sink and pulling the ball of fluff from near his hip pocket, lifting him to eye level. “Hey, Monster. You’re probably making my leg bloody, you little pain in the butt.”

  The kitten meowed in answer and immediately began purring. “Here.” Gage pressed the kitten toward Leah. “You hold them, and I’ll get the rest of the things from the car. Then we’ll clean up the mess they made.”

  She scanned the room. Several artificial plants were knocked over, with the decorative moss in tiny pieces spread across the living room floor. Somehow, they’d managed to drag the cord to the television from behind the entertainment center, and the magazines Jessie had left on the side table were strewn in shredded pieces through the living room and kitchen. Making her way down the hall, she found several gifts the pair had left her, and she was grateful it was on tile rather than carpet. She retrieved a new roll of toilet paper from the hall closet and cleaned up behind the kittens, locking them in her room temporarily.

  “Since I don’t know where you want things, why don’t you come put the groceries away, and I’ll finish cleaning up,” Gage called.

  Leah came back down the hall to see him already cleaning up the shredded paper with the broom and dustpan she’d stored beside the refrigerator. He looked up with a grimace. “I guess we should have gotten them a litter box sooner since they decided to make their own.”

  “Yeah, I already found a few presents myself.” She moved to the sink to wash her hands as he dumped the paper into the trash. “Whose bright idea was it to bring in two kittens again?”

  “That would be you, Dr. McCarran,” he said with a laugh, as he moved into the living room and began stuffing moss back around the base of the plants. “You’re just too kindhearted to leave the little devils outside to starve.”

  “Speaking of starving,” Leah began, too embarrassed to turn around to see if he was looking at her. “I thought I’d make an early dinner. Something simple, like spaghetti, if you want to stay.”

  “Why Dr. McCarran, are you asking me out?”

  “No, I—” Leah spun, her mouth falling open in protest, until she saw the wicked grin on Gage’s face. “You’re screwing with me.”

  “Yeah, I am. And you make it pretty easy.” He carried the cat tree to the corner as she made her way down the hall to retrieve the kittens.

  “Is that so?” She returned and plopped them into his hands. “Then you babysit while I cook.”

  THIS WAS WHAT he was reduced to? From running a multimillion dollar company to scooping litter boxes? The odd thing was that he didn’t really mind.

  Gage dropped one litter box in the utility room and carried the second one to the master bathroom as Leah had suggested. Both kittens followed him closely, pouncing on his feet the entire way. It made him feel awkward walking into her bedroom, even though he knew she’d just moved in, but it seemed too intimate considering this was the first time they’d actually gotten along since meeting. The scent of her hung in the air, sweet vanilla that marked the space as hers, and Gage couldn’t help but take a deep breath. Longing kicked him in the groin, making him wish he hadn’t inhaled at all.

  He set the litter box down and Puma tried to leap in. “At least you know what you’re doing with it,” he muttered to the cat, walking back into the bedroom.

  His eyes immediately strayed to the massive bed that engulfed the room. The head and foot board were knotted pine logs with intricately detailed wrought iron woven between. Strong yet delicate, like the woman who slept there.

  “You taking a nap in there?”

  Leah’s voice carried from the kitchen, sounding surprisingly cheerful, and he wondered at the sudden change in her. He didn’t want to jinx it by asking her about it, so he resigned himself to enjoy it while it lasted. That, however, didn’t make him any less curious.

  “Yeah, Puma’s just testing things out.” He wandered back down the hall, pausing at the bedroom that would double as her office once Jessie’s campers started arriving. He walked inside and stopped in front of the degrees she’d hung on the wall.

  “What are you doing?”

  He turned to see her standing in the doorway, a dishtowel in her hands, and shrugged. “Fresno State, huh? Good school.”

 
; She pushed herself from the doorway and moved to straighten the frame, even though it didn’t look crooked to him. “I guess. It was a friend’s alma mater, and she was able to put in a good word for me.”

  “Where’d you do your residency?”

  “UCSF, Fresno. I didn’t really have the means to go anywhere else, and it offered what I needed.” She slung the towel over her shoulder. “I couldn’t afford the cost of living in the bigger cities and was already settled there so I stayed.”

  Gage eyed her. “Practical.” He looked back at the wall, searching for pictures or mementos, something that might give him more insight into who this woman really was beneath the mask she slipped on and off. “No family pictures?”

  He saw her jaw clench briefly before she moved to the bookshelf along the back wall and plucked a small frame from the middle. “I have this one.”

  Gage looked down at a young Leah wearing her cap and gown. “Your mother looks so young.” He handed the picture back to her.

  “Because that’s not my mother. She was a good friend.” She ran a hand over the glass before setting the picture back onto the shelf. “A great one. She’s the reason I’m here today. Come on. Dinner will be finished as soon as the noodles are done.” She turned quickly on her heel, heading into the hall.

  Leah closed the discussion far too soon. She’d barely whet his appetite with that bit of information, just giving him a glimpse of the woman beneath the surface, and Gage wanted to know more. He was just going to have to become more creative with his methods of interrogation.

  “I’LL DO THE dishes,” Gage offered.

  Leah pressed her hand on his shoulder. “Sit. It’s my house and you’re a guest. I’ll do them.”

  She was trying to ignore the way her fingers tingled as they landed on his T-shirt and trying not to notice the firm muscles beneath the cotton. It was like the time she’d been shocked unplugging a toaster in her first apartment. The electricity traveled up her hand painlessly but surprised her. This little jolt was pleasantly unnerving and made her want to sigh, even though she wanted to curse her own stupidity as she carried the plates to the sink and rinsed them.

  Gage was a damn fine specimen of the human male. Good looking, smart, and kind, and she was finding it difficult to remember what she’d learned the hard way over the years about men. How conniving and manipulative they could be, how overbearing and demanding. Gage was, in far too short a time, chipping away at the stereotype she’d constructed to label all men unsafe. He was a contradiction to the image she’d shaped, been forced to create in order to survive, and it was difficult to rationalize with the man seated at her table. It was easier, instead, to attempt a friendship and maintain a relationship within those boundaries. That she could do.

  Now, if only her body would cooperate.

  She could feel his eyes on her, watching her, unnerving her. Leah felt heat travel down her spine and across her shoulders, as if Gage was running a hand over her skin. It coiled, dark and twisted and wanton, low in her belly, heating parts of her she’d never wanted awakened, making her feel dirty again, used again, victimized again. The plate she was holding toppled from her hands and clattered against the bottom of the sink.

  “You okay?” Gage asked, jumping up and coming to stand beside her.

  Leah backed away from him, instinctively raising her hands to ward him off. “Stop.”

  She froze, knowing she was overreacting but unable to convince her mind that she wasn’t being threatened. Instinct overruled her logic, and her body simply responded.

  Gage took a step back. “Leah, you’re fine. You’re in your own house.” He slowly tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, where she could see them. “Look in my eyes. Take a deep breath with me.”

  Leah’s heart was racing, her breath coming in shallow pants, as if she had just run miles. Meeting Gage’s gaze, she could see his quiet composure, even in the face of her panic. She tried to do as he instructed.

  “Good, now another.”

  He inhaled slowly, deeply, but never moved any closer toward her. His voice was soothing, easing the tension building in her chest, suffocating her. He took several breaths with her, and she was relieved when her heart rate slowed and the fear began to subside.

  “Better?”

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Emotion choked her. It had been years since she’d suffered from an anxiety attack, years since she’d felt the trauma of her childhood overtake her.

  “Go, sit down. I’ll finish these.”

  Leah wanted to argue, wanted to remind him it was her house and he couldn’t order her around, but she had no fight left. The panic attack had left her feeling weak and vulnerable. Her best option was to hide, unless she wanted to answer the questions she could see behind the empathy in his eyes.

  Chapter Ten

  GAGE LOADED THE dishwasher mechanically, listening for any sounds in the living room where he really wanted to be. Nothing but silence echoed through the house, and that worried him more than her fear. But as much as he knew she needed her privacy, it had taken every bit of his self-control not to try to reach for Leah when he’d seen the terror in her eyes. She hadn’t even seen him.

  He knew that look. He’d seen it often enough in his brother’s eyes after returning from Afghanistan, when his PTSD had still controlled every facet his life. Leah had been in the middle of a flashback, and he’d done the only thing he could, the same thing that had helped his brother come out of his. He’d tried to talk her out of it, to make her focus on the present. But, Dylan hadn’t ever been afraid of him the way Leah had.

  Even when her focus had returned, even when she remembered where she was and the reality of her current situation, her gaze still held a guarded wariness.

  He wiped at the table one last time before tossing the towel onto the counter. He gripped the counter’s edge, fighting the urge to go into the living room to try to get her to open up to him, to convince her to tell him what had happened in her past. But he knew he couldn’t push her. He’d learned that from Dylan as well. When she was ready, if she was ever ready, she’d tell her story, but until then he had to give her security, a person she could be with who didn’t pressure her. She needed to know that, regardless of her past, she could trust him not to hurt her.

  Dylan walked into the living room to find Leah on the couch with both kittens curled in her lap. Her eyes were closed as her hands moved slowly over Puma, stroking his fluffy body rhythmically, and he took the moment to watch her. She’d pulled her hair free from its usual low ponytail, and it hung in soft, caramel waves down the back of the couch. She inhaled slowly, deeply, trying to relax the tension he could still see etched in her brow.

  As if sensing his presence, she frowned and turned in his direction. She stiffened and retreated further into the corner of the couch. Settling Puma on the arm of the sofa, she pulled her knees to her chest.

  “Don’t look at me like that.”

  Gage could see the embarrassment etched on her brow. With anyone else, he would have moved closer to her, reached out and held her in an effort to let her know he understood, but her body language was warning him to keep his distance.

  “Like what?” He took a step toward the couch and paused, waiting for her reaction.

  “Like I’m some sort of freak who has no business being a therapist for anyone else when I can’t even keep my own shit together.”

  “That’s not even remotely close to what I’m thinking,” he said softly. “Mind if I sit?”

  “Why? I had an anxiety attack because I’m tired. It’s no big deal. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Okay.” Gage wasn’t going to argue with her, but they both knew was a big deal. It was obvious to him that she’d responded to something he’d done, and he was afraid he was going to cause another one. “We won’t talk about it.”

  She didn’t look convinced as he moved around the other end of the couch and sank into one of the leather cushions. It
was the seat farthest from her, but he saw the trepidation flicker in her eyes again and wondered if this might even be too close for her comfort.

  She shook her head and gave him a sad smile. “You don’t have it in you to give up that easily, so what’s your plan?” she asked.

  Gage stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles. “I don’t usually, but I will if you want me to. No plan, Leah. I promise that I won’t bring it up again.”

  Leah cocked her head to one side, her skepticism clear. “Why not?”

  “You don’t want me to, so I won’t.” Gage rubbed his palms against his thighs. Seeing the haunted look in Leah’s eyes, the way she was still trying to hide in the corner of the couch, he prayed he wasn’t making a mistake. “I’m not heartless, Leah.”

  “I didn’t think you were.” She looked down at the kitten bumping her hand with his head, searching for attention. “For the record, it wasn’t you.”

  “No?” Lynx jumped down from the couch cushion beside Leah and began climbing Gage’s leg. “Son of a bitch this hurts. Did you teach them this?”

  Leah responded the way he’d hoped she would, with a slight smile, and she uncurled herself slightly from the corner, dropping her knees to one side.

  “No, but I’m thinking kittens can’t be too different from kids. If you don’t want her to do it, don’t pick her up and reward her actions by petting her.”

  Gage plucked Lynx from his knee and lifted her in front of his face. “You hear that, little girl? Your mom says I’m spoiling you.” He tucked the kitten under his chin, against his chest and she began to purr loudly.

  “You’re a nice man, Gage.”

  His head snapped up. The compliment had come out of the blue. Until today she’d never said anything remotely benevolent, and he wondered what had prompted the sudden change. He knew he couldn’t ask her outright, but he didn’t want to ignore the praise either.