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Authors: T. J. Kline

BOOK: Change of Heart
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A measure of satisfaction spread through him as she muttered her request. Little Miss Independent wasn’t nearly as smug now that she needed him for more than his phone. A self-righteous grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he saw a way to break through her icy exterior. He could be charismatic when he wanted to be, and this seemed like as good a time to turn on the charm as any other.

“I think I could do that.” Her shoulders relaxed slightly as she took a step toward him with her hand held out, preparing to introduce herself. “If you say you believe me that I was talking about the car.”

She dropped her hand and gave him an unconvinced scowl. “Really?”

“It’s up to you.” Gage was a gentleman, through and through, and there was no way he was leaving her on the side of the road. He knew that, but she didn’t. He wasn’t about to cave just because she bristled and let out a sigh of frustration as she looked back at the highway, taking in nothing but empty space in either direction. He tucked his fingertips into his pockets and moved away from the car. “I guess I’ll just be heading the way I was going.”

“All right, fine.” She huffed out a breath. “We’ll agree that I’ve got an incredible
car.

Gage shook his head at her stubbornness but wasn’t going to waste energy arguing with her, especially when it looked like they might be waiting for a while. “So, the new therapist, huh?”

She rolled her eyes in his direction, appearing disinterested in conversation while they waited, and walked back toward the driver’s seat, bending into the car again.

“Bet you can’t guess what I’m thinking.”

She stood slowly and turned to look at him, tossing a denim cloth onto the seat and crossing her arms again. “Are you going to tell me that innuendo was about the car, too?”

“What?”

Aw, crap.

He hadn’t even thought about how sexual that might sound to her, especially since she didn’t seem inclined to trust him in the first place. He took a deep breath and took a step closer, realizing he towered over her by at least a foot. And damn, she smelled so good. Like sunshine and woman and fresh rain. But then she turned those derisive golden brown eyes on him, and he could read the disdain in them. Gage didn’t usually have to work this hard to convince a woman that he had honorable intentions in mind.

“Look, lady, let me make one thing clear before you get yourself all worked up again. You’re pretty, but you’re just not my type. I like women who won’t bite my head off every time I open my mouth.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re on the same page then, because I like my men to have brains.” She let her mocking gaze slide over his chest and back up to his face. “Not just brawn.”

Gage arched a brow back at her, daring her to say more, but he refrained from defending himself. They stood, toe to toe, neither willing to take even a slight step backward and admit defeat to the other.

He had a feeling it was going to be a long,
long
month living next to this woman. Sacramento was suddenly looking like a better option.

Chapter Two

L
EAH WAS TRYING
desperately to ignore the man leaning on the back of her car. He’d already loaded her embarrassingly meager belongings into the back of his rented Challenger, while trying to make conversation about their shared interest in muscle cars. She didn’t want to talk to him. She didn’t want to talk to anyone right now.

What she needed to do was figure out how she was going to pay to fix her car, and that would require some careful planning, and quiet. Just because she was a therapist didn’t mean she was on duty all the time, ready to listen to every thought that might run through his head. He just talked so much.

“Look,” she said, finally holding up her hands and standing in front of him. “I’m a
child
psychologist. That means I work with kids.”

“And?”

“And maybe we could just sit here quietly for a few minutes while I try to figure a few things out. Dave should be here soon to tow my car. Until then . . . ”

“Are you suggesting we play the ‘quiet game?’ ” he asked, shaking his head and crossing his arms over a broad chest. “I just thought that since we’re going to be neighbors, we should probably get to know one another. But, hey, no worries. I have a hundred things that I should be doing instead of sitting here trying to make conversation with you. I’ll just head over here and get some of my work done until Dave arrives.”

He walked across the highway toward his car and jerked open the door. “Don’t worry. You haven’t already inconvenienced my plans for today at all,” he added, letting the sarcasm drip from his husky voice.

She watched him as he folded himself into the driver’s seat and pulled out his phone, tapping away at the buttons. Guilt rose up from her stomach, making her feel slightly ill. Or maybe that was the iced espresso on an empty stomach she’d had before spilling it on her phone. Either way, it wasn’t his fault that her life sucked, or that, even when she tried to make it better, it just seemed to go from bad to worse.

She crossed the street and leaned inside his car window. “Look, I’m sorry I’m being such an ingrate. You’ve been more than patient, waiting here with me, and I’ve been rude.”

He simply looked at her expectantly, and she noticed he didn’t contradict her assessment.

“I mean, it’s not your fault I’m having such a bad day,” she continued. “So, again, I’m sorry.”

She waited as the silence between them stretched out awkwardly. She’d learned a long time ago that remaining silent usually brought deep comments to the surface, but this man simply stared at her.

She prompted him. “So . . . ”

He tossed his phone onto the console before turning back toward her and opening the door. Leah took a step back as he exited the car.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she asked.

“Like what?” Gage crossed his arms. She was sure he was trying to intimidate her, but she dealt with far more difficult men than this guy.

“I don’t know. Maybe apologize?”

“For what? Saying you have a nice car? Waiting here with you for the tow truck to arrive?”

“For insinuating your sexual fantasies in regards to my ass?”

Gage shook his head. “I already told you, I was talking about the car. For a therapist, you sure don’t listen very well.”

She heard the roar of an engine climbing the hill and prayed it was the tow truck. As soon as it rounded the curve, she spotted the lights flashing on top of the truck and sent up a prayer of thanks. It would save her the effort of coming up with a scathing retort for this infuriating man.

“Sorry for the delay. I got here as quickly as I could. I’m Dave.” A young man who barely looked twenty hopped down from the driver’s seat of the tow truck. “Wow,” he said, turning toward Leah’s baby. “That car is a beaut!”

“Thanks. It’s the radiator. She’s going to need a new one.”

Dave rubbed at the dark blond whiskers that graced his square jaw and hesitated. “That’s not going to be a cheap fix, and I’m going to have to order the part unless I can find one in Sacramento.”

“That’s what I was worried about.” Leah cringed, wondering if fate would continue to conspire against her.

Dave filled out the paperwork and passed it in her direction. “I’m going to need a credit card to order the part, too.”

Shit.

Her card was already at its limit, and there wasn’t much left in her checking account. The savings had been depleted a long time ago. Leah didn’t want either man to suspect her predicament, so she reached into her purse, trying to stall the driver while she figured out how to convince him to hold off a couple of days. She heard Gage clear his throat.

“Here,” he said as he passed a credit card to the tow truck driver. “Just put it on my card so we can get this show on the road.”

Her gaze met Gage’s, and she instantly understood that he wasn’t doing this because he was in a hurry. He’d seen right through her ploy and knew she didn’t have the money.

No matter how hard she tried, she’d never shake that poor kid stigma. It clung to her, lingering like the stench of cigarette smoke from the bars she’d worked in to put herself through school. Leah narrowed her gaze, wishing she had the luxury to throw his credit card back in his direction. She didn’t want charity in general, and not his specifically, but she didn’t have any other options. Unless she wanted to try to con them both—and that was something she’d stopped doing at sixteen, once she chose the straight and narrow path in order to become the woman Nicole had thought she could.

Saying nothing, she signed her name to the bottom of the tow slip, passing it to Gage, who scratched his signature at the bottom of the receipt while she handed Dave her keys. She would find a way to repay him. She wasn’t going to remain indebted to this cocky, arrogant, self-righteous—

“I’ll take good care of her and will call you in a couple of days when I find the part.” He handed Leah the receipt and a business card. “Feel free to call if you need anything or have questions before then. I’m guessing it’ll be around a grand by the time we add in parts and labor.”

Leah tried to contain her despair. That was almost half of her first paycheck from the ranch. She glanced at Gage, who didn’t even flinch, and then watched as Dave jumped back into his truck, driving away with the baby she’d practically lived in at one time.

What sort of man had that kind of money to toss around willy-nilly?

She felt the old Leah, the con artist who’d survived years in a nightmare childhood, press her face against the cage the new Leah had confined her to and whisper,
“Men like him don’t even notice when money goes missing. There’s plenty more where that came from, and you know exactly how to get it.”

G
AGE WASN

T SURE
what he’d expected from the short ride back to the ranch, but her complete silence surprised him. He ran a hand over the back of his head and down to his neck, massaging the muscles he could feel tensing up already. When his phone rang, the woman in the car glanced at him but turned back to the window almost immediately. He looked at the caller ID and saw George’s name. Sliding a finger over the screen, he sent the call to voice mail.

It wasn’t usually his style to hide, or run away, but it also wasn’t usually his style to screw up so royally.

Gage gripped the steering wheel, twisting his hands against the leather, his knuckles turning white as he tried to control the frustrated rage beginning to build in his gut. It simmered and rolled, like a slow boil, threatening to spill over. He knew he needed to tell someone about it, to release this pent-up frustration, and while his brother was the logical choice, he couldn’t bring himself to confess his failure to the one person who believed in him. Dylan had practically raised him after their father took off during a drunken binge. He’d sacrificed his own happiness and dreams to make sure Gage had his, even to the point of almost losing his life. Gage wasn’t about to repay him by telling him that it had all been for nothing.

He could almost hear his mother’s voice, reassuring him the way she always used to.
It was a mistake. Everyone makes them.

Gage knew it was true, but that didn’t change the fact that
he
didn’t make them. Not to this degree. It was something he prided himself on—his talent, his work ethic, and his near flawless performance. To have that all come crashing down around him destroyed every bit of his self-confidence, rocking the foundation of belief in every area.

If he could destroy something he was good at so easily, what hope was there for the other aspects of his life, the ones where he didn’t excel?

Turning off the main highway and onto the dirt road that lead to Heart Fire Ranch, he heard a sharp intake of breath from the seat beside him and glanced her way. She chewed at the corner of her lip nervously before jamming her thumbnail between her teeth. It struck an empathetic chord somewhere deep within him and he slowed the car.

“You okay?”

Like closing shutters over a window, the nervousness disappeared, replaced by the fierce self-assurance she’d displayed even while stranded on the side of the highway.

“I’m fine.”

Gage didn’t buy it for a second. He knew the ploy because he used it himself on many occasions.

Fake it ’til you make it.

“Because you look a little . . . uptight.”

She glared in his general direction but wouldn’t meet his eye. “You’ve known me all of an hour.”

Gage rolled his eyes back toward the road and clenched his jaw. He’d been nothing but nice to this woman. Hell, he’d just dropped who knew how much to fix her car. The least she could have done was offer a simple “thank you.”

“It’s enough to tell when you’re being bitchy,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?” Her voice rose at least two octaves. “Did you just call me a bitch?”

Gage tried to hold back the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No, I said you were being
bitchy
, there’s a difference.” He slowed the car as he approached the main house. “I’m guessing you need to see Jessie, so if you want to head inside, I’ll take your things over to your house.”

“My house?” She sounded surprised, and Gage pointed in the direction of the modular home.

“Yeah, your house. Jessie said that’s where you’ll be staying and having sessions.” He pointed at a small cabin past the house. “And that’s where I’ll be. I’m assuming the other four cabins are for the campers and counselors Jessie said were coming in.”

Gage parked the car and turned toward the woman in the passenger seat. “You know, you’ve been trying so hard to avoid any and all conversation that I don’t even know your name.”

Her gaze slid over him slowly, taking in every inch of his face, as if she was trying to read his intent. Gage slid one arm to the back of the seat, waiting her out.

“Leah.” She bit her lip again, but seemed to catch herself giving in to the brief moment of weakness and let it go. The tip of her tongue snuck out and wet the soft flesh, and he felt a kick of attraction settle south of his belt, surprising him.

Down boy. You already have enough trouble to take care of.

“Leah McCarran.” She held her hand out to him.

It didn’t suit her. Her name was a soft breath of sound, rolling off the tongue gently, soothing. The woman in front of him was hard. Her entire demeanor was as abrasive as sandpaper, and he couldn’t help wondering what had made her that way.

“Gage Granger.”

He grasped her hand and felt the callouses on her palm. This woman knew what it meant to work hard, physically. But there was a warmth there that he hadn’t seen in her demeanor. Maybe he was reading far too much into a simple handshake.

His hand enveloped hers, his thumb dropping over the pulse at her wrist, and he was surprised to find it racing. Just as he suspected, her confidence was a sham.

“Don’t worry, you’ll fit right in. Jess and Bailey are going to love you.”

Another speaks-her-mind, takes-no-prisoners woman on the ranch. God help them all.

L
EAH HADN

T BEEN
sure what Gage meant, until she met Jessie. The woman was a fireball and Leah immediately liked her. Especially when she slid the contract across the desk to Leah. As she read it over, she realized Jessie was giving her full freedom to develop a program that suited her needs rather than some cookie-cutter service that she couldn’t tailor fit to the teens they would be seeing.

“We’re not exactly like most organizations. I want to keep this place fluid, changing and adapting as we need to. The same training doesn’t work for every horse, and I’m assuming it’s the same with the kids we’ll be working with.”

Leah’s gaze lifted from the terms of the contract long enough to meet Jessie’s deep blue eyes. “I don’t know anything about horses, but you do realize that a lot of these kids aren’t going to
want
to be here. If it ends up being a court-mandated facility, they are going to throw attitude from the moment they arrive.”

Jessie chuckled and the German shepherd at her feet lifted his head, gazing up at her adoringly. She rubbed behind the dog’s ear and he settled again. “Leah, I’m accustomed to plenty of attitude. Most of the horses I work with have come here after leaving abusive situations. They’re fearful, angry, and fifteen hundred pounds of attitude. It takes patience, understanding, and in some situations, discipline, to reach them. I’m not afraid of attitude.”

She was surprised by Jessie’s almost blasé reaction. Most people didn’t want to deal with the trouble at-risk teens offered. Jessie seemed to welcome it. “What sort of precautions are you taking to ensure safety?”

“First, and foremost, we aren’t yet a court-mandated facility, so coming here is still a choice. It’s just one of many options available, so, as of right now, most of the kids don’t see it as a punishment. We’re working closely with several foster parents who continue to bring their kids here, even after they’ve completed the initial camp.”

“So it’s a reward instead of a punishment.”

“Exactly,” Jessie said, folding her hands. “That doesn’t mean we aren’t careful. Nathan, my husband, has several men on staff he trusts to maintain the perimeters of the ranch for the safety of everyone involved. No one comes in or goes out without our knowledge and approval. We also work closely with the local sheriff’s department.”

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