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Authors: Jude Deveraux

BOOK: Change of Heart
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Inside, they took a seat at a booth and ordered their drinks. Rock ’n’ roll was playing on the jukebox.

“So Jeff, what do you do besides beat up nerdy guys who tell the truth?” Chelsea asked over the noise of the music and the people who were beginning to fill the tavern.

He didn’t answer her question. “I didn’t like hearing what he said.”

“But that’s Eli. The way he said that was the exact tone of him. It was like he was a tape recorder and playing back what had run through his head a million times.”

He sat there for a moment, thinking about what she’d said. “Unfortunately, I think you’re right. You want to dance?”

“I’d love to!” She got up and he put his arms around her. Their bodies fit together well, and his movements were well timed to the music—and seductive. “So why hasn’t some woman snatched you up?” she asked.

“Women can’t tolerate my life. I’m gone most of the time. They want a depth of togetherness that I can’t manage.” He didn’t add that
togetherness
meant emotional as well as physical. “What about you? Weren’t you engaged once? What happened?”

Their hips were close together and moving to the music. Chelsea had her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed. He was so good with the rhythm that she wondered what he was like in bed. Maybe if she stayed around, she’d find out.

He pulled back, looking at her to answer his question.

“Boredom,” she said as he whirled her about the floor. “He worked for my dad and I liked the family approval, but he was so much a creature of routine that I wanted to murder him. He came home at the same time, ate the same things. Six months after I met him, I knew what he was going to say before he did.”

“Some women like that.” He spun her to arm’s length, then pulled her back to him.

“Where did you learn to dance?”

“From the relatives I gained by Mom’s marriage. So why didn’t you find something to occupy yourself?”

Chelsea shook her head. “You’re supposed to tell me he should have done exciting things to keep someone as fabulous as me around. Then you should hint that if you and I were together, you’d make every second an adventure.”

“If you were so bored with yourself that you were studying him, you weren’t exactly fabulous, were you?”

For a moment Chelsea was stunned, but then she laughed so loud several people turned to look at her. Still smiling, she put her head back on his shoulder, her lips against his neck. “Don’t you know that beautiful women don’t have to
do
anything? To be seen is enough.”

“Is that why you starve yourself? So nothing else is asked of you?”

“Of course. Only Eli ever expected me to be something more than a pretty girl.”

When the music stopped, he led her back to the booth, where they ordered some more drinks. Chelsea’d had a few shots of tequila, but Eli had only nursed a single beer. He knew he’d be the one driving home.

He was quite consciously trying to get her drunk. Maybe if she had alcohol in her system he could get her to tell him what was so deeply wrong in her life.

When he’d first seen her today, all he’d been able to think about was how she’d left him. He’d vividly remembered his pain over the years, his deep loneliness, the sense that his life wasn’t complete.

It was his stepfather Frank who’d understood the most. Since Eli’s mother had been nearly overwhelmed with babies, a new husband, and a home, Eli had worked hard to keep her from seeing the turmoil that was going on inside him.

But Frank had seen it—and he’d told Eli about his own childhood and how in an attempt to do his duty, he’d given up the solitude that he needed. Frank didn’t let that happen to Eli. Over the years, the two of them had often gone to Frank’s cabin in the mountains and spent days there. When his mother asked him what they did, Eli said, “We spend the time in silence.”

At that moment two toddlers were loudly crying because the three-foot-tall tower they’d built had collapsed. His mother had laughed in understanding.

It was only after Chelsea moved away that Eli realized how very important she had been to his life. The ache he felt at not having a person to share everything with had been like a wound—and he’d almost not recovered.

Frank had offered to find her. “No!” Eli had said. “If she wants me, she knows where I am.”

After Chelsea left, Frank had moved them from that area. Eli had decided that he wasn’t yet ready to leave home to go to college, so Frank sent him to an exclusive private school where he wasn’t labeled “the brain” or “the nerd.” After the Taggert family got him into a gym, he began to attain that elusive thing called popularity.

But Eli never found anyone who came close to filling the gap that Chelsea had left in him.

Of course he kept up with her, reading about her on the internet. And Frank made sure Eli had access to any information he needed.

In college there’d been a few girls, but not many. And as his studies neared completion, he didn’t know what he was going to do with his life. Companies offered him money, cars, houses, vacations in exotic locales. He wasn’t tempted. But when the government offered what he and Chelsea used to have, the chance to help people, he said yes. Frank was so proud of him there were tears in his eyes.

Through everything, Eli never came close to telling anyone about Chelsea. But then Jeff, with his sarcasm and excellent brain, came into Eli’s life. Other than Chelsea, he’d never had a best friend. Jeff wasn’t as adventurous as Chelsea, wasn’t willing to take on the world as she was, but at least he didn’t run away as so many people who’d worked for Eli did. Morons! he thought. Cowards to the core.

Jeff had nagged until Eli told him of Chelsea. He told of what they did as children and how they’d succeeded so spectacularly in getting Eli’s mother with a really good man.

But unfortunately, Eli had also told Jeff about how Chelsea had left him and how it had hurt something deep inside him. It was as though some fundamental part of him had been broken, and it had never come close to being repaired.

Eli had been glad that Jeff hadn’t spouted the currently popular phrase
move on with your life
.

Instead, Jeff had said, “I wonder why she did that?” After that, Jeff’s innate ability to turn anything to sarcasm had taken over—and that had been good for Eli. He had enough self-pity for both of them.

It wasn’t until Jeff said those horrible words to Chelsea that Eli had seen the truth. Yes, he’d blamed her for so much bad in his life. When some girl left him—usually in a rage—Eli had thought of Chelsea and how this wouldn’t be happening if it weren’t
for her.

But hearing that from Jeff made Eli see himself in a way he didn’t want to. The truth was that Eli had never really
liked
any of the young women he’d dated. They were too dull-brained, too uninteresting, too easy to obtain. Something.

In other words, they weren’t Chelsea.

In those moments when he heard himself through Jeff, Eli changed. First there’d been a burst of anger at himself—and he’d taken it out on Jeff. Eli had wanted to hit himself, but it was Jeff on the floor with what was the beginning of a black eye.

For a while Eli had been too horrified at his own actions to be able to think clearly, but as he began to calm down, he looked at Chelsea. But he wasn’t looking at her with the eyes of a wounded boy, but as a man. His mind wasn’t full of what-you-did-to-me, but of concern.

He looked at her as does that very underrated creature, a true, deep, and loyal
friend.

What he saw was a woman whose eyes darted around nervously. She seemed to be searching for something, but wasn’t seeing it.

She was too thin and her words about her beauty being her only asset haunted him. There were delicate, faint lines at her eyes, and he wondered how her polo-playing, race-car-driving boyfriends were reacting to those lines. He seemed to remember photos of those men with girls in their early twenties. At thirty-two, Chelsea just might be considered too old for them.

When they went back to the booth, he watched her throw back another straight shot of tequila in a way that showed she’d done it many times before.

His life had been missing
her
. But what was missing in Chelsea’s life?

She put her empty shot glass down and looked at the dancers on the floor. Her eyes stopped at a man who was moving about with a pretty blonde clinging to him. He was holding her, but he was looking at Chelsea.

“Am I going to have to fight him too?” Eli said.

Chelsea turned back to him. “Not on my part. I never like men who are too easy to get, and he’s a one.”

At Chelsea’s glance, the man moved him and his date closer to their booth.

Eli stood up, putting himself between the man and the table. Eli was taller, younger, and had more muscle than the man. With a derisive little guffaw, he moved away.

Eli sat down beside Chelsea on her side of the booth and reached across for his beer. “What’s this ‘one’ mean?”

“It’s a girl thing. Would you really have hit him for me?”

“Would you like it if I had?”

Chelsea groaned. “You sound like my therapist. But to answer your question, a one is from the Challenge Test. A girlfriend and I made it up. We judge men as one to three.”

“On their looks?”

“Heavens, no! That’s old-school. It’s how hard they are to get. How much you have to work to get a man to notice you—without letting him know you’re interested, that is.”

“And that guy is a one?”

“More like a point one.” As she picked up Eli’s beer bottle and drank from it, she smiled at the guy who was dancing.

“So you’re just playing with him now?”

“Yes. And I can see that you don’t approve.”

“Seems like a waste. But the concept is interesting.” Eli took his beer back and drank deeply of it. “Any threes in this room?”

She didn’t take her eyes off his. “The man at the bar.”

Eli was a bit shocked but also impressed that she’d been observing the people so closely. Turning, he saw that every stool at the bar was full.

“The one on the far left,” she said. “The big guy with the smoldering good looks. He’s a three. Top-of-the-line. He’s well built, has a good face, no wedding ring, and he’s minding his own business. Since we’ve been here, two pretty women have tried with him but he’s not interested.”

That she’d seen all that further impressed Eli. How had he forgotten how she had talents that he didn’t? “Maybe it’s women in general he doesn’t like.”

“No, he’s checked out every woman who’s come through the door.” She turned to Eli. “I bet twenty bucks that I can get him to notice me.”

“Of course you can. You’re the prettiest girl here. Unbutton your blouse and—”

“No. Not that way. That’s for college girls. I will get his attention by ignoring him.”

Eli didn’t like what she was saying but at the same time, he was intrigued. It had been years since any problem he’d encountered didn’t involve numbers and a computer—or a firearm. He took out his wallet and put a twenty on the table. “You’re on.”

Chelsea waited for Eli to get out of the booth, then she got up, picked up the empty shot glasses, and took them to the bar. She stood close beside the man, who was sitting alone, quietly drinking his beer.

“Two more of these,” she said to the bartender, then leaned forward and waited. She kept her head turned away from the man. Never once did she so much as glance at the man on the stool.

Eli watched as the man slowly looked her up and down. He reminded Eli of someone. He caught the attention of the waitress and asked who he was.

“Lanny Frazier, the sheriff’s brother.”

When Chelsea’s drinks came, two full shots and two beer bottles with clean glasses over them, she picked them up, but nearly dropped one bottle. The man caught it.

“Thanks,” Chelsea said in a brusque way, but she still didn’t look at him. She went back to the table. “Is he looking?” she asked Eli.

“Actually, he is.”

She sat down, took the twenty off the table, and slipped it into her cleavage.

“Interesting talent,” Eli said, “but perhaps of dubious merit.” He paused. “In reference to your Challenge Test, may I ask what I am?”

Chelsea downed another shot. She was indeed getting drunk. “You are a one. Beyond easy. You look at me like it’s one hundred and ten in the shade and I’m an ice cream sundae.”

Before she finished the words, she glanced back at the man at the bar. He had turned away, but that didn’t keep her from admiring the way his muscles moved under his shirt.

Eli pretended that her words meant nothing to him, and he changed the subject. “What happened to your interest in photography?” he asked. “You once said you were going to become a great news photographer.”

“I think ambition for a career left me when Eli did.”

“I was told that you left him.”

Chelsea waved her hand. “Whatever. He certainly didn’t come after me riding on a black stallion, did he? You want to dance?”

“Sure,” he said.

8

 

E
li pulled into the driveway, turned off the engine, and looked at Chelsea in the passenger seat. She was half-asleep, half-awake, and humming a little tune. He got out and went around to pull her from the car. When she had trouble standing, he put her over his shoulder and carried her inside. He would have put her on his bed but there were too many things in the room that belonged to him and he didn’t want her to see them—not if he meant to keep up his charade of who he was.

He carried her up the stairs to the guest room and put her on the bed. He slipped off her shoes but didn’t touch her other garments. “Well, ice cream sundae,” he said as he looked down at her, “looks like you’re about to melt.”

He stood there for a moment. She looked good in the barely lit room, but that’s not what interested him. Tonight he’d seen that the Chelsea he used to know—and love—was still in there. She still liked a challenge, still liked to prove herself. It was just that somewhere along the way, she’d lost her direction.

Eli turned out the light and went downstairs. He was known for his ability to set goals and make step-by-step plans to reach them. Rarely did they fail. Right now a new plan was forming in his head and this one was
not
going to fail.

 

Earlier, as Jeff lay on the floor of the house, the side of his face aching, he’d cursed the entire Taggert family. What normal person needed boxing lessons? Who needed to pick up pieces of iron and put them down again? It wasn’t natural!

He got up with the help of a chair back. Now what happened? Was he supposed to keep up the lie of being Eli? Fat lot of good that did him. He’d only said what Eli had. Quoted him verbatim. And now his whole head was hurting because of it.

His intention had been to make Eli fake getting angry, then leave with the girl he was trying to impress. He’d never thought that Eli would actually get angry. And certainly hadn’t considered that he might
hit
him.

Jeff flexed his jaw. It didn’t seem to be broken, but it hurt!

He went to the bathroom in Eli’s bedroom and looked in the medicine cabinet for some painkillers, but saw nothing. He’d negotiated for the house to be furnished, but he hadn’t thought of things like over-the-counter medicines.

When the cabinet shut, he saw his face in the mirror. It was swelling and his eye was turning dark.

He went back into the bedroom but didn’t know what to do next. Since he was supposed to be Eli—at least to Chelsea, anyway—did he take over the house? Or should he pack and leave?

All he knew for sure was that his head was hurting too much to think clearly. He got his car keys from the bowl by the front door and left.

He drove into town, parked, got out, and looked around for a drugstore.

“Hey, Jeff,” came a voice behind him.

It was Melissa and he did
not
want her to see his face. Putting his hand over his eye, he turned halfway toward her. “Hi.”

But she did see. Instantly, her pretty face went from smiling to being the deputy sheriff. “Who hit you?”

“I ran into a—”

“Who hit you?”

“Eli,” he said and Melissa took her phone out of her pocket. “Wait! Please. Let me explain.”

“Assault is not an explainable action.”

“It is if I set it up so Eli could impress a girl.”

“I’m listening,” Melissa said.

“Could we go somewhere and get something for pain?”

“Sure,” she said. “Then we’re going to sit down and you’re going to tell me every word of this story. If I don’t like it, I’m going to arrest Eli.”

“Then I guess I better add Master Storyteller to my many other talents.”

She didn’t smile. “Looks like you should.”

Hours later—after Melissa’d had the local doctor check Jeff’s jaw and X-ray it—they were having dinner in a very nice restaurant and Jeff was just finishing telling his life story. They’d stopped talking about Eli and his problems thirty minutes after they got together. Melissa said, “Eli’s an idiot.”

Jeff agreed. “He’s got a dozen gorgeous females after him, but he wants some girl who drinks champagne for breakfast. Why does he think that’s going to work?”

“I’m living proof that opposites don’t mesh,” Melissa said as she flaked off a piece of trout.

“You?” Jeff said. “I would think you could have any man you wanted.”

“Thanks, but men like me until I cancel the third date in a row. When something happens, Colin expects me to be there. I can’t tell him, ‘Sorry about the three-car pileup, but I have a hot date.’ ”

“Same with me,” Jeff said. “Eli calls me at three a.m. and asks me questions. He works in thirty-hour marathons and thinks I’m a wimp when I fall asleep. When we were writing on
Trafalgar Knights
, I thought—”


You
wrote that game?” Melissa’s eyes were wide.

“With Eli,” Jeff said modestly. “It sold well.”

“Are you kidding? I have three nephews and I bought each of them that game. The hugs I got were worth the price.”

“Game two,
Trafalgar Warriors
, is about to come out. I can get you some early copies.”

“Would you? I’d be such a hero to my nephews that maybe my sister would get off my back about my lack of a life.” She looked down at her food. “So where are you staying tonight?”

“At Eli’s house, I guess. Unless he’s told her the truth. Any motels around here?”

“There are, but there’s also an empty apartment above the sheriff’s office. It’s not great. In fact, it’s so gloomy that Colin calls it the Devil’s Den. But it has a bed and a kitchen and . . .” She shrugged.

“And it’s near you,” Jeff said, smiling. “I mean, in case something bad happens, it’s nice to be near law enforcement.”

“Yeah,” Melissa said. “I’m a great shot.”

“Good to know,” Jeff said. “I’m not. Except with a game, then I can vanquish any demon you can throw at me. But in real life I’ve never even held a gun.”

“A person should know about firearms. Maybe you’d like some lessons.”

“I would like that very much,” he said. “Did your nephews have any trouble with level six and the underwater battle?”

“Is that the one with the giant squid?”

“Yeah, and the treasure,” he said.

“They did. Maybe Sunday you could go with me to my sister’s house for dinner and show them a few tricks.”

Jeff took out his phone and began to tap out a text.

“Something urgent?”

“I’m telling our editor that I need six copies of the new game sent by express so they get here by Sunday. That okay with you?”

“More than okay.”

They smiled at each other.

 

When Jeff’s phone rang and woke him up, he didn’t have to look at the clock or the ID. Of course it was Eli.

“Are you okay?”

“Nothing’s broken,” Jeff said.

“Did you have X-rays to make sure? I hit you too hard. I’m sorry. I’ve never hit anyone before. Where are you now? You didn’t need surgery, did you? You—”

“I’m fine!” Jeff said loudly. “Yes to X-rays, no to surgery, and no hospital. I’m in an apartment above the sheriff’s office and—”

“I don’t blame you for pressing charges.”

“I didn’t,” Jeff said. “I’m dating the sheriff’s deputy. She’s pretty and smart and . . . Oh, well. So how did it go with Chelsea?”

“I didn’t do as well as you did,” Eli said. “She thinks I’m too easy, that I represent no challenge to her.”

“I could have told you that. In fact, I
did
tell you that.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not the problem. She’s not happy.”

“And you are?”

Eli hesitated. “I need you to do something for me. I want you to buy some camera equipment and camping gear. I’m going to take Chelsea camping and try to renew her interest in photography.”

“That sounds really exciting. Camping.” His voice was sarcastic. “She likes sleeping outdoors?”

“No. She hates it. Always has.”

“Then why—?”

“I have my reasons,” Eli said, but didn’t explain further.

“I have just one question,” Jeff said. “Are you still in love with her?”

“Absolutely,” Eli said. “It’s never changed and I didn’t think it would.” He hung up.

 

Jeff had trouble going back to sleep and he woke early. One thing he realized during his wakefulness was that it was in his own best interest to make this work between Eli and Chelsea. If it didn’t, Eli’s broken heart would affect a lot of people. Hell! It could affect the entire country. Maybe the world.

Jeff waited until seven to call Melissa. “Not too early, is it?”

“I’ve been working out since six,” she said.

“That explains why you look so good in your uniform.”

“Yeah? So what’s on your mind?”

He told her about Eli’s planned camping trip and the photography sessions.

“She hates camping, but that’s where he’s taking her? That boss of yours is romance personified. Want to meet for breakfast and talk about this?”

“Anything in town open at this hour?”

“My kitchen is.”

Jeff drew in his breath. “My favorite restaurant. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

 

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